Shake Summer Vacation

Cowboy kicks on Route 66

"Yeah. I don't like that word coming from anybody else," he says. "But when it came out of her mouth, it was poetry."

Evelyn, who was called to the big roundup in the sky last year, was one of the establishment's best and most colorful customers. Silva points to a photo of her and Patty celebrating a Saint Patrick's Day at the saloon. Gesturing directly overhead to the various hats that hang from the rafters, Silva finds Evelyn's green stovepipe. "It used to be mine," says Patty, "but I thought I'd go first, so I gave it to her." She and Silva stare up at the hat.

"You know, Evelyn once went on a pilgrimage with her mother to Rome," recalls Silva, looking, perhaps, to inject a lighter mood. "They got to the Vatican at exactly the time the pope stands at his window. Everybody except Evelyn started heading toward the Vatican, so her mother asks, “Don't you want to see the pope?' and Evelyn says, “Ah, fuck the pope, I'm going to get a drink.'" Silva and Patty both smile. Some country songs are just waiting to be written.

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