Scat

The neon beckoned us down the long alley and
into an elevator that took us down to heaven.

  This weekend, a dear friend of mine came to visit and we decided to stay up past our bedtimes, but we didn't want to be the oldest people in the room.  Just our luck, we stumbled upon the coolest place I've been to in AGES.  I'd heard about Scat Lounge in downtown Fort Worth, and was curious to see if it lived up to it's image.  After all, it has a tough act to follow.  In high school, my fellow band buddies and I would sneak our way into a tiny jazz club in Dallas called the 6051 Club on Forrest Lane, because it made us feel like grown-ups but mostly because the music was so fantastic.  I don't remember the names of any of the musicians we saw, but there were many.  Scat reminds me of this place.  The clientele is low key, great music is the focus and the drinks are de-lish.  My friend, Lynne, and I spent the night gabbing, and trying to nail a good shot of Joel Cross, the performer that night.  You can see her shots here and here.  I think I learned something that night, dirty martini's and all.  I need to stay up past my bedtime more often.