CEASE AND DESIST / Day 1 - BAR STAR??

photocourtesyouhavebeentherebeforeblog

Peeps,


There was a time when before meeting friends for dinner, or diving into a seriously deep drink before really hitting the streets meant slipping into a nicely filled place with some standing room at the bar, a pro pouring drinks, and the right grooves to get you into the mood.  Sure, you wanted a nice grown-up crowd around you, helped if there were attractive, but friendly was fine.  Good looking bartender was great, cute was OK, yet what counted was feeling that your needs were somehow understood (without much talking), and that no judgement/no attitude/no watering down of top-shelf selections was permitted.  Barry White crooning (and I am not dating myself here, cause the sh*t still sounds fresh), ambient grooves of the Theivery Corporation, or acid jazz; all this contributed to setting the mood, as one chatted/waited/watched/planned/drank/fantasized/pondered the state of affairs of everything that had come before, and had brought oneself to this point in time.  Sounds simply enough, yet now so elusive.


While the number of 'bar' bars has decreased in relation to restaurant or night-club bars, many of those with ambitions of being a drinker's bar (or a social bar) miss the mark entirely with the introduction of TV's.  Tucked in every corner, filling wide expanses of wall space, suspended behind the bar-counter and perched between rows of fine spirits, the very essence of hospitality seems lacking, for invariably the channels will be set to sports--face it, if I wanted to watch grown men dressed in sport-wear chasing a moving object, I would have headed for a sports bar or Hooters.  Likewise, if I had wanted to see up-to-date news via FOX or CNN, this could be easily done at home or at any hotel lobby or airport lounge.  With the TV running, invariably all (or most) heads turn in the direction of the moving, flickering image, and conversation hangs/drags/drops/stops; simultaneously so does any chance of meaningful interaction (whether now or later, real or imagined, deep-deep or shallow-deep).


Hate them, yes I do.  Places with pretense of being bars, but instead catering to the crowd that dares not spend a minute alone without the company of an electronic guide.  So easy to pile them in, all clustered around the new techno-god, happily guzzling and swallowing special entrees (really calorie-laden junk), and mindless of the absurdity of it all (when viewed in the context of the tradition of great bars--whether large or small).  Really, give me a hole-in-the-wall/a dive-bar/last-chance-before-the-airport-exit/wrong-side-of-town, a good drink, some company (or none), jukebox or dime-store stereo, and I am happy.  Happy to frequent the spot, and happy to call it a (second) home (of sorts).


Hope you enjoyed today's visual treat, and thanks for indulging me as I rant (on and on) about the absence of good bars, and the proliferation of wanna-be bars.  As well about all the things that I wish would stop/change/disappear into infinity.


Sincerely,
Shane