I played for the first time of many gigs at the Gravity Bar on the Strand in Galveston in 2007. I noticed right away that the attractive dark-headed bartender had a following gathered at the bar that would remain, all night. Her TIP JAR sang a happy song, but when the “Last Call” rang out, the men started grumbling and asking for just one more.
The one, younger guy in blue jeans and a Led Zeppelin T-Shirt, gave up and left when the bartender’s boyfriend showed up to take her home. When I got to my car at 2:30, I felt more like a journalist than a songwriter as I chronicled the evening.
