Stinking Thinking & The Closed Mind

I’ve gone to the dive on Friday’s and/or Sunday’s for the last two or three weeks and I am always forced to tolerate the same closed mindset each and every week. This doesn’t just come from the patrons, some owners blame the patrons for the way they run their establishments, its not just the bartenders either who struggle to get through the shift with as little drama as possible.

It is on the owner(s) to find the leadership (not dictatorship) to run their business venture in such a way to bring a kind of vibe or life that puts customers in the chairs and to keep those customers coming back. The closed mindset reveals itself in little ways that have a big effect. When I walk into a bar and get greeted with a stare instead of a smile it effects the rest of my stay. When I walk into a bar and some loudmouth is spewing obscenities and filth faster than a sewage pipe, it gets me thinking, why stay?

I have often gone to the dive on major sporting events to find that the only thing to eat (on those occasions something is there) is stale corn chips or potato chips and month old pretzels. I got to speaking to one of the old regulars who has lived in the neighborhood for decades. He told me back when the dive was the “Beverly”, there was always something going on, the bar was tied to the community.

Parades started at the Beverly’, after meeting meetings of the VFW, American Legion, Elks and other civic groups found their way to what is referred to as "1762". It was a place where there was a lot of participation from the patrons who made it their place to go. I was struck in my last several trips to the dive by how empty I felt being there. Not just a lack of food, not just the lack of beer, not just the lack of life, but the helpless ‘who gives a fuck’ feeling you get from everybody.

I almost started to believe that all bars are about the same. I had to be somewhere else to see the difference, small things that have a big impact. Going to someplace that smells clean and being greeted with a smile despite my lack of a smile. Also, being asked what I would like to have and the bartender actually having it there at the bar. Having people who are intelligent and articulate to have pleasant conversation with, this is a positive thing to me.

I noticed at the dive that most of the old crew don’t come around as often as they once did. The old crew doesn’t stay as long either. It took being somewhere else to see the reason why. I’ll hit only a few items on my long list; at other bars there are menu’s on the bar, not just the bars kitchen, but local restaurants, attentive bartenders, a stocked bar with all kinds of beer. I asked a bartender at the dive if there are any ale’s in the bar, she said “WHAT?”

I cannot get served a black and tan (Bass or other Ale with Guiness) in the dive, the last time I did was in June of 2007. Why, one reason people go to a bar is to get a drink, they have a taste for that they don’t want to go home to get. But what’s missing is a rallying point, a sense of community. I will illustrate as clearly as my limited word skills will allow.

During this past football season, there was no bar sponsored sport related activities. Most bars had “boxes” you could purchase to have a chance at a prize. 16 games, not one bar sponsored event. At Bronkos in Baldwin as with other Bars, Good Times in Freeport, and a few in Valley Stream all have some kind of real food out during a sporting event, I know, I call and I ask and occasionally go. The dive has never done this in 2007 to my knowledge.

But what got me about the Superbowl boxes sold at Bronkos is that the proceeds are going to help a little kid with cancer or some terrible disease. Saturday Night at Bronkos a bar band will be playing there live. There is so much going on at these neighborhood bars and grills that invite people in, that its nice to get out to experience it. That is what is needed at the dive, maybe someday it will be something other than an ‘ancient dive’.

I called Friday Night to see if something is going on Sunday for the Playoffs. Gin had no idea. Yaega Lee was in the bar, she said absolutely not, unless she put out her own money to get something going or the crowd buys their own. The Beverly was an establishment run like a business in the community, where the business owners ran the establishment with class and modesty, appealing to the decent clientele in the neighborhood, not tokers in the alley.

The dive, kind of feels like its run like a tenement in the Bronx, run by a Kansas City pimp who picks up his money in an alleyway. So you ask, “Why the fuck don’t you stay the hell out?” And there is the question put by the CLOSED MIND. There is the stinking attitude born of a toxic environment. I show up every once in a while to support the bartenders I have known over years or who have been nice to me and treated me like I belong there.

I’ll be there Sunday for the playoffs, if there is no ale, I’ll bring my own, if there is no food, I’ll find some to share with we few old regulars, so long ago forgotten.

Gods Peace

RJ

Other Places

Hey 1762ers

In keeping with RJ's recent theme in his posts, I too have been imbibing intoxicants in establishments outside the confines of 1762.

I actually met with a few regulars of 1762 at an undisclosed location one night last week. They played good music that was free. They had every beer that we asked for. And all of them were cold. The bathrooms were reasonably clean. They served delicious food. There was eye candy.
What's the catch you might ask? Well, I did notice that the Heineken's were $5 instead of the Tavern's $4.75.

Oh, RJ, I also learned that night that the Beck's that you settled on after ordering a half dozen or so brands of beer that were Out of Stock, was in fact NON-ALCOHOLIC!!!

I am not trying to slay the tavern with this post, but it is s breath of fresh air to step outside sometimes.

Bartenders: Performing a Threeway Service

I went to Bronkos at the end of the week to visit “G”. I had visited a few doctors and dealt with some other business that left me burnt out. So I figured I’d go to a place that I could mellow out.

Sure enough, the place was clean as usual and “G” was looking her usual self (damn good). The place was half full and the Government worker crowd was about an hour away. I ordered a beer and asked about other beers. “G” had them all in stock. Nirvana? For that moment, yeah.

Now every bar has its moments and I was about to witness one that got me to thinking about something called “integrity”. “G” had a female customer, a blonde in her late 40’s in a patterned shirt, pink sweater and deerskin boots. She wasn’t loud but she was definitely floating on whatever she was drinking. “G” asked her if she was alright, she replied “Oh Yeah” I’m fine.” Two minuets later she leaned back passed out on her stool and crashed to the deck.

Her spilled drink was all over the floor, it took three men and one woman to get her up on her stool. “G” cut her ass off immediately and asked her if she wanted a cab. “I’ll take the bus.” Bitch couldn’t walk but wobbled like a ‘weeble’. (Kiddy commercial from the 70’s ‘weebles wobble but they don’t fall down) Bitch asked for another drink. “G” said, “No booze, seltzer, soda or water but no booze…your cut off.”

When the bitch hit the deck a woman came from the back with her head wrapped in a scarf, wearing overalls and an oversize flannel shirt, I didn’t recognize her at first but it was “Bosslady”. Bitch yelled and screamed and threatened “G” with violence. This was met with a round of jeering and counter threats from the easy going crowd that just turned into a mob. “G” was calming the crowd when the drunken Bitch threatened to call the cops on “G” if not served.

Bosslady came from the back and watched as “G” recited the number to the 1st Precinct to the Bitch who was too drunk to use her cell phone. “If you don’t serve me a drink I’ll leave a note for your boss.” Bosslady spoke, “No note needed, I saw everything and I also reviewed the video, did you have a complaint.” “Bartender won’t serve me, I want a drink,” said the Bitch.

Bosslady said “The bartender is responsible to the bar, the customer and the community, my bartender is exercising that responsibility…be nice like my bartender and leave.” The bitch staggered out the door swearing to call the cops. She staggered into the Nassau County Patrol car that had just pulled up. Bosslady had called the cops while reviewing tapes in the office. Bitch was escorted to a bus stop where she promptly boarded the first bus at the curb.

I have seen much bullshit in bars. I have often seen or heard of Owners trying to kiss the drunkards ass instead of backing their bartender. This was a first for me, an owner who unconditionally backed her bartender without hesitation or any purpose of evasion. The Bosslady even asked how she could help her Bartender, “G” with the incoming crowd while she, the boss, was setting up for a party. That bar is run like a tactical unit.

It made me feel good to be there, even after the drama. Bosslady gave a round to the house for backing up her bartender.



I thought about something that happened at the dive in the no so distant past. Some bartenders aren’t so lucky, some bartenders don’t have an owner who looks out for them. Some bartenders get cursed out, derided, humiliated, insulted, robbed, beaten and some get raped or killed. Here in the dive back in August 2007 an incident took place between a bartender and a patron. Even if you believed that a bartender is an asshole or slow to serve, it isn’t your right to abuse them.

To take a quote from a blog entry back in August 16th, 2007, Titled “When Dino Attacks”, by SD, “The point here is that a guy of character, while engaged in the performance of his dutiful employment, was subjected to a physical assault upon his person by a regular patron of the bar. What justification could there be for this? Is this acceptable behavior for 1762 Broadway?”

That brings me forward to the recent past, when I saw Shelly have to square away an asshole or two on a Saturday Night in December last. What happens if there are no regulars around to look after a bartender or the regulars can’t stop the shit from hitting the fan and a bartender gets hurt? I’m quite sure the health care plan offered by the Owners will take care of all medical costs and mental health treatment. I have other fantasies too. (Bartenders shift pay is often not quite minimum wage)

We, who frequent bars are often in moods that range from ecstasy to grief, from elation to aggravation, from mellow to vicious and all things in between, often we don’t care about anything but a drink. But we do not have the right to treat our bartenders like slave wenches on a porn barge. If ever a bartender does anything that would cause you to think about assaulting them, do find a way out of the door and stay out. The crowd probably doesn’t want you around anyway.

If you ever get denied service by a bartender, stay as pissed off as long as you want, but thank them for looking out for your miserable life. I can only hope bar owners protect their bartenders by penalizing ignorant customers and backing the bartenders play. Integrity at work is not just a bartender who stands up for right, but a bar owner that will back the bartender all the way.

Drink safely, be responsible and be considerate. Nobody wants to bury your ass.

Love

RJ

Hot Sauce in my Penis Head?

No oral for me thanks.

The Age of the Expanding Ass

In an earlier blog (Polyglot at the Horse – October 5, 2007) I spoke of a bar I called the “Horse”. That bar is in actuality “Bronkos” in Baldwin. The bartender I spoke of “G”, I will still refer to as “G”. I was in Bronkos this week, what day …I won’t tell. But I think you should know about some of what went on there this one day, it got me to thinking about a real health problem.

“G” the ultimate MILF maid was behind the bar and it was nearing the end of the day. The old regulars packed the place as usual and the banter, often adult and vivid (though not raunchy) was often aimed at “G” she shoots back usually causing the old boys to blush or back-off. All the men in Bronkos during the day range from early 20’s to early 80’s. Everybody is good natured and minds their manners “BossLady”, the owner is a hot showstopper herself.

“G” asked me how I was and how the new year started. We talked between her fetching beer and cooking up burgers, wings, onion rings and other goodies. When she got a moment she started to ask me a question when one of the Town Employees screamed, “I’m dyin’ of thirst down here, any beer in those taps.” Her head snapped, her lazer beam eyes locked on him and asked “which one the right or the left” as she pointed at her tits.

Drooling on the bar, the Town Employees said grinning, “WHATEVER”. “G” quickly poured the beer and got back to our conversation. “How is M.F.” (Met Fan) “G” asked. He’s doing alright I guess. “How is he looking these days”. “Well, I guess we all kind of look like our parents…we’re all a little heavy except you “G”. You look real, real good.” “How much weight RJ?” I was stunned at the question. “A Bit.” I said.

“Is that why he won’t see me, is he embarrassed about how he looks?” “G”, I don’t know. She walked off to handle cooking, cleaning up the bar and serving beer with easy effort and got back to me after handing out some lotto tickets. “G” stared my down saying, “I think that’s the beginning of the end. When you don’t have confidence in you anymore you quit and die.” Wow.

I started to look around the bar and noticed that almost all the men in the bar were overweight. Old, young, employed, unemployed, smokers and non-smokers all had some extra weight on them. Myself included. We have become a nation full of heavy people. Even the two women who were in Bronkos at the time were carrying some extra weight in the trunk and on the gut.

Then I thought about the dive and its clientele of big women and fat guys and it struck me that the VA put me on a program that I must attend called “MOVE”. That’s right, some nutritionist said I’m overweight. Weight is a problem for our generation, a generation raised by the children of the Great Depression, a people Tom Brokaw called the Greatest Generation. We were raised to believe that food was an expression of love.

Less food may actually mean more love (well, at least more sex) if we can get the weight off our ass. A big ass may not be real sexy on some women. I don’t think many women find fat sexy on any man (unless that man has big money in his big wallet in his big ass back pocket). Here is some statistics on being overweight from the CDC (Center for Disease Control).

"Since the mid-seventies, the prevalence of overweight and obesity has increased sharply for both adults and children. Data from two NHANES surveys show that among adults aged 20–74 years the prevalence of obesity increased from 15.0% (in the 1976–1980 survey) to 32.9% (in the 2003–2004 survey). The two surveys also show increases in overweight among children and teens. For children aged 2–5 years, the prevalence of overweight increased from 5.0% to 13.9%; for those aged 6–11 years, prevalence increased from 6.5% to 18.8%; and for those aged 12–19 years, prevalence increased from 5.0% to 17.4%.
These increasing rates raise concern because of their implications for Americans’ health. Being overweight or obese increases the risk of many diseases and health conditions, including the following:
· Hypertension
· Dyslipidemia (for example, high total cholesterol or high levels of triglycerides)
· Type 2 diabetes
· Coronary heart disease
· Stroke
· Gallbladder disease
· Osteoarthritis
· Sleep apnea and respiratory problems
· Some cancers (endometrial, breast, and colon)
Although one of the national health objectives for the year 2010 is to reduce the prevalence of obesity among adults to less than 15%, current data indicate that the situation is worsening rather than improving."

For More Information go to http://www.cdc.gov/nccdphp/dnpa/obesity/defining.htm.

Without exercise and/or discipline, our asses will expand into oblivion. Although some people are at a disadvantage due to being injured or on really strong medication, the challenge is all the more daunting but even more necessary to confront and overcome. The easy answers are diet and exercise, the hard reality is diet and exercise. All doctors I spoke to said alcohol doesn’t help. Smoking is a short term solution that has a fatal conclusion.

So the end is if we keep doing what we’re doing someone will wheel our big fat drunken ass to the mortuary. Or one of the residual effects, cancers or diseases will leave us waiting for the Reaper as we try to suck oxygen into our useless lungs in the CCU. If this sounds like some alarmist bullshit to get you to think about your health you are half right. It is alarmist, its not bullshit. Just remember someone cared enough to say something.

I don’t know if the Met Fan will ever see “G”. I don’t know if he cares to see “G”. All I know is I saw a template for what a woman in her late 40’s ought to look like. I visit that template a little more regularly. (You can’t park anywhere around the dive during the day without getting a ticket) So, what will you do to loose your fat ass? Get pissed at me all you want, it doesn’t change the problem. I can dig you beautiful ladies even if there is less to dig.

Love

RJ.

PARANOIA: Is Somebody Watching Me?

Somehow the new year has brought some old fears. I came into the dive for the first time in the new year on Friday Night. Gin was behind the bar. The bar had a few regulars, Brad, Dino, and others greeted me and were really in a good mood. Candy was in the dive and she was her typically cheerful self. Gin was cordial but just a little worn down.

I asked for Miller in the bottle, “none in here”said Gin. Alright, I’ll go high end and order a Peroni, “none of that either”. O.K., I’ll have the Amstel, “NOPE” Gin said after searching for it. I said to Gin, “Apparently Bossman knew I was going to be here tonight and told you not to sell me any beer. What month last year did Bossman stock the bar?” After some laughing from the bar Gin said there was some Heineken Lights, so I started with that.

Gin seemed uneasy about my apparent disgust of having commented about the bar displaying beer it couldn’t sell. Everybody found a distraction, Candy, Gin and all the dart team was throwing darts. One by one the old crew faded out and the youngsters were in the bar. Gin’s friend the Mortgage Lady asked for a beverage. Of course it was not in stock, but on display. Gin was pissed because she could do nothing about it.

I asked her, why are you so uneasy, Gin told me why. I won’t go into detail about what she said but she thinks the dive can see us. I relaxed Gin and her friend by sharing my rock and roll dream. I spoke about a bar where the patrons bring their own liquor and share beverages with their friends, where bartenders were tipped because they were beautiful, not because there was beer. I spoke of a place where the music was rockin and everyone was totally cool.

I shared a vision of super shots and monster spirits in black cans. It was my dream, it was an awesome dream, to those who heard, it felt real. A dream deep inside, a dream so wild, if only the walls had eyes it would have seen the stares and the “amen’s” and sighs. If the walls had eyes, like, if the bar had beer, the dive itself would have had a good time. If only.

So I came back on Sunday, greeted ERL and Evie and other regulars, I found Yaega behind the bar, encouraging some new faces to come back. A small group of us were in the dive when the Giants beat Tampa Bay. I went down the list of beers with Yaega who said to me, “don’t even start, I’ll get what you had last night.” I said, “really.” “Don’t you know the dive ran out of that too.” I had Beck’s, it was the only beer left beside Corona’s.

Cary laughed so hard he wiped tears from his eyes after going through what looked like an Abbot and Costello routine between me and Yaega over the beer. Eventually Biker Bob came in and everyone had gone except Yaega, Biker Bob and me. I asked for change of a $20 and couldn’t help but notice the quick glance up done by Yaega. So I asked her, what are you lookin at? “The walls have eyes” said Yaega.

“Really Yaega.” “Really RJ”. “Like where?” (I asked because I was being nosey) Yaega mentioned a location I hadn’t considered. “The kitchen, your kidding Yaega” said Biker Bob.

“I’m not, and when I told one of the bartenders about it she freaked out because she thinks that no one should know how she likes to ‘have close up fun’.” Me and Biker Bob had the same thought and both mentioned the words internet and porn at the same time.

The dive started to fill up again so we decided to change the subject. The Met Fan, Hector and Ellie, Chucky, and a few others showed up just before Rhoda took the night shift. I stayed long enough to watch the Chargers beat the Titans. I will consider my first weekend at the dive in this new year. If the walls have eyes, I hope it can see the need for beer. If the dive can speak, I hope it tells Bossman that this is a bar and it would be nice to sell several brands of beer.

(I noticed the high tech jukebox finally has some Zeppelin on it) This week I will go to a bar where the bartenders have curvy hips, big tits, and serve cold beer of nearly all brands. A place where I don’t have to imagine, but drink my beer.

RJ.

1762 New Year Informational

We all have reasons for being at 1762. Some have reasons that involve being somewhere other than the ancient dive.

Some hope to be somewhere else with someone else doing those things not very openly discussed in an altered state of consciousness.




Consider the consequences of those actions that may alter the state of not just your being but another persons being.





Whatever your motive, whatever the end is, do get to the end. Enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness…whatever that persons name is. (if you can remember) Be safe before and after you get where your going.

Adult behavior does require adult responsiblility. If you are not an adult you shouldn't be hanging out at bars anyway.

RJ

Water

Have you ever walked in a bar and taken a drink suddenly to be reminded of a pool?

Not because the cool crisp taste of the Corona mixed with lime makes you think of the summer, where you spent the hot days in your bathing suit lounging in the pool. Floating around, listening to music, the smell of suntan lotion – the combination as a whole practically narcotic.

Nor is it because of that Strawberry Daiquiri you just took a sip of – which maybe takes you back to your college days…on Spring Break…hanging out on the beach on some island or in Mexico. Making you think back so fondly of your youth, where your only real next “logical” thought was…who buys the next round.

I cannot even say its from drinking a glass of wine which reminds you of a Memorial Day or Labor Day weekend. The beginning or ending of the summer which so traditionally includes a barbecue, and if you’re lucky some lobster or other seafood is involved. Whether it is getting ready for the fun of the season, or the winding down a few intense months of the serious fun that was had by all, the glass of wine seems to compliment that feeling to a tee, but alas – it is neither the Corona, nor the daiquiri, nor the glass of wine.

The drink I am thinking of that once you drink you almost immediately jarred into thinking that you just dove in the swimming pool and ended up swallowing a mouthful of wonderful, tasty, refreshing chlorinated water is none other than the WATER at 1762 itself. So, if you forgot was it was like to be thrown into the pool by an older sibling or family member and getting water logged in the process, come on down and simply ask for a glass full of this refreshing beverage. WATER!!! What is better than that? How about this…IT'S FREE!!! So, please ask your bartender for some at your next visit.

(authored by Peppermint Patti)

Happy New Year

We look forward to a year of fun and good times with the 1762ers.

Hope your holiday season was all that you had hoped it would be.