A Hunting We Will Go....(Uh Oh)

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Nights in Snow Driven Haze

Outworlder Materialized

It was a gloomy winter night at ‘Tidewaters’ on Atlantic Avenue in East Rockaway. The owner, who I’ll call Sam Slick, had owned other bars in Valley Stream and Rockville Centre, had a way of pissing off his bartenders and janitor.

His bartender at the time was a young Yaega Lee and a long haired, wooley faced, mildly psychotic, redneck country dude who did clean up and whatever else needed to be done, including backing up the bartender.

The janitor was not happy with Sam Slick and let him know he was incredibly depressed about how he was being treated and how he was being paid. The janitor also let Sam Slick know he didn’t like the way Yaega was being treated either. The janitor had his hair braded in Rasta style corn rows and wore black army boots, usually covered in shit from the overflowing toilets at ‘Tidewaters’. After that long night the janitor got on the phone with Sam Slick and the conversation went something like this:

“Sam, I’ve worked for you off and on for years, you talk about me like a piece of shit to all your so called friends, I get treated like a fucking leper in the place I work and you can’t even call me by my name when I’m working…I’m a man, not a thing! Fuck you Sam, fuck this bar and screw your coke snorting friends. After tonight you will never treat me like this again. I’ll fix you.” Sam heard what sounded like sobbing and his sadistic streak flared up.

Sam screamed into the phone trying to be heard over the jukebox, “Fuck you, you goddamed ingrate, I’ll see you in the morning and you’ll get everything you got coming you fucking long haired hippie freak…go back to the 60’s where you belong.” Sam was irate, that janitor got under his skin and he was going to make him sweat for his money. Sam was gonna fix this asshole. It was 3:30 AM.

When Sam walked into Tidewaters just after dawn, the bar was in a shambles, empty beer bottles were all over the place, broken glass was on the floor and the radio was blasting heavy metal mind bending sound. Sam was pissed and started walking behind the bar when he found the note. “Tell them all I love them, you’ll never screw me again….goodbye!” It was the smell that attracted Sam to the back area. That got him running, his eyes took it in and his face went pale.

The lifeless body hung from the dog chain noose, the cornrows, ponytail and shit stained boots left no doubt that it was Sam’s distraught janitor, N.F., hanging from the neck. Yaega had come in the bar behind Sam and walked to the back and saw N.F.’s dangling body hanging from a dog chain, she screamed. “Do something Sam, get him down, get him down, shouted Yaega. Sam who pissed himself, cringed as he put his arms around the lifeless corps and lifted it up.

The cornrow wig fell off, and the chain gave way from the loose pvc pipe, the stuffed coat revealed the blow up doll covered in garden manure, the real looking human face mask on the dummy had a note on the forehead “Look What You’ve Done”. The laughter from a hiding place and the half empty bottle of ice cold Heineken was enough. Sam was the victim of N.F.’s vengeance. Yaega laughed hysterically. (Sam Slick squared it with N.F.)

Lets fast forward to the here and now.

N.F. has a long history to those who have been part of the bar scene in the late 90’s and early 2K’s. He disappeared in the woods of Upstate N.Y. in a move that was staged from several locations including Bears Garage. After one warm autumn a few years passed, he left “downstate” swearing not to return if he could help it. An event came up and he couldn’t help being at, so he materialized.

Extraterrestrials were meeting in a hangar at Kennedy Airport to discuss migration, logistics and disbursements for outworlders working on earth during a recent Sunday past. N.F. came in the Saturday Night before(Dec. 6) to catch up with old friends. The only one to show up on that snowy Saturday Night was Yaega Lee. The three of us were at ‘Game On’ talking the night away and catching up on life. All in all, a good time. There are other bar stories about N.F. and the outworlders to be blogged about in another time, maybe another place.

RJ

Karaoke Night: A Review

REMEMBERING A BLAST OF AN EVENING

Posted By Ruby

Edited by RJ

Preface: I had a nice night given I went to come down off of a bad day. The night helped take the edge off my broken heart and bitter grief. My Uncle, WWII Veteran, Contractor, Master Carpenter and Co-Founder of the finest preschool in Queens, one of the finest in New York City died suddenly. Uncle Henry was 82. He was the last of eight brothers.

I had to let out the pain. Even though it was my Uncle that passed all I could do was think of my late wife. I needed to let go some pain, so I sang a couple of songs that night but hardly looked at the screen. I got a couple of hot young women who weren't gay to let me sing to them so I could concentrate on the words and hope to get these young women or those around them to feel what I was feeling.

Even though there were compliments I took it in stride realizing much liquor had passed over the bar. It helped some to sing a bit. There was much to see and laugh about. Nobody was mocked or ridiculed and many struggling singer got help from 'the crowd'. Many solo's became chorale events of the finest calibur. You should have been there no matter who you feared would be singing and drinking. So the following is from Robin sent to me in an e-mail edited for time and space.

RJ, I hope you had a good time Thursday (Karaoke) night. I sure as hell did. OMG!! Gary and Laurie were great and everyone was having so much fun that (I don't know when you left, you know, Tequila and all that) Elvin actually went for the extra hour and wants to do it at least once a month.

Oh, yeah, I never realized at previous Karaoke's that you can actually sing! I thought you were just a talker but you're second number was excellent. Actually, after everyone loosened up, they also sounded better (how drunk was I? I didn't feel that drunk).

I stayed until 4:00 a.m. and bar backed S.T. but people were still there at that time so I think I left. When I got home E.T. was getting ready for work so that wasn't great. I passed out when he left and woke up 8 hours later still drunk (I think). I got to work around 2:00 p.m. and when I opened the door it wasn't that bad for a circus tent. Amazing, I looked behind the bar and even though I helped S.T. clean up before I left there were beer bottles everywhere, glasses and crap stuck to everything.

Hangover in hand, feeling like a truck ran over me (every muscle in my body hurt, too much dancing maybe?) I started to clean up. Just when I was ready to give up, my friend A.D. came in and helped me. What an angel, he swept, mopped and brought out the cases I needed to restock. Without that help I think I would have died.

I am truly lucky to have people like this in my life, I'm used to being the person who is the pleaser and I am also not comfortable with others doing for me what I am responsible for. (OCD? or pride?, I have no idea) In closing (I'm so tired and I had to stay late for S.T. [who covered for Nikki] because S.T. was puking all day so I covered until 9:00) who is the "Belle of the Ball"?

Who can work all day, drink, bar back until 4 in the morning and then go back to work the next day and clean the mess, restock and still make out well in tips even though they are running on fumes? Tis' I!! Not to toot my own horn about being a party animal, but really, this late 20ish year old can't keep up with the pro's. I rest my case (lol).

I hope you had fun RJ, thanks for the drinks and I hope to see you soon!!

Love,

Ruby

Sing & Dance

KARAOKE DANCE PARTY

Hosted by

Gary & Laurie

WHEN: Thursday, DECEMBER 4th 9:00PM-MIDNIGHT

WHERE: BROADWAY LOUNGE
(formerly the Corner Tavern)
(516) 599-9867

Even if you don't sing or dance - come on down and hang out, meet some new people and make some new friends!
Please remember - it is NOT the Apollo, it is NOT a contest and we do not allow boo'ing or disrespect of any kind.

It's all about having a GOOD TIME!
___________________________________________________

No Cover

SINGING &/OR DANCING NOT REQUIRED

Wide selection of kareoke and dance music available (including oldies, rock, pop, R&B, jazz, blues, standards, disco, funk, salsa, bachata, merengue, reggaeton) - over 9,000 karaoke songs to choose from or bring your own karaoke CD)!

Go to www.mapquest.com for door-to-door directions

Gary & Laurie Morris are professinal singers, DJ's and KJ's (Karaoke Hosts). Gary was formerly with the Elsberry Hobbs Drifters. Gary & Laurie are available for all types of parties, weddings corporate events, cocktail hours, fundraisers, block parties or anytime you need service.

Please e-mail glmproductions@aol.com, go to www.myspace.com/glmproductions or call 917-916-1261 for more information.

Be There! Be Fun! Be Happy!

Good Times Gone Bad

Bar Violence

“I’m glad to hear she’s alright….that’s why you always keep a cell phone and a self defense item on you when you tend bar…no Elly, I don’t want to scold Violetta and I would advise no one else do that either…does Violetta have health insurance?” “RJ, what does that have to do with being attacked, she’s OK, some bruising, most of her clothes were ripped or torn but that’s all” said Elly. “She’s going to need to talk to a psychologist or psychiatrist Elly.”

“Why, she’s got her family around her and the asshole who put his hands on her is going to be screwed in Court, criminal and civil, she doesn’t need a shrink RJ.” Elly’s voice was full of anger at my suggestion, but I pressed my point. “Elly, its not about us, Violetta is going to go through a lot of anxiety as a result of this attack, most people do…Post Traumatic Stress is just not a soldiers problem…it can happen to anyone who has been traumatized.”

Elly agreed with me and said she would pursue it with Arty. After I got off the phone with her I thought about this issue again, violence against bartenders and violence in bars in general. I know its part of all cultures, part of the American experience. It is chronicled in world history from the Old Testament to the Code of Hammarabi, from the fictional works of the Tales of Canterbury to The Choirboys, bars and violence seem to always have a relationship.

What we need to address is the “bar culture” and ask ourselves ‘what in the hell is it turning into.’ In metropolitan areas and their suburbs during the last century the neighborhood bar was a place that ‘everybody knows your name’….it seems that was yesterday. Trends in our nation show that people go to high end bars where they are not known, they drink more, and respond with belligerence and violence. (Reference the American Bar Association).

In other countries in North America (Canada) Law Enforcement has created Task Forces and Research Groups to address the problem. In Calgary a “violent crime suppression team” was created with the purpose of preventing bar violence and attacks. (Reference: CBC News, October 23, 2008) In Southeast Pennsylvania, SERAPH Inc., a bar violence prevention group has created The Entertainment Venue Crime Prevention Program to help local municipalities deal with bar, lounge and entertainment venue violence. (Reference: http://www.seraph.net)

I will share with you some of the recent stories of bar violence. Keep in mind, it could happen anywhere assholes and alcohol come in contact with one another. The first story is from “BUZZNET”: "Dio's 'Holy Diver' Leads to Assault at Karaoke Bar
Have you ever experienced a performer at your local karaoke bar, so terrible, that you wanted to just run up on stage and throw him off? A 24-year-old Wisconsin man recently took that fantasy too far and wound up in jail.

Accoring to The Smoking Gun, Kyle Drinkwine attacked 28-year-old James Mischler at Emma's Bar in River Falls, Wisconsin, during his rendition of Dio's "Holy Diver," of which Drinkwine found to be far from impressive. The action didn't stop there as Drinkwine also assaulted Mischler's 29-year-old friend Cyrus Kozub and was eventually caught by police.

So was Drinkwine drunk at the time or did he really just hate Mischler's singing that much!? .169 is what Drinkwine blew into the Breathalyzer. That's not just being tippy ... That's really really really drunk.

'Though Drinkwine declined to speak with cops following his arrest, an officer overheard him, during a jail phone call, tell a friend he "fu**ed up" and was arrested for fighting,' The Smoking Gun revealed."


Sometimes the problems start over much less, The St. Johns ‘TRADEWINDS’ a Virgin Island Newspaper reported Sunday about several people sentenced on felony charges in relation to a bar fight. “The judge did not make any immediate rulings in regard to 20-year-old Jahlil Ward, the only defendant convicted of the most serious crime of first-degree murder who now faces life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Prosecutors argued at last month’s trial that Ward fatally stabbed Cockayne eight times just after midnight on June 19, 2007, about a half-hour after the Pennsylvania man got into an altercation with Boston and Thomas inside Cruz Bay’s Front Yard bar.

Largely due to a media campaign waged by Cockayne’s family, who became frustrated with the pace, competence and transparency of the police investigation, the brutal attack generated unfavorable national headlines regarding the safety of tourists visiting the Virgin Islands and a significant amount of negative publicity for St. John.

On October 10, six men and six women convicted Ward of assault and murder. But the jurors were not swayed by prosecutors’ arguments that the multiple attacks on Cockayne that night were all part of an orchestrated series of events, with the three defendants acting in concert and all equally culpable in the murder.

The 21-year-old, inebriated and beat up, could not defend himself, and ultimately bled to death from a wound to his femoral artery.” Reported By Joseph Tsidulko

We all need to consider our environment, one drunken patron (aka – asshole) or a misunderstanding can escalate out of control if a bartender, bar owner or well meaning patrons do the wrong things or the right reasons. Our drinking environment can become life threatening if we don’t deal with the verbal, hate inspired venom brought on by alcohol pollution. It is more than tragedy to get killed having a good time.

We all know and have bar stories of people hurt, ruined or killed in a bar fight. Having been a career law enforcer, I have more stories than most, they all end the same – somebody’s dead or dying and everybody’s a victim in some way. I encourage bar owners and bar tenders out of professional necessity to learn how to diffuse situations before they start. Also know when to 'just call the police' after getting yourself to safety when the “shit hits the fan”.


Recently a former Chicago Police Officer was fired, tried and convicted for beating up a petite female bartender. He was also convicted of attempting to intimidate the same bartender from pressing charges. Shootings have started in bars and bullets fired by drunks don’t know friends, family, foe or you.

If your in an environment that doesn’t feel right, seem right or is just plain toxic, not for girlfriend, boyfriend, fuck buddy or buy back, don’t stay in that place.

In a world where some bar owners will cater to any set of lowlifes to sell beer, you need to know that the place you choose to drink doesn’t attract an element that attracts the attention of law enforcement. Violetta could have been another beautiful girl stuffing a casket, leaving sorrow and grief for her family, friends and lover. Be you a patron or bartender, don’t get killed trying to have a good time.


NOTE FOR THOUGHT

Bar Assault Under Investigation

BY JENNIFER MALONEY | jennifer.maloney@newsday.com
November 17, 2008

Nassau County police are investigating an assault in East Rockaway that left a 26-year-old man in critical condition, police said. According to police, John Hargett, 25, of Maspeth, assaulted an East Rockaway man Saturday at 3 a.m. at the Rocks Bar (On The Rocks) at 33 Main St. The victim was admitted to South Nassau Communities Hospital for a serious head injury, police said. Hargett was charged with first-degree assault and arraigned yesterday in First District Court in Hempstead. Bail was set at $75,000 cash or $200,000 bond. He did not meet bail and remained in Nassau County jail in East Meadow.


Bar Owners, don’t let your little business become a big crime scene.



RJ

Her Tears On My Birthday

Marine Corps Birthday Toast – A Reflection

There have been several times in my life I really thought I was wasting my time doing anything for or in a bar. Most of the time you get people who only show up to chow down and drink enough booze to push it all back up again. I have seen it happen in many establishments, ruining the occasion because most forgot what they showed up for in the first place. Ruby told me this could be different. It was very different.

It had been a plan between the ‘staff’ and myself to provide food and a ‘veterans service pin’,presented to every veteran attending, as a commemoration of the event. A good ships bell that was donated by a Marine (guess who) and a plaque to mount it on delivered by an old Master Sergeant from the Army Airborne was made ready for mounting. After setting up flags, uniforms, photos and posters to set the right mood along with a portable amplifier. We were ready.

The informal toast is a reminder to me, information which I shared with all, that the Marine Corps was founded in a bar, Tun Tavern, in Pennsylvania. This country’s first fighting force was formed and recruited while drinks were being served, while people shared raunchy conversation and loud talk. It wasn’t much different this year except that the drinks, the shots, found their meaning in those we drank too.


Breezy found the Kraut’s tools and mounted the bell. Mr. E loved it. (That is when he saw it mounted) We opened by standing and saying the pledge, playing the Star Spangled Banner and toasting the United States of America. (I was the MC, maybe if this is done in the future we can find someone to do it better). We then toasted the active duty Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Coast Guard and Marines.

When we started toasting those Veterans still breathing and among us the ‘Lounge’ came alive with a good feeling of old fashioned Americanism. We toasted the Airborne, we toasted each other and said really meaningful heartfelt sentiments that really made me happy. I was totally motivated by the evening. The attraction of the evening was the POW/MIA Observance set up in the back of the lounge. It was haunting and provocative, the POW/MIA flag under blacklight with three white roses.


During the evening Mary and her friend came in and were really having a great time. Then we got to the last toasts to those who had fallen. During the bottom half of the hour when everyone got going toasting each other Mary told me about her late husband, James a Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant who forced the war to make sense to himself and to his superiors in every way he possibly could. He didn’t succeed.

Rather than admit his mission was a failure, that the good sons and fathers he commanded were sacrificed for no apparent good reason, or that what he did wouldn’t matter under a new command he confronted his superiors in the only way he could make them understand. Command is a matter of honor, you get command when you demonstrate beyond all doubt you can lead, to keep his honor clean he fell on his sword.

That’s the polite way of saying he didn’t get the help he needed when he needed it.

When a warrior falls, for reasons the protected may never understand, it wounds the collective soul of the nation. Not only must we put away a warrior, but what happens to the lives of those who support them? What happens to the Wives who become widows and the sons and daughters who become fatherless? Mary told me what happens, the government quietly discards them and runs them through red tape and heartache even before the warrior is in the ground.


Mary told me of the Tragedy Assistance Program or TAPS. Founded out of tragedy in 1994, TAPS has grown and established itself as the front line resource to families and loved ones of our military men and women. TAPS has provided comfort and care, 24hours a day, 7 days a week through comprehensive services and programs including peer based emotional support, case work assistance, crisis intervention, and grief and trauma resources.



Mary told me of how TAPS uses The Power of Women. A tradition in Iraq has becomes a Fundraiser for TAPS. Many Iraqi women give away jewelry to their friends. They often wear many of these beautiful beaded bracelets to have one available to give when the opportunity presents itself. It means more to them to share a gift and show their love than to have a material possession, even something precious.

TAPS has a limited number of these bracelets, made by Iraqi Women out of gratitude to United States Service Members. The bracelet Mary wore was beautiful, given to her by another widow. After Mary gave a dedication to her husband and we toasted his service, Norm put the Gunny’s Picture on the plaque mounting the bell. Mary hugged me and gave me her bracelet.

I let her know quickly I was not worthy of such a gift. I gave some, her husband Gunnery Sergeant James Gallagher, gave all. I felt quite humbled as her tears fell upon me as she held my hand. Mary must have felt we did all this for her and the Gunny. All I wanted was an evening where the citizen and those who served could informally celebrate each other and really appreciate what it is to be American.

I didn’t stay long after the last toast. My heart was loaded, not my snout. I sat up the rest of the night looking at the picture of my late wife standing under the name of my cousin, engraved on the Vietnam Memorial (AKA- The Wall). Last year I was outraged, this year, I am humbled beyond my pitiful attempt to describe just how deeply I am moved.

DO THIS! Go to http://www.taps.org/ Please help support TAPS and other programs for the families of those who have died in the military by buying the Baghdad Bracelet to wear and, in the tradition of the Iraqi women, to share. Leave a donation no matter how small. If you can buy a drink you can help the widow of a fallen warrior, if you can park your ass on a bar stool then give your time, be a volunteer, give something.

This was a very different ‘Informal Toast’. I leave you only with these words from an Unknown Marine, “For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the protected will never know.”

A Change of Seasons

Fall, By The River

“What the fuck do you mean they can’t find him? ….He went where? Why? So let me get this straight, because of a so called alleged stain on his personal reputation, Bear goes off into the woods to meet up with the Militia to settle the matter, how? He had what? Who was he last seen with? Skippy…this can’t be good.”

Then I got an e-mail from NF. It was a message from Bear. I still had Star on the phone and read her the message. She was livid. There was only one way to unfuck this. “I know where he is going Star, I’m on the first thing smoking. I’ll be in Tennessee before the weekend.” Bear was going up to the old Church by the River. I had to get there to do two things. Attest to a mans honor and define to a fool what a ’cult ’ is.

Hill Folks don't like strangers, including Northerners, any ethnics, and most anyone not from the hills. Some so called 'hill folk' aint loved much either.

I did have a big problem being in the South during the week of a Presidential Election. If the South didn’t have enough tension the thought of a Black President was not reassuring in Bear’s part of the world. The fact that I had to travel in and around the Smokey Mountains did not make me feel real good at first.

I got into the backwoods town early enough to get some liquor, food and pick up some smokes for Star. I got to Bear’s when a pickup truck with a rebel flag pulled up behind me. It was Skippy. “Where the fuck is Bear, Deputy” “Up Yonder by the Old Church, get in we gotta ride” said Skippy as he opened the passenger door. I grabbed my Bible, jumped in and thought ‘what the fuck did I get into.’

At the old barn behind the Church near the River a lantern dimly lit the way. Skippy had his hand on his holster and said “go on in”. Bear and the Welder were working on something as the lathe stopped turning. “Hey Rev, glad to see you” said the Welder to me as he put down his torch. I shook hands with Bear, who looked at me and said “I should kill Benny for opening his nasty cock sucking mouth.”

“Later for that Bear, where is the congregation Welder?" “Down at the water line Rev…waiting for you.” So we left the barn, the Welder, Skippy, Bear and me. We met the ‘hill folk’ down at the waterline (right at the rivers edge). The brethren had surrounded Benny and started discussing how his night was going to go if the truth wasn’t told. In the dark cool night beneath the pines, I shouted “lets get on with this…what is the accusation?”


Ol’ Deak,(thin old man with a long grey beard) spoke up, “dat Benny boy accused Bear of being a ‘Heathen’ and a liar. Heathen, meaning not a worshiper of Jesus and a liar, in dat Bear didn’t keep his word regarding Benny's dwellin place.” I looked and asked, “is that right Benny?” “Yeah” said Benny in an effeminate whisper. What’s a Heathen Benny? “Somebody who doesn’t worship God.”

“Let me make this real plain Benny, if what you say is true these old boys and girls will never talk to Bear again and treat him like a stranger after all this time being a damn good neighbor. But if your not telling it right, you might not ever leave these woods…you understand the gravity of your situation. Do you?” “Oh God, help me” shouted Benny.


“Did Bear tell you that you could stay in his home for about two months, did he?” asked the Welder. “Yes, but I needed more time” whined Benny. “Bear gave you a month more, I was there when he did” said Bubba Ray as Skippy spit out some tobacco juice from the chaw of Red Man stuck in his jaw. “I had nowhere to go” said Benny.

“So you spread rumors about Bear to your congregation and Bear gets treated like shit because you fit your cock-sucking lips to spread a lie” said Skippy. The crowd of about 30 local souls murmured loudly, I spoke up before this went on to its apparent conclusion. “Lets all cool off and pipe down…Benny who told you that Bear was a Heathen?” “Rev, my Pastor did.” “Benny who told you that Bear doesn’t worship God?” Again Benny answered, “my Pastor.”

“Bear fed you when hungry, clothed you when you had nothing but work clothes and put a roof over your head…is that a Christian thing to do according to the Bible Benny? “Yes!” “Ok, Benny…you accuse Bear of not worshipping God because of your Pastor, did you ever see Bear pray in his house?” “Yes, at dinner most times but…”

“Shut up Benny, stop being a cult member and start thinking for yourself, if a man prays to God he is performing an act of worship. This crowd of hill folk are perplexed, they wonder if they should let a liar stay among them, or if they should let him float down the river….I’m not talking about Bear, I’m talking about you.” "What should happen to you Benny?” “I definitely shouldn’t die” said Benny. “Who said anything about being dead” I asked.

“Listen Benny, just as Cain was banished from Eden you must accept being banished from these hills. Also, tell all the folk the truth and admit your own sin and your own wrong doing. In this is forgiveness but not forgetness…but it will get your sorry ass out of these woods, right Skippy.” Skippy spit on the ground and said “Yep, it will do that.”

Benny’s mouth ran like an open sewer as he relayed what his so called Pastor and his cult told him to believe. Even though everyone got upset, they did forgive Benny and Skippy drove him to his car. Skippy told him it would be a good idea not to come round these hills for several years. I stayed with the crowd of hill folk as we passed the communion ball jar and the cracklins. It wasn’t the Eucharist, but it was shine and cornbread.

“Hey Rev, how you been son” said the Colonel,(Colonel Jeb Lee Davis, Attorney at Law) a tall stately man with a short white beard. “Fine Sir, I don’t understand why my presence was needed since you were in town.” "Rev,.. RJ….listen heah, there is much we can do and some thangs we caint, I did not want to get in the middle of this since my boy most likely would be the one to adjudicate the matter if anything happened to that effeminate cocksucker they call a man.”


The Welder said that “it’s a good thang you came on South...this could have been real bad given lots of the local ministers wouldn’t come up the hill and you’re the only one Bear and Skippy trust. Rev yur good people…hope you git to stay awhile.” Fall in the Smokey Mountain foothills of Tennessee is totally breathtaking. Being down by the river on a starry night, sippin shine with some good ole boys had me feeling fine.


At the time of this post, November 5th, Barak Obama was elected President of the United States. This state, Tennessee went 70% for McCain. I mention this because things are changing in America, even in Tennessee as we speak. As I sat with Bear after putting down a good dinner, we watched TV (down here no sex shows). As a result of a ballot issue two lesbians ran a very demonstrative infomercial on local TV about how their 'sex toys' worked.

God Bless America

Another Costume Party

Halloween at the "Lounge"

This is a post by Ruby

Edited by RJ

The 1st Halloween at the "Lounge". Wow!! That's what I've been hearing about Mr. E's party.

For me however, it was an exciting mix of cleaning everything possible in the bar as best as I could (OCD is somewhat useful sometimes) putting up some of the decorations with Mr. E (I had fun, especially with the back room, the black lights made the glow in the dark stuff look great), and making sure that the bartenders that worked had everything they could possibly need at hand.

The DJ arrived around the time my relief did and set himself up in the kitchen. Mr. E had it mostly cleaned out for them but he had to leave to take his kids trick-or-treating and then get ready for the party. Thankfully, due to his communicating to me what he wanted, I kind of had an idea what to do. Mr. E was satisfied with my efforts to help out. By around 8:00 some people started arriving. An hour later, the second bartender arrived.

Although I hadn't considered staying for the party and had no costume, Mr. E had previously asked me that day to stay and hang out. I was thinking about it when I realized that it was 9:00 and I had been at the bar working since 11:00 a.m. I guess at my age, exhaustion, both physical and mental, catch up with you at some time and that was my time.

On Monday morning (after the party) I walked into the bar and I just wanted to turn around, lock the door and leave. Of course I would never do this but the urge was there. And there I was, preparing this business to operate, it was unfit to sit in, let alone drink. I spent all day (again) cleaning, stocking and taking down Halloween decorations. I really had no customers but I got the place back to the way I left it on Friday.

OCD is a great tool to the anally obsessive but it is also a mindfucking burden due to the guilt I would have to deal with if I didn't look after 'bar logistics' (stocking, restocking, checking maintenance items, machinery, games and cleaning.)

That being said when my Monday night relief came in (she worked the party) and told me how crowded it was and how much fun everyone had. I'm glad everyone had fun, there were no problems and the bar made some money. Maybe one of these days I'll share in the abundance. Until then I will do what I do to help my boss and fellow employees during special events.

Its great when things work out for those special events but even more important to keep our regulars happy. Our 'regulars' need a place where they feel relaxed and comfortable, a place they can bring their buddies. With that said I hope that I can get some cooperation from them for a very special upcoming event that RJ and I have really worked hard at promoting........Monday, November 10th - the 233rd Marine Corps Birthday/Veterans Day tribute.

This is going to be a wonderful celebration, an event to honor our Veterans of War, POW's, fallen soldiers and all branches of the Armed Services. Most of all it is an observance of the Marine Corps Birthday. I hope to do this respectfully and with class. I've invited as many people as I could find, a lot of older Veterans and their families and would like to pay tribute to them with a bit of dignity involved.

They need to know that they have our respect and thanks for all that they have done for this country. Without them where would we be? So, as a favor to the bar owner, employees and the many patrons who are Veterans, let's not get stupid. After RJ presentsthe ceremony for our warriors, Veterans, POW/MIA's and the fallen, we can cut loose and party. I hope to see everyone, including civilians, that are aware of this event there.

Take Care All

Ruby

Occupational Hazzards

This is a post by Ruby

Between me trying to get into the new space, I've not been concentrating on the drama going on at the bar.

A few weeks ago we got robbed. I don't remember writing about it so here it is: Three Hispanic men came into the bar while I was covering for Stephanie for a few hours. During this time, Janet from another planet was there with the Doc and a few others. The 3 men ordered 2 shots of Hennessy. Two were tall, one was short. One of the taller men was very polite to me, the other taller man was chatty.

The shorter man didn't drink anything. Oh, and the polite one had blue eyes. Anyway, in the chaos which was Janet, I didn't see the 3 men at the Poker machine and the last thing on my mind was that they were robbing it. What's done is done, I dropped the ball and got reamed for it. They stole a lot of money, not only from us but from other bars too. That happened around 2-3 weeks ago.

Fast forward to this week: (Monday ? Who remembers when every day is the same?)
Limpin Pimp was talking smack about the Lounge to certain people and Mr. E mentioned it to me. (I'm positive that Pimp was drunk as usual and does not remember saying these business ruining things) but I agreed to confront Pimp first since I know his game and he actually got in my face, demanded to know who said that he said these things (I didn't know at the time) and basically told me (not outloud) or mouthed for me to go f*** myself and to s*** his d***. How rudely polite of him , don't you think?

Needless to say, we haven't seen him since. Oh, well. Maybe since he isn't welcomed at any of the bars around (I forgot to say that he and Shelley just had it out before he came to the Lounge. She told him to shut up and he went nuts so she ousted him from her place and he came to ours), he'll realize the damage he does with his filthy mouth. Probably not due to over drinking and being such a girl that he needs to talk about other people's business.

Fast forward to today: (Wednesday, 10/29/08)
The robbers previously mentioned came back. Mr. E was in, thankfully. When I realized who they were (only 2 came in, the blue eyed one and the short one), I asked Mr. E if he knew them. He said he didn't. When the blue eyed one ordered the shot of Hennessey that was it for me. I told Mr. E to stick around because I knew it was them. The short one noticed the cameras, the blue eyed one was not smiling this time and I'm guessing that the chatty one was in the car.

They both had a sip of the shot, made Mr. E as one of "dos hermanos", then left after realizing that we were on to them. (Funny, blue eyes tipped me a dollar for the six dollar shot he took one sip out of). Stupid. Same drink order, same two men sipping from one shot glass, and the little one looking around and noticing that the cameras were present.

So, you would think that after a few bars being robbed that the police would at least be interested in the shot glass that had my fingerprints and the prints of the larcenists? Or even the security disc that recorded their faces? Not a chance. Mr. E took the old, smelly, year from retirement police officer [still?] (complete with a thick file of, and I'm just guessing, unsolved robbery cases) down to look at the security tapes.

He didn't even take a statement from me and told us that if they came back to tell them that they were not welcome and to kick them out. Duh...how's about a little mace in the face or my favorite, "Mr. Stun Gun". Like I'm going to take another chance (what if I was alone?) and let them stab me for some Joker Poker money.

THE 4TH PRECINCT RULES!! THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP. WE REALLY APPRECIATE IT. NOW TAKE YOUR PAY CUT AND LIKE IT. Nobody got killed, but seriously, do something before someone does. (I saved the shot glass carefully (CSI like) and will be giving it to another precinct for printing since the only crime that counts in the 5 towns is homicide) Useless and lazy we can do without. Have a donut and relax guys. We've got it.

During the time that I wasn't giving a statement, my name or anything that would help build a case against these people, I called another bartender who in turn passed on this information to every bar from Inwood to Lynbrook . If security pictures and fingerprints are not enough to interest law enforcement in the area then we'll all go over their heads before one of us gets killed. Or there will be a few messed up thieves laying in the street somewhere.

There is other information regarding a certain person who was seen with these 3. (Hint: A recently hired and fired bartender from a certain establishment which shall remain unnamed, for now).

More drama to follow, I'm sure of it.

Reflecting on a Roast and a Man

For The Sake Of Love

What can I say, it was a beautiful Sunday Afternoon, the day was meant for a storybook, better yet for a community of bikers, neighbors, old school buddies, Veterans, old timers, rockers and bar hoppers to get together for a good cause. I got to St. Stephens late in the afternoon, around 4:30 pm. Still, their was no place to park within 100 ft of the place. Bikes lined the side walk around the side street and part of the front of St. Stephens Bar.

I could smell the pig walking up St. Stephens Street, that bacon, pork chop and pork fat smell was all in the air. As I approached the mob of bikers, friends and beautiful people I found familiar faces all over. Mr. E. was their with one of his bartenders, Ruby and Shelly had just left. I shook hands and greeted all the folks from when “Cheers” was the place to hang. I saw Hildy, Biker Bob, Ilsa, (I just missed Googs) and too many others to mention. Let me get to the reason for the meeting.


As I walked upon the pig I noticed that a mob, (150-200 people when I showed up) everybody was eating something. For those who would not snack on swine there was hot dogs, burgers and other goodies. When I met up with Breezy he was checking in on everyone seeing that all were having a good time.

I asked Breezy about the Toys For Tots Ride and how it went. Breezy said, “It was supposed to take off at 10:00 in the morning, but the kids were all wound up and the cops wanted us to wait until 12:00…it was great.” Dozens upon dozens of bikers on bikes riding for the cause of Toys For Tots sponsored by the Marine Corps…the descriptions I got from bikers who participated portrayed it as nothing less than inspirational.

Then the music caught my ear, I knew I had heard that sound before, I had to check it out. That’s right up till now I had not even been able to get inside the bar. Inside was the Rock Cover Band “GENERATIONS”. Laying down the sound, rocking the bar, the street and the neighborhood with solid, no bull, hardcore rock and roll that got you on your feet and had you screaming.



GENERATIONS covered the Doobie Brothers, the Doors, Steppenwolf, Deep Purple and Jethro Tull to name a few. I saw Generations about a year ago at BRONKOS in Baldwin. But this time the band had something different, a female lead singer who looks just like Tina Turner did in her 30’s (not much different from right now). She belted out the rock driven soul tune with passion and fire. (All the guys were stuck to the floor with their mouths hanging open).

As I ordered my second beer, I caught up with Dennis an old friend from the old school. We covered some ground when we got to the subject of Anthony Esposito. After that talk I had a deep bittersweet feeling of awe. A community came out to celebrate the life of a man who worked hard, loved and supported his family and had reached his immediate world in such a way that world reached out for his family.

I hunted down the man with the donation box and threw in what I had. I know what a family goes through when it looses ‘Daddy’ or a wife looses her love, her heart and the joy in her life. I caught up with Breezy again as I headed for the door. I then checked out the tribute that was on the table in one of the booths. When I saw the picture of Anthony Esposito, it rattled me.

Breezy patted me on the shoulder and moved on. The photo was a perfect image of Breezy but it was Anthony. This is the beginning of a long time of hurting for the family of Anthony Esposito. That Sunday we celebrated Anthony’s life, from hear out the community that came together for the pig should stay together to wipe the tears.



The sting in my gut that moved me to tears after being thanked by family and friends was the WORD. In my soul I could hear and see the old Black Bishop with his robe flowing as he quoted the WORD of GOD,… “Better to go to the house of mourning Than to go to the house of feasting, For that is the end of all men; And the living will take it to heart.” (Ecc. 7:2)



Peace

RJ

Looking Back & Forward - Rise of the Lounge

Better Than Ever

A Post By Ruby

White roses can mean many things to many different people. They can symbolize new beginnings, or be a sign of farewell. They can convey feelings of love, friendship, respect and hope.
Edited by RJ
Commentary by RJ

Thankfully (finally), all of Mr. E's hard work and the dedication of this loyal staff has seemed to pay off. Not to disregard the economic condition of our country and our president's nervous and panicked look while trying to reassure us that everything is going to be alright (his eyes seem to be getting closer together every time he speaks to the nation [bad liar?] and we all can sense something is wrong and he feels guilty about it).

When the first week of panic ended (Monday, Columbus Day), business at the Lounge was looking up. Monday (Columbus Day), the day business was showing a little bit of progress. Tuesday and Wednesday were not awful either. Thursday was the breakthrough we needed (my best day ever since the old owner sold the Tavern). Finally, we broke over instead of being minus (embarrassing and depressing to show a negative $4.00 to your boss and barely making shift pay).

Monday, thanks to the holiday and "Dino", we didn't do half bad. "Dino" also hung out on Wednesday and spent a lot of cash, bought the bar a few rounds and although he got a bit drunk and pissed off at "Evie", he did not pick up the pool table (of course I caught that moment and forbade him to do it, and he listened, thankfully).

I had to speak to RJ about Thursday. This day was tough for me emotionally. Thursday, 5 firemen from Brooklyn came in early (after a funeral of one of their fallen 9/11 brothers sons who passed due to cancer [RIP] at a very young age) to drink beer and toast both father and son. A sad day for them, but I had mixed feelings, I was glad to be there for them even in my non-significant role as bartender. I hurt for them, I didn’t quite know how to feel. RJ reflected on this when I spoke to him, of course he got kind of deep.

“The Church and the Bar are the first and last refuge for hurting hearts and not necessarily in that order. The bar is where some come to sit quietly and calmly float away in their beer. Some bring friends to share their pain and grief, no matter how proper, decent, comforting or righteous the ‘religious ceremony’ was for the departed. The bar is where quite a few tortured, grief scalded souls end up.

Having a bartender who understands that can be a good thing for the bar and the patrons, for the patrons in feeling comfortable to grieve with friends and strangers, for the bar in providing sensitivity and empathy enough to be a place where more patrons stay and buy drinks.”

“The ‘Lounge’ should never use someone’s grief as a means to seek a profit opportunity, but a sharp bartender should make every effort to make the hurting feel like the ‘Lounge’ is their place and to encourage other patrons to be supportive. It starts and ends with the bartender. Back in 2002 Bear had a night where a few bikers came to drink to their departed friend. Bear made them feel like they were his family. Before you knew it the place was jammed and stayed that way all night. Bear rang up nearly two grand for the bar.” “Kindness and Empathy are assets to a good bartender” said RJ.

Two other people came in, one an older woman bartender from Freeport's Nautical Mile and her perverted older gentleman (?) friend, very nice, down to earth people. Then there were two younger people from Lindenhurst and a bunch of other people I have never seen before, not to mention all my regular customers who were there. If ever there was a time that I needed reassurance, Thursday pulled through for me. Friday, although busy early in the day, was only okay. I know this was because I was busy for four days before, moving quickly and thriving on it.

Given the way things have been I wasn't feeling very wanted lately but, "Que Sera, Sera". I am a loyal, honest, team player for Mr. E, and he appreciates it. I'm not just all about the "Benjamins", success is prosperity for the boss and the bartender. Given the turn in business and the growing clientele, the return of the regulars and the new attitude from the change in the scenery and feel of the ‘Lounge’, I am seeing that things really are ‘better than ever’.

From RJ:
For the 'Lounge' its a time of new beginnings but this is still a place where we don't forget those who have gone from time or support friends and neighbors when they are down. I hope for all of us 'Lounge' goers things get 'better than ever.'


Love!

Bear On Religion

BEAR vs Bullsh*t

"Let me get this straight Benny...you don't have to be straight or have a wife because Jesus died for your sins and accepts you the way you are, right?" Bear looked at Benny from across the table staring out of the ornate window of the old Bar in the Backwoods of Tennessee. Benny said, "Well, my Pastor told me that God accepts me for who I am, and I'm gay."

"Is your Pastor fucking you in the ass? What religion are you involved in? I wanna know if I have a cult member living in my house," said Bear rolling his cigar around in his mouth. "You have a gay man living in your house who has found Jesus, halalujah..." Benny turned his wrist down and waved his head back and forth, before he could say another word Bear said, "I hope Jesus finds you another house to live in, I don't care what Star says...YOUR OUT OF MY HOUSE."

"God doesn't like ugly Bear." "SHUT UP AND LISTEN, you don't know what God likes because if God doesn't like ugly he sure as hell can't accept you." “Benny, I don’t know how the fuck you think you can impose your new beliefs on me, in my house when you don’t know what the fuck you believe yourself, you make no sense.”

“Bear its not about sense, its about faith, the end of the world is coming soon and when Jesus gets here non-believers like you are gonna go straight to hell.” “Really, based on what, tell me Benny?” “Based on the Bible Bear….” “STOP RIGHT FUCKING NOW! Show me where it says in the Bible I’m a non-believer, you don’t know what I believe…show me where it says in the Bible I’m going to hell.”

“Well, I’m new to my faith, but my Pastor says….” “STOP. I gotta get out of here before I leave you for dead.” Bear paid his tab and started for the door when Benny burst into tears. The barmaid looked over at Bear and Benny and assumed they were a couple breaking up. “Yall havin a lovers quarrel." Bear said “I’m no fudge packer and this faggot can cry in his beer, I’ll be outside waiting for Skippy.” (Skippy is the local Deputy Sheriff).

“Sugar you ought not leave that sweet little man all broke up like that, what would Jesus do?” The bartender, a redneck milf looked at Bear with a plea of compassion in her eyes. Bear was in the twilight zone and he knew it. He is in the backwoods of the deep south, in a redneck bar, talking to a gay black man who fell on hard times, that is living in his house because Bear’s wife wants to help him. Now he is in a discussion about ‘religion’ in an empty bar with the same queer.

Bear was loud, clear and steady, “First off, to discuss the Bible you need to know what’s in it not what someone tells you what’s in it. Next, who is this ‘Pastor’ that’s telling you the end of the world is in a few weeks or months and to sell your possessions and give him the money? Did you ask where he went to theology school, what faith he professes, who ordained that minister? Did you Benny? “

“No! He must be a minister, he has a Bible, stands in the Pulpit, and has a black robe…” “Benny, listen! Listen real good, shut your mouth and listen. How is it a man you assume is a Pastor, a minister of God would advise you to judge anyone? Next, think about this, somebody tells you not to pay your rent, not to pay your bills, but to bring your living to his so called ‘Church’ and disregard the people you are in debt to. Is that a Christian thing to do?”

The bartender had brought Bears tonic water to the table and brought Benny a beer. By now Skippy showed up in his Sheriff’s car and found a place to sit down and listened as Bear continued to go off. “Now Benny, doesn’t it say in the Bible that homosexuality is a sin and those that are faggots will die in their sin.?” “My Pastor would have told us if that was in the Bible, Bear…so its not.” “It is too faggot, Romans 1:18-32” said Bear. Benny eyes rattled.



“Oh yeah Benny, I know that lowlife Jackleg womanizing sodomite you call a Pastor, I also know something about the Bible because I have a real good spiritual advisor. Let me get to the point real quick so your ignorant fag ass can see clearly. You are the sinner living in sin, so am I, but I put a roof over your head, feed you when your hungry, encourage you when you get upset and give you good advise about how to get your life unfucked.”

Skippy was joined in the bar by his brother, Bubba Ray as Bear now broke into a sermon. “Charity begins at home Benny. I don’t know all the details of your fucked up life, but we swung open the door to our home and helped you out because everyone in this community would shoot you just as soon look at you because of your homo queer assed life. Charity is doing right by the suffering and lowly not out of pity but because it’s the most right thing to do.”

Bear fired up his cigar and took a long drag. Benny was about to open his mouth when Bear again said, “I’m not finished faggot…I don’t like the way you live, I don’t like the way you act, I don’t like the things you say and I don’t like the so called Church you go to…but I will help you live the way you want because you are an American living in America. Maybe my example will encourage you to give up your deviate fudge packing ways and get a woman. That’s what Jesus would do. Wouldn’t he?”

Bubba Ray shouted “Hell Yeah”. “Amen, Amen, Amen, Hallelujah, proclaimed the bartender. Benny blushed in shame and said he would meet Bear at his house after work and start moving out. Bear said, “You got a month, also go to Churches where the Minister is a man of God and not an ex-con looking to screw anything that walks into his so called Church. Benny’s face lost color as he covered his mouth (his ‘Pastor had sex with him). Bear left with Skippy and Bubba Ray.

Bear got on the phone and recounted this incident to me after he and Star did some talking. “I can’t believe he is so gullible, so ignorant, RJ, why do people fall for the shit dished out by so called Ministers who are just con-men, crooks and scumbags?” “Bear, when a life comes apart people will fall into all kinds of trouble, and find themselves under the spell of someone or group who tells them what they want to hear but do things to entrap them into living a lie.”

“RJ, what do you think about this?” “Well Bear, lets see, you and your wife, former New Yorkers are harboring an admitted homosexual who is involved in a cult, which came after living with a big fat sex addicted white woman who had orgies on a regular basis. Benny, a gay little black guy, was found standing over that same white woman who was covered in semen by several black men, this gay fool got himself laid out in the street by the Sheriff and kicked out of his trailer. With all the 'righteous folk' in his world you took him in Bear.” “What’s your point RJ?

“From the outside looking in this is weird shit Bear, none of the “Church People” helped him but the heathens from New York did. You may damn sure hate gays, homo’s, faggots and fudge packers of all types but you need to find a better way to show it. You don’t want anybody down here mistaking you for a “Christian” do you?” “Eat me RJ.” “Be careful Bear…its rubbing off.”



RJ

A Shout Out to An Old Time Technician

Richie the Kraut

This is a post by Ruby

The Staff
and Patrons
of the "Broadway Lounge" would like to show our appreciation and thank Richie "The Kraut" for his knowledge of refrigeration. Believe it or not, this guy is a genius. He has to be if he could repair the mess that Mr. E acquired with the purchase of the bar.

Just for props he does repairs on the following:



Refrigeration
Draft Beer Systems
A/C
Restaurant Equipment
Walk-in Coolers
Freezers
Deli & Pizza Equipment
and
Solar Energy Systems

His company name is "Universal Repair Service" and he does repairs 24/7 (if he's able)
The phone number for repair is (516) 859-1959

If he could fix the "Ancient Dives" draft beer & refrigeration mess, well, need we say more?

Thanks Again Richie

Now and Then - A Before & After

This is a post by Ruby

Before, during and until the present I had been taking pictures of the improvements that Mr. E has made to the "Lounge" . I know I had mentioned certain upgrades that were made recently, but when you see the photos you will realize how much time, effort and money he has put into this place to make it more comfortable for all his patrons.

The above picture is the "old pool table" left by the former owner(s) before the renovation. The below picture is the new pool table (new slate, new bumpers, new neon blue felt).


Also the whole north wall of the bar has new brickface and the bars walls have been repainted and worked on. Mr. E. has found about 15 square feet of new bar space on the south wall, stained and varnished to preserve the early 50's feel of the bar in a new 'retro' kind of way. Below is how the establishment looked after it was stripped bare by the departing ownership.



The green walls are gone and the new look is a base beige that brings light and life into the new Lounge as you can see in the picture below.


(An old WW2 Veteran having a brew and enjoying one of the new flat screen video screens in the bar)

Two new flat screen TV's have been put in the bar, new stools for a more comfortable stay, and a complete new tap system that no longer dispenses stale beer are among some of the new improvements that have taken place. The Lounge is now a solid three star drinking establishment.




Beyond the pool table, the area that was formerly used for video games (now up front and more accessable to all) is a video smoking / seating area, a flat screen will go there also.

The floors are still being worked on and will soon lend to the new mood already affected by the changes. More changes to come. I'd like to add that when I open the door every morning and see the difference in the appearance of the bar I feel very proud to work there.

The new Lotto Machines and the Quick Draw are not only bringing a new daily clientele but all the permanent bar tenders know how to use the new machines and allow you to purchase lottery tickets along with your favorite ice cold brew.

Instead of a jumbled mass of chaotic crap covering the green wood walls that was previously displayed by the old owner, we can see and experience neatness and order. No more sensory overload of unmatched junk taking up every inch possible. Now it's a pleasant and calm atmosphere of well placed items of interest that actually have a theme that a bar should have.

Props to the owner, Mr. E - it took a while and a few kicks in the butt, yet it's coming together nicely. Keep up the good work and success is yours. Proud of you boss, you're doing a great job.

Some American History - FYI

Well, Well, Well, somebody out there actually reads this blog. I always thought the audience that brought up this blog did it for the pictures (some of my fellow contributors believe that some of our readers may be illiterate and/or ignorant) but I think now is a great time for some very brief American History as it regards the most phenomenal Combined Arms Force in the History of Humankind, the UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS.

The Second Continental Congress was formed on May 10, 1775 to deal with the tyranny of the British Government in the American Colonies. Communication with the British was going nowhere fast. In fact the war with the British had begun, the American Revolution had already started with the Battles of Lexington and Concord. It was this Congress that oversaw the war and became the foundation of the Government of the United States.

That Congress appointed one of its members, George Washington of Virginia, General of the Continental Army. The revolution up until the autumn of 1775 was run in an ad-hoc half assed manner. The Congress (after Washington brought it up) had no powder, rifles, munition or other basics an Army would need to fight a war.

So Congress on 10 November 1775 appointed Robert Mullan, the proprietor of Tun Tavern and son of Peggy Mullan, to raise the first two battalions of Marines, under the leadership of Samuel Nicholas, the first appointed Commandant of the Continental Marines. Recruiting for the Marines took place at Tun Tavern, the best men with weapons, sea experience and aggresiveness were accepted.

(Rumors have it men were made drunk, rolled and beaten then put in a boat. When they woke from their head throbbing drunken stupors they were informed they were now 'Marines'....not much different than today) The Marine raid on Nassau in the Bahamas was the first amphibious raid by the Marines and it was a success that has gone down in the history of Naval Warfare.




Major Nicholas took his 234 Marines under sail from our Navy (formed after the Marines) capturing the Fort at Nassau within minutes and securing tons of gunpowder, cannon and other munitions for General George Washington's war effort in the Colonies. The rest is history. Wish they taught it to you in school.

This country as we know it may not have existed if a few bargoing men, good men, hard fighting men, did not go to sea to conquer a strategic and tactical post of the British Empire. All of us who are Marines take our service and responsibility as the First Sons and Daughters of Americas Warrior class seriously and with honor. We take our Citizenship as Americans just as seriously.

We are and forever will be "Semper Fidelis" (that is "Always Faithful)

RJ

References: Encyclopaedia Brittanica, www.marines.com, USMC - A Complete History, Colonel Jon T. Hoffman, USMCR, Editor

For You Who can't read or have this blog read to you, I include the following treat



And check this out!



Enjoy the history lesson and tell someone where you saw this if you can't e-mail the URL (the thing that starts "http://")

Semper Fidelis