I don’t know if hillbilly is considered a disrespectful word or if it’s politically incorrect but I’ve used it all my life and never meant anything negative by it.
Actually two of my all-time favorite people were hillbillies, Elvis and ACM.
I guess to be politically correct, I could call this piece COUNTRY BAR but, the truth is…..we called it our Hillbilly Bar.

I’m thinkin’ back to WHY we called it the Hillbilly Bar.

Well, it was situated on a real old, 2-lane street that connected Folsom to Granite Bay, many, many years ago.
There wasn’t much else on that street when this restaurant/bar opened.
Just lots of trees on both sides of the street.
But by the time we’d discovered it, time had changed it all.
The street had grown to 4+ lanes wide and the trees on one side had given way to houses and businesses.
It was built of logs, low, long and one-story.
There was a feel of those up-north woodsy bar/restaurants places the moment the entrance door was opened.
The bar was to the right with booths along the wall and tables and chairs in the middle of the floor.
The booths were those big, kinda old-fashioned black leather high booths, with a great feel of privacy.
It was dimly lit and perfect for people who just wanted to sit , drink, talk, maybe even let a few teardrops fall.

The restaurant part was through an open archway with the same booths along the walls and the same tables in the middle of the floor.
It was an old established, popular steak house, famous for their cheesy potatoes.
The waitresses pushed rolled carts around and dished out the potatoes from one of those big silver serving things with lids.
We ate there a few times but mostly we went there for the bar and the privacy and …..the Long Island Ice Teas!

It was a place of escape when we needed to be just the two of us.
It was across the street, one block down into our neighborhood, turn left and go another block, turn left again to our house.
Maybe it took 5 minutes to walk, less if it was cold out.

We entered into our relationship at a dangerous time.
We had daughters…..many!
And they were all teenagers.
That, for sure is a dangerous time!
We knew they could easily annihilate us.
Them against us?
We’d lose!

The first time it happened, a PMS brawl had taken place.
It should have been televised.
Much more authentic than those lady wrestlers on TV.
The end result was a hole in the wall.

We needed to talk but they were everywhere in the house, we remembered the restaurant/bar down the street.

It hit us soon as we walked in the door; dim lighting, big old booths and country music playing softly in the background.
That was the place we needed to be.

(If you raised teen-aged girls, I bet you know what I mean.
I’m guessing boys probably weren’t much easier BUT…..they didn’t have PMS once a friggin’ month!)

So, we sat down and were deciding what to drink.
We needed something STRONG, the scene had been pretty ugly.
Long Island Ice Teas…..that would do it!
But, we’d driven over.
No way could we drink Long Islands and then drive, even just the little ways we had to go.
Solution?
Easy!
Take the car home and WALK back.
That’s exactly what we did and for the next 10 years that we lived around two corners from the Hillbilly Bar, we walked.
I don’t remember how many times we sat in that big black booth and drank Long Islands but it was a lot.
Enough times, I think that our footprints had eroded a path in the sidewalk from our house to the bar!!

With the first Long Island Iced Tea, we threw the problem out there on the table.
What the hell had happened THIS time?
Somebody used somebody’s deodorant…..
Somebody took somebody elses blouse…..
Somebody sneezed in somebody’s cereal…..
Somebody stayed in the bathroom too long…..
Somebody taught the dog to bite somebody…..
Somebody hid the TV Clicker on all the somebody elses…..
Somebody who drove made somebody else lie on the floor of the backseat so no one would see her…..
Somebody snuck out at night and somebody snitched…..
Somebody signed my name on their report card again, snitched.
Somebody ate the last cookie (now THAT can start a big brawl when it’s PMS time)
Somebody told that somebody was raising fish in her closet, those little sea-monkey things.
Somebody told that somebody had captured a loose dog and kept it in her bedroom all night long (better a dog than a boyfriend BUT…..I’m not goin’ there!)
Somebody gave somebody a dirty look.
Somebody didn’t do their share of kitchen clean-up.
and, the bad one…..somebody read somebody’s diary!

One of them with the PMS devil on their shoulder was bad enough but it happened from time to time that both were in rage mode and wanting to kill, that’s when things got bad.
That’s when we headed out the door!

Long Island Ice Tea # 2, had us throwing all kinds of solutions on the table.
The best solution we ever had and it was always our first idea was we should rent a small apartment and move out, let them have the house.
We could move back in when they’d either all killed each other or had moved out.
Remember, we were under the influence of two Long Islands.

When they were little and would fight, I’d put the two fighters on the top step of the second floor.
They had to get to the bottom step to be able to go back outside and play AND…..the only way to get to the bottom step was each time one of them said something nice to the other one, they could go down a step, OR one kiss or one hug would get them down a step.
There were 13 steps.
By the time they reached the bottom step they were giggling, forgot what had caused the ruckus in the first place and were out the door to play.
Of course then I was the common enemy!

When Long Island number three hit the table, we knew we were there for a reason but we couldn’t remember what the reason was.

Problem solved!

There never was a number four.

Always before we walked out the door and headed for home, we remembered our promise to each other…..us against them, ALWAYS!

And then we’d walk home.
Had it been against the law to walk drunk, we’d have been in big trouble.

Time passed and we all moved on.
The girls were all on their own and into their lives.

We moved to the ocean to live our dream, and we did.

A few years ago, during a time we were home (Sacramento) visiting with our girls and their families we drove to the little house where we made so many fun memories.
We parked across the street and just looked at everything.
The Cedar tree that we had planted when it was just a baby and named it Sid was taller than the house.
The Palm Tree we had planted in a big bucket and hauled into the house every December and decorated it for Christmas was now planted firmly in the ground and so beautiful.
The shrubs we’d planted dividing our house from the nosey-neighbors next door were gone. I’ll bet the nosey-neighbor had something to do with that.
Oh, and the sweet smelling Jasmine vines that covered the side of the garage and made the inside of the house smell of soft Jasmine was gone!
Who would do that?

We remembered all the fun parties…..there were ten of us.

Bartles and Jaymes, our two Schnauzers came into our life while we were in that house.
They were our only sons; one a doctor, one a lawyer and what wonderful sons they were.
Two beautiful weddings happened in that backyard.
Our grandson Kyle and our granddaughter Sierra were born and spent time in that house.
Kyle carried a little bucket around and a net and tried to catch the goldfish in our Koi Pond. Sometimes a fish would end up in that bucket, he’d carry it around all day and then gently back into the water when his day was done.
Sierra followed Kyle around and watched him in awe, her older boy cousin!

So many wonderful memories.

Some sad stuff too to be honest but we chose not to think there.
Remembering the happy stuff feels so much better.

Next we were gonna stop at the Hillbilly Bar for a drink, probably NOT a Long Island Ice Tea.

Before we crossed the street to park in front of the bar, we saw it.
I don’t think we spoke for a moment, just stared with big eyes.
It was gone!
All the construction stuff was there and our Hillbilly Bar was GONE!
How could they do this?
We drove over, parked and just looked at it where it once had been, not saying a word.
I think we’d both pushed the rewind button of our memories and were back in the Hillbilly Bar where we pondered solutions, talked, laughed and sometimes lost a few tears.
The bar where we sat so many times and let our words and feelings bounce off the walls was gone.
Where did all our emotions go I wondered?
Do they just float around forever?

We’re back home again, not far from where it all started and we use that road now and then.
There’s a big, new structure in the spot where our Hillbilly Bar used to be.

We don’t have teenagers anymore so the need for our walk-to refuge is gone.

Time marches on, Hillbilly Bars are smashed down and teenagers grow up but the memories…..that’s what remains.