The Elks (that's where we're going)

Here we are. We've arrived at our destination finally. Boy, it sure is cold out. This the The Elks Club, more specifically known as the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks. We'll park right here by Mr. McCallister. With any luck, the beef dinner will still be available. We havent' been here in years, and the suspense of waiting to get back here nearly killed me several times over.

I suppose these cream bricks have stood here for some 50 years, some say 60. Either way, the building sits on a teetering foundation of bleeding human glory and the hope for a more moral tomorrow. Ironically, we doubt that will be its demise. It's only a matter of time before the Eagles, VFW, Free Masons, American Legion, Knights of Columbus, and Sons of Norway organize themselves as allies/enemies and begin their relentless artillery assault.

The neon sign flickers and hums a welcome to me, maybe for the last time. The basement, and I can smell it now, personifies the struggle of generations past. Equally, it personifies my desire to sit by Clint Hargrove and sip an Old Milwaukee while I explain the significance to my careless and emotionless children. Good night.