The Boys at the Bar is about Brie-eaters moving into the land of American Cheese. Names have been changed to protect the guilty but the stories, many of which have appeared in The Denver Post, are all more or less true. They are snapshots of the changing West, where biscuits and gravy are being replaced by biscotti and ginko, where women named Charlene are now neighboring with newcomers called Ashley, where dot.com millionaires are buying “ranch experiences” from guys used to riding their horses into bars and being served.
The Boys at the Bar tell the stories that define a West, real or imagined, that is dying. Their world is threatened by rich, well-educated, urban baby boomers seeking solace and safety in starter castles perched on ridge lines. History has always been about the clash of people moving up against the same watering hole. Today New Westers are having as much trouble defining change as the Boys at the Bar are having coping with it. Things are not looking good for the Boys at the Bar. They say Leafy Spurge sure-as-hell will survive but they’re not at all sure about the West.