Hemingway table…


  Hemingway table…

I found Hemingway table in Paris, in the Spring of 1978. I found Hemingway table in Monterey, California in 1992. I searched Central and South America  for three years, seeking the places Hemingway loved. I dreamed of visiting Cuba. I want to stand where he wrote his great novels.

I know I cannot be like Hemingway. He was a wild and strong man who survived two world wars, boxed, lived and loved. Only one Hemingway, my friend.

In the Winter of my life. I became like Salinger. I like quiet, privacy and honest/kind people. I want faceless books and easy life.

I drank a lot of the whiskey in Monterey. I wrote story of the sea, stories of the beautiful women I have known and the endless war. I became the dark poet of the bay.

I wonder did Hemingway regret anything? I wonder what was his last thoughts, his last wishes?

In Paris in 1978, I wish I was with him. I wished I was with him in 1921, when the great writers of our world gathered. The city of lights was overtook by the men and women who love to create words, paintings and song. I would love to listen to him and the great writers discuss war, women and the drink.

Maybe one day at the Purgatory Inn. I will ask Ernest. Did he miss anything?

Dancing Coyote