Chester's, who's counting?

[Connie Clark]

Most of my years as a student, I walked everywhere I
went.  24th and Rio Grande was on the way, sorta,
between our vortex (the Chuck Wagon) and the ghetto. 
Even though Looings poem was about Willie and the 36
flavors (ummm, cantelope and curry), I remember the
actual number being greater than 36, but less than 40.
 Say 37 flavors, or one up on B-R.

During that time, I would frequently find my friend
and notorious speed freak, Tommy McCampbell, crashed
on the sofa, chair, or wherever he was when his 3-day
(or was it 5-day) speed trip would abruptly cease. 
Once I found him passed out on the floor with a
soldering gun in hand next to the broken stereo
speakers, frozen in his ambitious gesture.  

After about 18 hours sleep Tommy came back to life. To
compensate me for having raided my fridge, he took me
to Chester's to share a Matterhorn.  It was 14 scoops
of ice cream covered with whipped cream and a cherry
on top.  I think the Matterhorn was Chester's biggest
creation.  Tommy always managed to get me to turn my
head while he snatched the cherry.  That made me mad,
and he chortled, pleased with himself.  Practical
joker he was.

So that is what I remembered about Chester's.  Now
next door at Bevos,  one night, we all went there for
something.  Was it just to drink beer? or hear some
music?  It was in the 60s, maybe into the 70s.  I'm
not too clear on the decade, but remember that the
night ended when Don Taylor got into actual fist fight
with some frat rats out in the parking lot. Anybody
else remember that night?

So Charlie Loving is turning 60.  I hope to make it to
the party on Friday, the 14th at 909 West 23rd Street
(pretty close to Chester's!).  I'm sure I walked
passed that address many times.


Connie


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