Old haunts are especially good places for inspiration. My best bar this week was McSorleys, I was in my early twenties when I first visited. I distinctly remember the sawdust-covered floor as a young man, something you might see in old England or Ireland- once used to cover spilt beers and spit which caked the floors. A spit and sawdust pub is defined as a dirty and untidy pub, not modern in any way and lacks what one might consider today as attractive. I like to consider a place like this perfect for the poet- a place to be absorbed into the heart of every writer, a place stripped bare of pretences and materialism which plagues the credit card rich American.
When you walk into McSorleys, you see age. The old furnace still used to heat the place, the old carved tables, the mementos behind the bar and on the walls, the bartender who wears a white apron and the man who takes orders in his outfit of gray. You see layers of dust that line relics and aged yellow papers in frames from decades of cigarette smoke. You’ll find more than your share of history; there’s even an original wanted poster for John Wilkes Booth for the assassination of Abraham Lincoln STILL mounted behind the bar. Granted this WAS an all male pub up until the 1960’s where men could go and share stories, drinks and plain debauchery. Lets face it, it’s not the sort of place you’d take your first date or find a woman saying, “Ooooooo what a lovely place”.
McSorleys serves only two kinds of beers- a light and a dark. When you order, you get two 8 oz beers (an imperial pint) which eventually leads you down a road of not knowing HOW much you drank. Every Christmas for the last nine years my buddy Jefferson Thomas gets his friends together for “International Biscuit Day” there. We fill a couple tables at the front, probably between 10-15 guys and do some serious bullshitting and drinking. Last year, I wasn’t there but I did get this lovely text message on totals which till this day I’ve saved, “2009 totals are in: 256 beers, 800 dollar tab w tip yesterday. An all time record.” – In some ways I was glad I wasn’t there. I just hand everything I have to who ever pays the damn thing.
The one year anniversary of 9-11, I joined Jefferson and our friend Tom at ground zero for the reading of the names, we moved from there to McSorleys on Tom’s recommendation to toss back a few. We found the place PACKED with firefighters from all over the nation- those who helped our great city in a time of serious need. We sat in a far corner and drank quietly in their midst. It was an amazing scene, where all these souls drank and shared, and drank… man did they drink. Anyway, we were invited in by a firefighter to enjoy and bullshit. It was a momentous occasion, a humbling fact, to see all these men who poured their own lives into New York by way of this horrific event.
Not one of us walked away without this grand appreciation of how great a nation we live in, and how lucky and honored we are to have people like this fighting and supporting us. Never take for granted you can speak your mind. You MUST remember-the sacrifices, which are made to let you do that. When you see the insides of McSorleys, the guts of the place, you see not just an old flag mounted on the wall, but you see Presidents, sportsman, policeman, you see people of the highest character- you see REAL people. The inspiration of the place led me to pen a poem in an isolated corner titled, “Sawdust fills the Floor”
In the book under McSorleys I underlined, “The Most important thing in a bar is people.” A few beers after I arrived, I opened up to a guy from White Plains, a place not far from my home. I found out he had a good friend down the Jersey shore, very close to where I grew up. He talked of bars like Donovans in Sea Bright, Bar A in Belmar- many bars I’d been familiar with in younger days. His name was Gary. It’s only at places like this I find that kind of down to earth guy. We had a good conversation, I had him sign my book and I was out shortly after to my next destination- Milanos bar.
The address was on East Houston in the vicinity of the Bowery. I didn’t think it’d be that far, so I’d walk. I’d eventually meet Houston and figure out which direction to go.
The walk was sketchy. I don’t remember much of the scenery, but I did pass one of my favorite places Katz Delicatessen, one of the oldest Deli’s in Manhattan famous for it’s clients and the scene in “When Harry met Sally” where Meg Ryan fakes an orgasm at a table with Billy Crystal. See here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-bsf2x-aeE - all at Katz. I also passed a beautiful mural on a steel door that I took and finally arrived at the place.
Milano’s was small. They played the World Cup on a TV above the doorway and a few guys surrounded it. The bartender was an Irish woman with a thick brogue. I had only $10 left- enough for a Guinness. I sat right in front of a great photograph signed by some of the greatest Yankees ever- Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford, Joe Dimaggio and Casey Stengel. I took a few pictures, which littered the walls. It had a good feel- small with a few tables in back. It was dark, which of course I liked and like I said- plenty of photographs. It’s changed since the picture in the book; cleaned up. I got up, walked about, looked at details and sat down again. They didn’t serve food, which by this time I was dying for (liquid lunch), so my decision was made on account of my stomach. Not much to say about the place, after only one beer I had little to say about the World Cup, so I’d move on to a place I could use my credit card for a meal.
Katz was the opposite direction. I continued up the street until I found a Cajun place called Acme Bar at 9 Great Jones. All I thought of was Bugs Bunny cartoons and Acme products funny enough on Great “Chuck” Jones Street. Their menu looked interesting and when I got in, they had a nice bar with that New Orleans feel. I had a last beer and something with chicken and spice for dinner. All I kept was the receipt.
I was fortunate to get the express at the junction- the ONLY one and I arrived home a little after 6pm. Not bad- three bars, a good walk, good drinks and a nap was icing on the cake.
Next week, I visit Molly’s Pub and Restaurant, Shebeen on 3rd Ave (sawdust and all) and the polar opposite- the Oak Room at the Algonquin. My trip will be on a delay due to an early dismissal (schools finishing) so I HOPE to get through them both. Thanks for reading and cheers!