It’s 5am Saturday morning. I’ve pasted my own deadline of Friday night to get my blog written. It’s been an insane week full of stress at work with a shortage of staff, a new computer system in place, customers who have little patience at waiting, on top of my blog project. The need for funds has forced me to add more hours to support my Blog project, which now draws to a close end. It’s a death in a way, precisely what I expressed a few days ago. There always comes an end to any project, despite how difficult it becomes to let go.
I arrived on my usual Wednesday with two bars not seemingly far from each other, Pete’s Tavern and Parkside Lounge, both Downtown. In some quick morning research, I’d found a rough walking route- Broadway. The order of the book was Parkside Lounge and then Pete’s Tavern but the opening varied- 11:30am Pete’s opened, 1:30pm Parkside and the 3:30pm train (my goal): made my order switch.
Pete’s Tavern is close to Union Square- the place I’ve enjoyed for many years. Old Town Bar is also close by, one of my favorites to date. I’ve always imagined myself as the kind of guy who’d sit in a pub- tuck myself away in a booth with either a pen & paper or a laptop and write. I’ve always preferred pen and paper for first drafts, especially in that kind of environment, but in the interest of time, I think it’d only be prudent to do it directly from the laptop. I may need to grow an umbilical cord for the bathroom, or change to part camel. There’s no place better than an old dark environment to get the imagination to run. As a novelist, consistent visits to a NYC place may be necessary and a place may revolve around the ending days of the Best Bar Wednesday Blog Series Tour- thank you Jef Klein.
Pete’s Tavern is a wonderful place and the book gave me a good background. Another writer, Richard McDermott, enlightened me after our meeting at Bridge Café. He’s a history writer, and has extensively researched the Bridge Café, Pete’s Tavern, the Ear Inn and a few others. He was kind enough to send me some research on Pete’s, which I’d read before my visit- thank you Richard. I’d also been told by fellow creative Glen Liberman about the bar he’d been to before. It seemed everyone but me knew about the place. It bills itself as “the oldest continuously operating drinking establishment in New York City, opened in 1864”. The place has a beautiful plaque in honor of it’s roll in literature and it’s contribution to the mind of the novelist O.Henry and his creation “Gift of the Magi”; a classic in literature, and Ludwig Bemelman, creator of the children’s story “Madeline”. Again we cross paths with Bemelman- his artwork adorns the bar named in his honor at the Carlyle Hotel – an earlier visit on my BBW Tour. He’d designed the walls of the hotel bar for payment of residing there.
Pete’s Tavern has that fine old décor. Dark woods, brick work and Victorian booths, like Booth 3 in which O. Henry supposedly penned “Gift”. What struck me is it sat empty until about 1pm. I intended on sitting there, but was torn between the bar and the booth. I prefer a place I can “Scoot” out of, and a booth is a commitment. The chairs were high backed and prevented others from looking over on to what you do- so writing I’d imagine was perfect here. The Booth had a few letters written by O.Henry framed in the back (you can see on our blog pictures). The area was great for seeing the coming and going of visitors. It was said he’d go there to listen into conversations in hope of inspiration.
The tavern has a virtual who’s who of the entertainment industry on every wall- movie stars, a president, sports heroes, you name it. From the front to the very back were pictures from the present to the past, from James Dean to Frank Sinatra, most of them autographed. It’s a wonderful place to sit and absorb your surroundings and they played music straight out of the Beat generation. There were a few TV’s and two back rooms that I only peeked at. The marble of the stairway to the bathroom was worn to the comfort of thousands of feet. I don’t think anything can really describe something, which has traversed time under such heavy foot traffic like a bit of Europe in America. A place I could be comfortable in for a long stay.
I ordered their 1864 ale, and stuck with that. It’s made specifically for Pete’s Tavern and was pretty damn good. It had an “old” feel to it. I don’t know exactly what that means except it creates the aura. Like the Patriot collection made by Samuel Adams years ago which duplicated recipes from 1700’s America- a set of 4 beers- one which actually tasted like buckshot. The bartender brought me the beer; I took a few pictures, and sat back down for a “think”.
I watched some men come in and sit towards the front. Every now and then I’d hear tough talk, a “fuckin this, a fuckin that”. The manager sat in the back and waited to seat people. He watched the sports game on the TV. Another man sat at the opposite end, and ordered a meal. In front of him stood an old comical sign which I’d taken a picture of- gold font on a black background that read, “How to live on $15 a week”. It lays it out as follows: Whiskey & Beer at $8.00, Wife’s Beer & Brandy $1.40, Groceries –on credit, Rent- pay next week, Mid-week Whiskey $1.50, Coal- Borrow neighbors, Life Insurance (Wife’s) .50, Cigars- .50, Movies- .60, Pinochle Club- .50, Hot tip on Horses- .50, Dog food- .60, Snuff- .40 and poker game- 1.20 totals- $16.40 – AND at the end it states, “This means going into debt, so cut out Wife’s Beer & Brandy”. It was one of those signs of yesterday which will never return. I heard on the news yesterday women have surpassed men in practically everything- through a article in some world-renowned magazine. Two men to every three women graduate college, more women are in middle management than ever before and some other information which points to men being the inferior sex. A discussion took place on how this happened and attributed the move in use of brain over brawn. A manufacturer driven economy- industrial revolution- needed physical strength to support its foundation, and when the economy turned to a computer based service oriented system, women excelled. What the woman on the interview said, was the role a man needs to play must revolve around communication. Agreed- I MUST say.
I ordered a hero special, which was about the same price as a beer. The bartender treated me to one, and my total bill came to about $25.00- I’d already bypassed a weekly allowance back IN THE DAY. I grabbed my check and hustled to Parkside at almost 1:30.
East Houston seemed a lot longer than I remembered it. I passed Katz Deli, an area I was familiar with, and continued into unknown territory. I’d passed Ave A, B and C without knowledge of the cross street- the neighborhood changed. It looked more “ify”, graffiti on the walls, people on the street hangin, and some questionable buildings. I found a school crossing guard and asked her if she knew where Parkside Lounge was- she didn’t speak English, only Spanish. It STILL drives me crazy how someone can come here and not learn the English language. If you’re going to be an immigrant here, you SHOULD learn the language- no if and or buts. When living in a foreign country, do as they do- its part of the respect of one’s nation. If you live in Spain- learn Spanish, if you live in Italy- learn Italian, if you live in the US learn ENGLISH. At this point, I could get into a whole conversation on the battle of immigration and border control, but I have WAY too much to say about that so let me continue.
When I arrived at Parkside Lounge, I knew I’d been there before. Several times I’d seen my friend Jefferson Thomas play in the back room. It was a small intimate place, with a pool table and very music oriented. Posters advertised who was going on when, and even a keyboard of tile surrounded the sitting area. The bartender, Josh, a tattooed young guy, looked more like an artist than a bartender. I went in there enthusiastic, with recognition of the place. I ordered an unfamiliar beer that I didn’t like at all. I had $14 in my pocket and that was $6. I felt I had to force it down regardless of its taste.
My father made me eat things I despised. Growing up around our house waste was NOT an option. My brother and I always ate like “birds” as my parents used to say. With their rationing as children, and use of all food, it disgusted my father if we didn’t eat what we were given. We’d heard things like people starving in Ethiopia and do you know how many people that could feed?? I’d excuse myself to the bathroom with cheeks loaded like a chipmunk of food I didn’t like. I was once forced to eat green beans and vomited. Only then did I get, “he doesn’t need to eat green beans from now on.”
The point was well taken, as I got older. I still have problems with waste, and after I worked in a restaurant, I took on the same disgust on how many just fritter away food, like a wealthy commodity when there are so many starving in the world. I’ll rarely waste beer, unless it reaches the point of brain altering health or a vomit throwing stomach.
I ordered a Negra Modelo after that and had some conversation with the bartender. He asked me if I’d like a lime in my beer, which kinda took me by surprise. I’d never heard of a lime in a dark beer before. We talked about it, and he even included it in his autograph in my book- “No Limes in Dark Beers”. He told me about the World cup and how they had a big contingent of Hollanders there. We talked about a trip to Amsterdam, and he told me of his Oktoberfest to Austria. Made me think about the trip.
A place like Parkside is more a evening spot with good music and vibes, there’s no place like night time in New York City. In the background the music was punk and most of the stickers on the bar reflected it. All around the place showed urban music- funk, punk, rock & roll. It was known to be one of the hot spots for new live music. An afternoon visit to Parkside lacked people, but to me, that’s part of the attraction in the day. I had two beers, and left content.
One note I’d taken and placed in my book that morning was Insight from the Dalai Lama calendar for July 14th, 2010- it read, “This human body is a precious endowment, potent and yet fragile. Simply by virtue of being alive, you are at a very important juncture, and carry a great responsibility.” It’s with that thought I’ll leave you to think- like myself on how to proceed with your day.
Only two weeks left- next week it’s PJ Clarke’s and Spring Lounge. There is sidetrack adventure still untapped- a trip to Coney Island with Jefferson Thomas which I need to somehow slip in before the summer is over, besides I want to shoot a freak.
Have a great day.