“Hemingway last dance”
Hemingway last dance
I returned Monterey in late May of 2018. I fell in love with her in 1992. Old Army send me to Fort Ord, California after the Gulf war. The Pacific stole my heart for the second time.
I found the last tavern on the pier in Monterey. I found my Hemingway chair and I ordered a whiskey and a beer for Ernest. I wished I had talked with the great man and the writer. I wondered what was his last words, his first words.
I could hear Hemingway speak. We must live, we must die. He, who wasted life, he will taste great sadness when death come knocking at his door.
Hemingway bled red blood like me, he learned war, women, drinking and how to die. How did he reach his final place? Playing Russian roulette alone, knowing he would lose.
Wrong or right. What did Ernest tell us? Did he remember Agnes? Did he remember the wars? Did he just give-up?
I have followed his steps and I wonder.
Is playing Russian roulette alone, final destination for men who wanted everything and nothing.