In early 1993, after splitting with my ex, I learned of the existence of this humble little hole in the wall. I walked into those "no entry" doors, ID and cover money in hand only to find the owner's (Mary) son (Roy) singing the Beatles "Come Together", in subdued karakoe volume, a smattering of cowboy hats, and the distinct odor of tobacco and booze permiating the air. It would be at THIS "dive" I would meet my wife and mother of my, now, 27 year old daughter. Mary's Outpost is tradition. Attempting to usurp that with "Travel Channel" ponciness is not only insulting, it's offensive. Cleaning up a bar is one thing, redefining something as pure, yet tough, as Mary's into some "Hollywood" falsie makes me retch.... FY JT!!