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Saturday, January 7, 2012

The Wonder Boy and his Dear Dad watch Clint Dempsey score against Chelsea and enjoy a warm beverage at a cheeky coffee shop in the Tower Grove section of St. Louis

We drove to St. Louis Christmas week to meet Isaac's sister Sarah, who came up from Nashville with her boyfriend Matt with their lovable canines, Charlie and Frankie (both Richmond, Mo. alums). While we were there we had refillable soft drinks at Amsterdam Tavern in the Tower Grove section. It's a soccer bar and we got to watch my beloved Fulham tie Chelsea 1-1 on a goal by American Clint Dempsey. While we were there, I imposed on Isaac to have his picture taken with my Sporting KC stocking cap. Oddly enough, the cap was embroidered north of Rayville.
When we left the bar, we spotted this cat spotting us. It ended in a spot-down.
But not before Isaac reciprocated with a photo of the man with the tweedy pub hat. Very football-like, indeed, ain't it mate?
Working in rural America and living in a rather conservative suburb, I sometimes forget there are other points of view. We saw this photo of President Obama with the flag, and you know what, it felt good to see that someone still likes him.
We walked at least a mile from the soccer bar to this coffee shop while the "women folks" continued their shopping-mall adventure. I had a delicious frothy cappuccino (and later a cup of vegetarian vegetable soup), while Isaac went with the hot chocolate and fried potatoes. At least we could tell his mother he had a vegetable. The bumper stickers and decals behind the counter were hilarious, also expressing a more liberal urban slant than I typically encounter in the country. I suppose my favorite sentiment was "Don't pray in my school and I won't think in your church". Snap! Political preferences aside, we can all relate this one: "My country invaded Iraq and all I got was this expensive gas." Fortunately, neither Isaac nor I got gas from our little Boys Bonding outing.
Let's just say Isaac indulged my proclivity for snapping photos everywhere, in public or not. Hey, I'm a photographer, right? I think I'm invisible. He knows I'm not, at least not yet.

You gotta hand it to the lad, he's a funny one. He'd have to be, though, wouldn't he?

I snapped a photo of this bar because of the name, Stella Blues. I own a Stella guitar, a parlor-size guitar that's often used to play the blues. I assume, but don't know, it's why the bar was named as it was. I can only imagine how crooked that sign post must look when people stagger out at 2 a.m. Sleep tight, muchachos and muchachas, and don't let the bed boogs bite.

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