MUG DIARIES: Kalisa

Kalisa Kalisa ran a brothel in her early days. A large business woman of sorts with a sassy attitude. Her place of business was a wooded structure with an eatery on the ground floor and rooms on the second. A long balcony capped its street porch. Kalisa was often found sitting outside on a fabricated chair that looked out of place… the chair that is, but then again so did Kalisa. A side laced table filled with paperwork, newspapers and a mug of spirits, balanced itself against the building. Cannery moved past brothel, past its history. Doc’s lab across the street was now a refined club for local legends who talk about life years ago. My friends Eldon DeDinni, Bruce Ariss and Mose Fadeem were among the few that talked and argued with the cannery ghosts that wouldn’t go away. They brought bags with better wine to share. I met Kalisa in her later years. She was as weathered as her establishment. No more a brothel but now a home for the locals stuck in time as well as a group of belly d