Will she miss what she describes as a "motherly thing" with club employees?
"Yeah," she says. "They're all like my good friends, my kids. I dunno, I'm gonna miss the place. It's a torn thing that I have here. It's something that I can't figure out. Some of the girls at Beeloe's come up to me and talk to me and they say, 'What am I going to do? I'm going out with this guy, and he's a schmuck,' and I try to tell 'em to lose the guy or whatever. . . .
"My 19-year-old daughter just announced that I was gonna be a grandmother," she continues. "She's moving in with me to have the baby."
Parks surveys the inside of Beeloe's, the joyful drunks, the staff, the band onstage, everything. She tells me of a woman who is getting a petition together to keep Parks on at Beeloe's. She shakes her head slowly and shrugs her shoulders.
"Ah," she says rather dolefully, "maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is just outdated. At least I'll be able to spend time with my granddaughter."