The Bash on B Street

In my home town we quite simply know how to whoop it up.

Chicago has nothing on us. We’ve been dubbed “little Chicago” for both ethnic and nefarious reasons. And “little Pittsburgh” for our steel production.

Yes, my friend, it’s in Pueblo, Colorado - particularly at this time, where visceral beats brought forth by a hip hop DJ fill the air, and bodies inevitably sway and rock to the music - that the addition of Latino blood completes the admixture to create a heady potion for all to imbibe.

 Galileo's terrazo as photographed by author.

 Signs warn “No Dancing!” but hardly a soul can bear heeding them out on the lovely “terrazo“ of Galileo‘s Italian restaurant.This is a town unlike any other, and the setting is perfect for the young, so brimming full of the broth of life and limbo invitation of love. Bring out the stick and someone will slip beneath it to the accompaniment of hard rock or rhythmic chatter. Is it really music? Maybe not as my old fashioned tastes would have it, but it matters little.

Bear in mind, it’s not like I just found Pueblo recently - although I’ve certainly re-discovered this burg many a time during my 58 years here, come August.

But this is, you see, that time of year in which we celebrate the summer solstice with the “B Street Bash.”

In the grand, old historic district, B, as on Victoria and nearby streets, strings of events transpire each Friday night of June.

As the song goes: “Are the stars out tonight? I don’t care if it’s cloudy or bright…”

Hell, there are plenty of glimmers all around, whether God or man made.

Who cares what the source of the illumination may be?

Suffice it to say that this is the fourth of four such weekend events - and no one can seem to get enough of them.

Want a shot? Want a beer? How about a great single malt Scotch Whiskey?

Fine - we’ve got it, and the whole world seems lined up at the door for it along with a slice of pizza!

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