In the afternoon around three, as the low sun floats in, Café Keough takes on a soft glow.  Jazz wafts from the speakers, jiving with the light tap dance of the law school laptops.  Soon enough the banker ambles around the corner for a chat. The newspaper publisher comes in to hash out river city politics.  And then the lawyers - can't seem to get away from them . . . even married one. The Brazilian interpreter says this place is Buenos Aries.  The Parisians say it’s Paris.  The Germans say it’s Vienna and I just smile and say welcome to Memphis.