Last week east ender Dana Jennings took photos of a small 1920 brick bungalow on Harrisburg near Caylor — next to a pipe yard, railroad tracks, a boarding house . . . and on its west side, the El Torito Lounge:
Some would say good riddance to El Torito. But I liked the painted sign out front with the flagrantly sexual old Bull leering and leaning on his pool cue. I’m going to miss him. He was a waymarker, a placeholder, a sign that oriented me in my travels. “Oh, there’s the bull on the purple bar….I’m on Harrisburg near the tracks, almost home.” That sort of thing. But the streetscape needs the light rail, so this loss is semi rather than bitter sweet.
Losing the bungalow to the backhoe’s claw is more painful.
