I was born in Toronto in 1936. I lived above a hairdressing and barber shop run by my mother and father, an aunt and two uncles, at Queen and Seaton streets, in Toronto. The smell of fingerwave solution and the unique odour of a permanent wave still trigger an eruption of memories of playing in the shop. I spoke no English until I went to Duke of York public school, nor did I need to. Playing on Seaton St., I wasn’t aware that English existed. There were enough Ukrainian families on the street that it was like a tribal village or circle of tents in the desert, so oblivious were we to the surrounding population.
Our Ukrainian community was so safe that I could play on Seaton St. all day while my parents worked. If I didn’t come home for lunch it hardly mattered. I simply ate with all the other kids at the home were we happened to be playing. Warm, wizened old babas shrouded in black seemed to be everywhere.
On Sundays and feast days, the Ukrainian tribe trudged to the Holy Eucharist Ukrainian Catholic Church on King St., near the Don River. Today, forty-five years later, when I exit the Don Valley parkway from the Richmond St. Ramp and pass over the former site of the church, I’m flooded with memories of weddings, plays, christenings and religious celebrations. I swear the smells of incense, wax and the stale odour of the basement hall are still there twenty years after the church was demolished. I sometimes still hear the priest’s deep booming voice chanting Hos podi pomelui as he swings the cadillo of smoking frankincense on a golden chain.
At eight, I survived the terrors of Saturday Ukrainian school where I was threatened with life in eternal hell if I didn’t agree to become an alter boy. I remained steadfastly opposed under relentless pressure from two large nuns. My parents were never able to get me to return to Ukrainian school after the nuns forced me to try on the alter boy robes to show me how beautiful I looked in them. They promised me a life in heaven where, as one nun said, “You can have an apply any time you want one.” I can still see her bulbous, scrubbed face framed by her white habit as she leaned close to mine and whispered this holy secret.
When I was five, I was hospitalized with a serious case of strep throat. No one understood me as I whined and complained in Ukrainian and my condition deteriorated. Frustrated, my parents whisked me out of the hospital, vowing they would never speak Ukrainian at home again. They never did, except when Ukrainian visitors came by from the old neighbourhood. I slowly became aware that not all Canadians spoke Ukrainian.
I never realized what a poor student I was until just recently. After my dad’s death, I came upon some of my old report cards from grades four and five among his documents. Report cards then contained only rank in class, one subject after another; no grades, no marks, just rank in class, and a section at the bottom to indicate the number of students in the class. I noted that there were 44 students in the class and my rank for the academic subjects read 44, 43, 38, 41. While I was never required to repeat a grade, my parents were upset when the school wanted to put me into a special program for slow learners. But it was wartime and the placement never materialized.I’ve learned since it takes a second-language student seven to ten years to approach the level of his peers in the ability to use English. My poor reports in grade four represented my functional level after five years of learning English. By the end of grade eight, after nine years of English, my grades were sufficient to gain admission to, and eventually graduate from, Upper Canada College. Later, I completed B.A. and M.Ed. degrees from the University of Toronto.
I am amazed at how long it takes to learn and understand a lanaguage well enough to compete with one’s peers, even when one is born in Canada. The streaming of children of newly arrived immigrant groups into terminal programs or vocatinal programs repeats itself over and over again.
Neither my mother nor my father ever learned to read or write English. There were no newspapers or magazines in our home. I never had a story read to me nor do I recall being told any stories. Goldilocks, Winnie the Pooh and Hansel and Gretel became known to me only as an adult, and there are innumerable references to children’s literary characters that crop up in daily conversation that pass right over me. I remember two books that came into the house. One was a tattered old book of poems by the Ukrainian patriot Taras Shevchenko. The other was a second-hand book on the diseases of the eye – a medical book my father bought for my older brother Walter. He was told to read it because he was going to be a doctor, just as I understood that I was expected to be a lawyer. I never saw anyone pick up either book. But my father constantly proclaimed the importance of education. He never went to school in the Ukraine but he was determined that his sons would make up for his lack of schooling.
My father and eleven silent partners bought a beer parlour, the Riviera Hotel on King St. near Sherbourne. Our family moved in upstairs, and my mother and father ran the hotel singlehandedly. Frankly, it was a whorehouse and a hangout for the legendary Mickey McDonald gang. My father was granted a temporary three-month licence on the condition that if he could clean up the prostitution and get rid of the gang, he would get a permanent licence. I watched many a fight through the banister posts, and I’ll always remember the night my father locked the Mickey McDonald gang inside the hotel until the police arrived. He stood defiantly at the door, bloodied, shouting in his thick accent, “You wouldn’t leave when I asked you; now you stay till I let you leave!” He got his permanent licence.
Life started to settle down a bit. Like clockwork, my father opened the hotel doors every day at noon. The workers from the Christie Biscuit factory across the street poured in for lunchtime brews. One gentleman stood out. He wore a black homburg hat, a black overcoat, a black suit and black tie. Every day he ordered a draft, opened up his newspaper and read for about twenty minutes, finished his beer and left. One day my father, in his broken English, said, “Sir, you look like smart man. My son is in grade eight. I want to send him to good school. The best in Canada. Can you tell me good school?”
The man didn’t like being disturbed. Abruptly, he replied, “One of the best schools in Canada is right here in Toronto. It’s called Upper Canada College.” The newspaper snapped open between them.”Where is this school, sir?”
“On Londsale Road,” came a curt reply from behind the newspaper. My father arranged to make an application for my brother Walter to attend the school. In time, my father received a letter that Walter was not accepted.
Towards the end of June, as my father delivered the ritual draft beer, the man in the black homburg lowered his paper and said, “By the way, did you ever apply to have your son attend Upper Canada College?”
“Yes,” my father said, “but they say no.”
This piqued the gentleman’s interest and he questioned my father further. At his request, my father rummaged around in his cubbyhole of an office and produced the letter. One sentence said: “We do not feel your son would fit in well here.” The man asked my father if he would still like to send his son to Upper Canada.”Sure, if you think it’s good school, I send!” my father replied.
He asked my father if he could keep the letter for a few days, and then he left. About an hour later, the headmaster from Upper Canada College arrived in the men’s parlour of the Riviera Hotel to inform my father that an opening had just come up and the college would be delighted if Walter would accept the vacancy. The man in the black homburg turned out to be a governor of Upper Canada College, who took time out from his law practice to enjoy a beer and a quiet read at lunch. Though my father could ill afford it, we three Diakiw boys began fifteen years of roaming the hallowed halls of Upper Canada College. What a strange quirk of fate! What a bizarre shift in cultures! My five years at the college were a combination of joy, pleasure, boredom, humiliation and anger. I reveled in the sports and other extra-curricular opportunities available there. Despite the strong loyalty I still have for the College, the appalling boredom and monotony of my classes hardly justified its first-rate reputation. Parents paid exorbitantly for the reputation, and students didn’t dare question the teaching staff. Yet in many ways, away from the school, I acquired status. When adults learned about the school I attended, they gave me an unwarranted elevated social status, not unlike the deference they might have shown to an Oxford or Harvard graduate.
Until I entered Upper Canada College, I never realized how Ukrainian or, rather, how non-Canadian I was. Attending the college exposed the socio-cultural hierarchies to which I had been oblivious. For me, this privilege was not without its price. In 1957, two years after graduating from Upper Canada College, I served in the Royal Canadian navy’s summer training program (UNTD) for officer cadets. I arrived at the Officers’ Mess in Montreal, shouldered my duffle bag to my assigned quarters and introduced myself to my roommate, Milton Zysman, who was stretched out on his bed reading. “What kind of name is Diakiw?” he asked.”Ukrainian,” I said.”Ah! Another Black man,” he boomed. I looked at him – stunned – as lights flashed in my mind and memories tumbled and unfolded like a kaleidoscope. I had never thought of it that way, yet he had exposed a central truth about the way I felt and the experiences I had had. What did a Ukrainian and a Jew have in common with a Black man? Why did I find it so easy to identify with that statement? While the differences in experiences were vast, we had all known intolerance, prejudice and second-class status. For Milton and me, this status was confirmed by law. Our parents had immigrated to Canada at a time when the rulings under the Immigration Act of 1923 classified European immigrants as preferred (northwestern Europe), non-preferred (eastern Europe, including the Ukraine) and Special Permits Class (southern Europe and all Jews except British subjects, regardless of their nationality). The day that I arrived at the naval base in Montreal, I no longer spoke or understood Ukrainian. I was born in Canada and I had never visited the Ukraine. I had had no association with the Ukrainian church since the age of ten. I belonged to no Ukrainian club or organization, celebrated no Ukrainian holiday or festival. I was almost not a Ukrainian at all, except that my identity was defined and affirmed for me by English Canadians. They defined the group to which they had determined I belonged, and that group was somehow inherently inferior.
I was not aware of this inferior status until I went to Upper Canada College, where I was confronted with the impenetrable wall of white Anglo-Saxon Protestantism. I don’t recall being insulted personally, apart from one French teacher. He regularly kicked and pushed me out of my seat and onto the floor while shouting how I was born out of my mother’s deep black Ukrainian swamp.
Otherwise, I was treated as an equal and fully accepted into school life. No door or opportunity was closed to me. I was accepted by my classmates as one of them. And yet I felt like an alien. The culture of the college was English public school. This tradition was so highly guarded that the school always imported an English headmaster to guarantee that these central values were maintained. (A few years after I graduated, the school appointed its first Canadian headmaster.) In being accepted, I came to learn how my culture, my parents, my lifestyle, my past were not acceptable. I believe that I hid this knowledge well from my classmates – they just never knew. As such, they revealed their feelings and attitudes. Even today I can’t share with my close friends from those years the subtle and unconscious distinctions they communicated to me. They wouldn’t remember, or would suggest that I was overly sensitive – I’m sure they just wouldn’t understand. The distinctions were relentless: ethnic jokes, the derision about the way ethnics talked or dressed, their language about immigrants – “those bloody Dps are ruining this country” – the belittling of other cultures – “the only cultural achievement of the Ukrainians is the decorated Easter egg.” A remark about an Italian , a jew or Hungarian painted me with the same brush. They accepted me as one of them, but when they joked about ethnics, they defined me and it belittled me.
At the college, we were trained to emulate proper Englishmen. We were taught Latin and the classics. We committed to memory, during daily Church of England prayers in the chapel, such patriotic English hymns as “Jerusalem” – “Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem in England’s green and pleasant land.” I learned about Empire and about all the “pink bits” on the map. Through the Upper Canada College Cadet Battalion’s affiliation with the Queen’s Own Rifles, I learned of that regiment’s gallant history in creating, defending and protecting the Empire. Prince Philip, our royal patron, made periodic visits to the school to affirm our connection right to the top. My classmates and I learned about power, and that power was in the hands of English Canadians; we were trained to be proper English Canadians. Many of those same classmates dominate in every corridor of power today.
This was not an environment in which I was able to talk proudly about my heritage. I retreated and assimilated as fast as I could. I was very ashamed of my background. I was particularly embarrassed about my parents. Compared with my friend’s parents, mine seemed ignorant and crude. Not one classmate ever met my parents or visited my home during the five years I attended the college. I visited in their homes but not until the end of grade thirteen did I invite any friends to mine. Only then did I begin to realize that despite the differences in culture and wealth, my parents were among the best.
To me, my mother and father were largely without prejudice. (My wife maintains that I delude myself.) But the one ethnic group that bore the brunt of slurs and castigation by my parents was that of English Canadians with English accents. My mother always felt embarrassed and humiliated in their presence. When one of us put on “airs”, acted overbearing, pompous, opinionated or domineering, they would say “Don’t act like a ‘Bronco.’” A “Bronco” was an English person, and in our house it was the most scathing insult you could make. As a youngster I never understood this hostility. But at Upper Canada College and in the years that followed, I began to understand the impertinence of “the dominant culture.” I came to understand and sympathize with angry Jews who stereotype gentiles, with Blacks who lash out against whites, with radical feminists who demolish men. Reverse discrimination, the slow-brewing reaction to inequality, is often accompanied by anger and hostility. I remember when my older brother Walter was dating an English girl my mother warned me not to marry a “Bronco” because “whenever you have a fight she’ll throw it in your face that are not a real Canadian.” (All three of us married “Broncos.”) How many times will I hear “Why don’t they just become Canadians?” uttered in dismay and frustration by a WASP who understands what a Canadian is. They want us to be like them.
Even a friend, who lives in Metropolitan Toronto where the majority of residents are from a non-English-speaking background, when discussing a draft of this memoir asked me, “Do you feel more Ukrainian or more Canadian?” The depth of misunderstanding revealed by this question staggers me, yet it typifies the suspicion and misunderstanding that English Canadians have of immigrants. Even my father, a Ukrainian patriot, born and raised in the Ukraine, a man who loved his heritage passionately, loved Canada foremost. He considered it an honour and privilege to be a Canadian. He would not have understood my neighbour’s question. It’s like asking someone if they are more white or more Canadian.
I still struggle to control and understand my own prejudices. Though I have few remaining traits normally associated with belonging to a cultural group, such as language, religion or customs, my pride in my Ukrainian roots runs strong and deep. I somehow feel connected to the men and women in sheepskin coats who settled the west in endless waves. I still somehow feel that a Ukrainian Cossack dance is my kind of dance.
Author: Jerry Diakiw
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
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With bar ownership, there will come many challenges that you may not have yet considered. Your duties and those of your employees will require a few extra credentials. Don’t get me wrong, it is a fun type of business but not like any other that you may have encountered. Your customers in a bar situation, are a bit different than those in a restaurant environment and special skill sets are needed to prepare your employees. These are special requirements, that are in addition to the normal food service worker chores.
Bar ownership or management can certainly be a lot of fun at times but you shouldn’t be on the wrong side of the bar. You have a business to run and sometimes things can get out of hand in a pub or lounge so you need to be careful and always fully alert. Your bartenders should be friendly and cordial to customers but always aware of the situation at their duty area and throughout their scope of responsibility.
You should never let things get out of hand. Be aware of your customer’s actions and know how to carefully shutoff a customer when you have to do it and be conscious of mood changes, that can occur in bar patrons from time to time. Remember, honesty is a major consideration when hiring you bar staff. A dishonest bar tender can do you great harm.
You may know how to mix drinks and that is one thing but knowing how to control your customers is another requirement of equal value. Even if you think that you’ve hired the best barkeeps, still be aware of the feedback that you get from both customers and fellow employees and be sure to watch your tallies carefully.
Compare other staff takes on similar nights and the liquor costs accordingly. Be on top of what is going on at all times. It can get hectic especially on busy nights. That careful observation needs to involve the times when you are behind the bar, as well as when you are on the customer side of the establishment.
As a bar owner or manager, you will want to learn to bar tend on slower nights and be always prepared to fill in for staff who call in last minute or need to leave suddenly, as this and other situations will arise from time to time. Keep a list of those individuals that you can call upon, with little notice. This resource may be former employees, off work staff or even those with resumes that are currently on file. When you are not able to get replacements when staff calls in sick, quits on the spot or unexpected circumstances happen, it will ultimately be you who needs to fill the void.
Be prepared. My experience with the restaurant and bar had me working just about every position at one time or another. Maybe you will schedule yourself for certain jobs to reduce your overall payroll. This will be your choice as you make the decisions.
Setting up a bar from scratch is still another chore. You can decide how many items you will offer to your customers. In this instance, the customers will help you decide. You may be influenced by what your regular customers consume. If your place is a fun establishment, you will soon have regulars just like the “Cheers” bar. At the start, of course you will have premium brands on your top shelf. These might be Absolute Vodka, Grand Marnier, Crown Royal, Frangelica, and other expensive selections. Your selections will change a bit due to the taste of your regulars. The shelf just below would probably have Smirnoff, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Gilbey Gin and others. Below this would be your bar brands like Gold Crown, Allen’s, Popov, bar whiskeys etc.
Similarly, you will decide what kinds of beer to stock and decide if you will offer draft beer. Your bottle beer would come from the big three. Budweiser, Miller and Coors will furnish the majority of your choices and your customers will help you decide what else to carry. Certain customers drink certain brands. As for draft, Bud once again is the most popular in most states. You might choose to try one of the popular light beers which could be a Miller, Coors or Bud product. A third or fourth tap, you might have to experiment with. Wine will be determined by your customers, price and taste. If you only have two choices, you would probably have one red and one white variety. Some areas are bigger wine drinking areas than others. This will be learned in no time at all. You won’t need to do too much experimenting here.
Setting up your mixer station will be pretty basic. There will have to be lemon lime mix, ginger ale, cola, soda water and H2O. You will have spicket taps hooked up in back of the bar with lines running to your storage area where you will also have CO2. You’ll also have a separate system with CO2 for your tap beer. Once you establish a certain offering, you will need to have backups on hand to replace those that empty out. Keep a record of all your empties too. Try to determine the proper number of servings you should get from each bottle. After a while, you will be an expert at this.
You will compare your nightly tallies to the amount of liquor sold and you’ll compare to the take calculations with different staff members. Make sure the same drink is being served by different staff and a similar take reaches a similar tally. It sounds like a lot of work but in time it will not be an overwhelming task. The beers you choose to sell will be the major brand plus the choices of your customers. Depending on the space allowed, you will figure out all of this. After you determine your consumption weekly, you will decide how much supply to keep on hand. Your beer distributor will help you with this task.
If you should have a draft system is just another choice that you will make along with your regulars. You will stock what they drink and what is profitable for you. Everything will essentially be determined by space, coolers available, customers and profitability. What you think will sell doesn’t always work. As far as wine sales, start with a red and white and decide what your customers want. Maybe your market area is not big on wine but perhaps it is. Only time will tell and your additional research. Soon, you will determine what your busy nights are, when to run specials and the needs of your regulars.
You may decide to have a jukebox in your bar. These can be obtained from a local amusement company. The firm would furnish the music player and help set it up with speakers etc. Then you would get to keep a percentage of the deposits that were taken in on a regular basis. This same company would probably furnish pool tables, cigarette machine, video games or anything else that you thought you had room for in your establishment. There would be a split on proceeds. One thing to remember, you would need to have a lot of change on hand, just to get through the weekends. I know that I certainly did but the huge bags of quarters that I ended up with, helped to make change for my cash registers. Also, you will need coolers and ice machine to finish off your bar. Everything will depend on the size of your pub, bar or full Lounge with tables.
If you have room for a stage and plan to have live entertainment that might include live music, this will mean a busy environment requiring more coolers, staff, stock and the need for some type of security. For my own operation, I had live music 2-3 nights a week for a long time. My most successful night of the week was on a Thursday night. You might think that odd but I established a popular open mike night that lasted for over two years every week. I had a house band that worked for me continually and at a much reduced rate.
My club attracted a huge crowd and lots of free performers that wanted to showcase their talent. Sometimes, there would only be a couple of extra singers and some weren’t very good. Other nights, there might be 2-3 bands performing for free in addition to my paid house band. There would be guitars, harmonicas, trumpets and banjos too. Most of the other competitors couldn’t compete with me on that particular night. Sometimes, I would go to the mike myself and read off raffles for tee shirts and hats that I got from my distributors. The beer salesmen always could get you mirrors, lights, shirts and caps. Especially during the holidays and during sporting events like the Super Bowl, they would have posters, banners, table tents and other novelties. The neighborhood competitors would schedule entertainment only on the weekends. Bands ask much more on a Friday or Saturday as you know.
Like in the food business, a bar needs gimmicks. The slow nights for me, happened to be Sun, Mon and Tues. On these nights, I ran specials. Every Tues. night, I gave away a couple of large pizzas as a door prize and announced a winner later in the evening. It would keep people around longer. They didn’t want to miss the drawing and would come back later if they went off to another place. They never knew exactly when I was going to pick a number from the hat. Monday night, I might have margaritas on special or something else. You have to be creative all the time in these types of businesses. You have to always be aware of the bottom line and stay profitable if at all possible. If you follow these guidelines, I’m sure you can be the success that you know you can be and ultimately you will meet the challenge of your bar ownership.
Author: John Sprague
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
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Made famous by Revolutionary events, infamous by cold winters, and both by the World-Series winning Red Sox, Boston has its fair share of reasons to visit. With such a reputation, however, comes high prices, and it has become increasingly difficult to find bargain deals in the city. That is why we created a list of budget restaurants, bars and activities that both locals and tourists can use when going out in Boston. Spanning the unique Boston neighborhoods, we have suggestions whether you are with family, friends or single. We also provide ideas for dates that won’t break the bank – great especially for a first outing, yet perfect also for a change of pace in the old routine.
Restaurants
Grendel’s Den (89 Winthrop Street, Harvard Square) – Stop by for the happy hour food specials from 5-7:30pm and after 9:30pm at this popular Harvard Square bar. The entire menu (normally very reasonable) is half priced, giving the diner on a budget some great options. Try the Mediterranean platter for steak tips and hummus for only $5 during happy hour. Also, stop by on Sunday evenings for the special dollar menu, featuring items such burgers and pasta. There is a minimum drink purchase of $3 required for the discount prices.
Brother Jimmy’s BBQ (96 Winthrop St., Cambridge) – Enjoy some of the best BBQ you can find north of Memphis and east of St. Louis. While the entrees can get pricey, you can enjoy a great BBQ sandwich and a side for under $10. Try the pulled Chicken with the Eastern Carolina sauce and the mashed potatoes with gravy. If you’re looking to splurge, try a Swamp-water; this fish bowl of liquor is $15, but does come with its own alligator. On Wednesdays, be sure to check out the Ladies Night specials and receive $1 domestic beers and $1 margaritas. Also on Wednesdays, receive a 25% discount on your food purchases with a valid Southern ID (States south of the Mason-Dixon Line and east of the Mississippi). On Saturdays, there are $0.35 wings and $8 pitchers from 12-4pm. For those really looking to eat, stop by on Sundays for all-you-can-eat ribs and all-you-can-drink drafts for $22.95 (two hour max) or on Mondays for all-you-can-eat wings and rib tips and all-you-can-drink drafts for $14.95.
Fajitas and Ritas (25 West St., Downtown or 1237 Hancock St., Quincy) – It’s easy to stuff yourself with fresh Tex-Mex food here without spending too much cash, because Fajitas and Ritas is one of the few places around that serves dinner-sized fajitas for less than $10. For those who prefer the Tex instead of the Mex, you can get a BBQ pulled pork sandwich accompanied by slaw, beans and corn bread, also for under $10. And even though you might be trying to save money, it’s hard not to splurge on a Raspberry Margarita for a bit over $4. No matter your budget, you won’t be hungry when you leave!
McCormick and Schmick’s (North Market Building, Faneuil Hall) – This upscale seafood restaurant can normally cost a pretty penny but at happy hour anyone can afford to enjoy some of McCormick and Schmick’s great food. From 3:30 to 6:30pm Monday through Friday and 10pm-12am on Saturday and Sunday, the bar features a $1.95 menu featuring standby favorites such as burgers, chicken wings, and cheese quesadillas, as well as seafood choices such as oysters and clams. The menu changes daily and there is a minimum drink purchase required. Reservations are suggested. For more info, take a look at their website here.
Drink Specials
Sunset Grill and Tap (130 Brighton Ave., Allston) – While this bar doesn’t have any drink specials, the sheer vastness of its beer selection makes it worth checking out. Offering 112 beers on tap and 380 types of bottled beer, Sunset is truly a beer drinker’s heaven. The prices range based on the brand but try the Dogfish Head 90 Minute IPA. This one is 9% alcohol so at about $4 per pint, it can be a pretty good deal. For the drinker living on the edge, there’s the 120 Minute IPA, which is 21% alcohol by volume. The Sunset also offers a menu of tasty, relatively cheap food to accompany your beer selections. You might want to get here early; the lines and wait can get long. For more information take a look here.
Roggie’s Brew and Grille (356 Chestnut Hill Ave., Brighton) – While this is definitely a Boston College bar, any one looking for a fun scene and young crowd can enjoy this Brighton hotspot. Roggie’s offers 52 beers on tap and martinis for only $5. Also stop by between 4-7pm for $0.15 wings. For those with a larger crowd, or perhaps looking to not remember their night, try the 64 once bowls of mixed drinks for around 17 dollars. As an added bonus, Roggie’s also has a pizza shop right next door for anyone looking for some great cheap eats after a night of heavy drinking.
Pour House Bar and Grill (909 Boylston Street, Fenway Kenmore) – Well known as a college student’s dream bar, this place offers a fun crowd and cheap prices. The deals on food can be exceptional. On Wednesdays after 6pm, try the $2.50 chicken sandwich and Saturdays after 6pm all burgers are half priced. This bar offers a pretty standard selection of drinks, which are also reasonably priced. The service is seat-yourself, but this bar can fill up pretty quickly.
Beacon Hill Pub (149 Charles Street, Beacon Hill) – If you are looking to relive your college years, then Beacon Hill Pub is the place to go. Start with the $1.55 Bud draft pints in plastic cups. Then challenge your buddies to a game of foosball or pinball. Within minutes you’ll feel as if you’re 21 again (or even 18?). Wednesday nights are best if you’re looking for a fun but chill scene – make sure to introduce yourself to Garrett the bartender (and, of course, tip him), and he’ll be sure to remember your poison and prepare it for you as soon as you approach the bar. Thursdays through Saturdays tend to be more crowded, but fun all the same, especially if that is more your scene. Don’t worry about driving and trying to find a parking spot in the impossible Beacon Hill neighborhood – a T stop and a cabstand are only a few steps from the door.
Activities
Faneuil Hall Marketplace (Downtown) – More commonly referred to as Quincy Market, this marketplace offers all kinds of food, shopping and live entertainment. Hungry? Try one of the 17 restaurants or 40 eateries serving up everything from famous New England clam chowda to ethnic Indian and, of course, delectable deserts. Looking for something new? There are multiple retailers, from recognized apparel stores to local gift shops, for you to browse. Just want to be entertained? The musical and variety acts put on by the street performers provide free amusement for passerbys of all ages. Or check out The Comedy Connection (see write-up below) for a more organized comedic routine. Located on the waterfront and easily identified by the cobblestone walkways and 19th century buildings, Quincy Market can’t be missed.
Kayak the Charles (Charles River Canoe and Kayak, in Artesani Park in Allston/Brighton) – You’re sure to cross the Charles River at some point during your stay in Boston – but have you ever considered paddling through it? Stroll with a friend to the Charles River Canoe and Kayak kiosk and rent a two-person canoe or kayak for around $15 per hour. Whether you’re looking for a strenuous workout or a leisurely paddle (the waters are typically calm), kayaking the Charles River can provide either one, or anything in-between. Just make sure the skies are sunny, because rentals are not available on rainy days. Easily spotted in Artesani Park by the green-roof, this rental site is open on fair days from May through early October. Check out other options at their website here.
The Comedy Connection (Faneuil Hall Marketplace) Relax for a night and let the upcoming professionals work to make your date laugh! Comedians perform live every day of the week, but you will want to call (617.248.9700) for reservations if you plan to attend a show between Thursday and Saturday. Ticket prices usually range between $12 and $25, depending on who is on stage, but cheaper doesn’t mean less funny – just less well known acts, which often leads to more original comedy. To see who will be performing next, check here.
The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (280 The Fenway, Fenway Kenmore) – If the long Bostonian winter gets you and your significant other down, and you both need to see something blooming (but know that won’t happen outside in winter), you can visit the atrium in the center of the Gardner Museum, where the garden courtyard is flowering in every season. There are also three floors of art that, upon Ms. Gardner’s direction, have not been modified since their placement during the 19th century. The museum is open Tuesday through Sunday, 11am to 5 pm. If you can convince them your name is Isabella, you can get in for free. Otherwise, show a student ID for a $5 admission fee. You can get to the museum by taking the Huntington Avenue No. 39 bus or the Green Line train to the Museum stop.
Cheap Dates
South Street Diner (corner of Kneeland and South Sts, Beacon Hill) – Nothing beats sharing a booth and a milkshake at a diner with your date. Open 24 hours a day, there is no bad time to take your significant other out for a bite – be it breakfast, dinner or dessert. Actually, no matter when you go, you should still order a slice of their famous chocolate mousse cake! From the jukebox playing the hits of the decade to the life-sized James Dean near the bathroom, South Street provides that happy, romantic feel we all associate with a typical 1950s diner.
Mike’s Pastry (300 Hanover St., in the North End) – Want to show your date how sweet you can be? Then take him or her to Mike’s Pastry and choose from a selection of cannoli, biscotti, cheesecake and every other Italian dessert you could imagine. You can order enough tasty treats to satisfy yourself and your date without being alarmed by the price, but it may be tough to find a spot to sit. The line may be long, but isn’t your date well worth the wait? Well, if not, the goodies will be!
Boston Bike, Beach and Brewery Tour (Boston Common) – If you enjoy bicycling, beaches and beer, then this is the tour for you! On the third Saturday of each month from late Spring to early Fall, the Boston Bike Tours guides its patrons through the Financial District to Castle Island and Carson beach and then to Boston’s Harpoon Brewery for a beer and a tour. The entire trip takes about 4 ½ hours, but only covers between 16-20 miles of mostly flat terrain, so a lot of that time will be spent relaxing at the beach and brewery, and you do not need to be an ‘experienced’ cyclist to enjoy the tour. The guided tour, with bike, helmet, water and beer, is $25 total, or $20 if you bring your own bike. Reservations are suggested and can be made by calling (617) 308-5902 or visiting their website here.
Walk the Freedom Trail (from Boston Common to Bunker Hill) – Wear a pair of comfortable walking shoes, bring a good friend and spend half a day strolling along this historical trail through Boston. The trail begins in Boston Common (where I suggest you grab a map at the Information Kiosk), continues towards Faneuil Hall, winds through the North End, and then ends with a loop around Charlestown and the Harbor. If you’re not up for walking the entire 2.5 mile trail, you can sign up for a short, 90-minute guided tour from Boston Common to Faneuil Hall ($12 for adults, $6 for kids) or opt for the loop at the end of the trail, which takes you past the Bunker Hill Monument and USS Constitution. Either way, the trail provides a leisurely and economical means to enjoy the sights and history of Boston. Check out a map of the Freedom Trail here.
Author: Steve Perlow
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Digital Camera Times
Prepare to dine “under the sea” at this gourmet seafood dining location and live on the edge of a living coral reef! This dining location is located at “The Living Seas with Nemo and Friends.” From the entrance, continue past Spaceship Earth and turn right after the Innoventions Plaza, before the fountain. Continue until you pass under the building overhang and then make the first right and continue until you see the blue building of the Living Seas.
This extraordinary dining location has an aquarium wall with 8 foot high windows with incredible views of the underwater life. Seating is tiered which assures everyone is able to see this aquatic display. Lighting is subdued and the interior is decorated in soothing shades of blue and green which enhance the underwater effect. In addition to freshly prepared seafood, meat, chicken and vegetarian selections are offered.
Both lunch and dinner is served at this dining location and the Coral Reef has an extensive selection of menu items to choose from. Appetizer selections give you chilled shrimp, New England Cod Cake and Sea Land which is grilled shrimp with cucumber salad and barbecued beef skewer with creamy Polenta.
Lunch entrees offer you grilled pork chops, blackened catfish, grilled New York strip steak, lobster salad, grilled mahimahi, grilled chicken breast, bbq salmon sandwich, Caesar salad, pesto risotto and pan seared tilapia. Lunch desserts offer citrus creme brulee, Bavarian cheesecake, the chocolate wave and Bailey’s and Jack Daniel’s Mousse. Drinks include: non-alcoholic specialty drinks and a selection of bottled beer, draft beer, half bottles of wine, martinis, specialty drinks and wines by the glass.
Dinner entrees include: pan-seared Ahi tuna, seared sterling salmon, shrimp pasta, grilled pork chops, grilled chicken breast, grilled New York strip steak, pesto risotto, blackened catfish and grilled mahi-mahi.
Appetizers, desserts and drinks are all the same for lunch and dinner. Lunch hours are from 12pm until 3pm and dinner hours are from 4:30pm until 8pm. Menu items are under $35.00 per person. Remember that prices and menu items are subject to change at any time.
This is the perfect restaurant to dine at in Disney World if you’re looking for fresh seafood and a real idea of what the ocean life is really like.
Author: Scarlet Murdock
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Digital Camera News
Running beertaps.com has been an interesting ride that was more involved than I thought it would be. But, it has been fun. Each new challenge has presented an interesting and useful solution.
For instance, when I was asked about the kegerator a customer just purchased, I realized that there probably are more people out there who have the same questions. So, I wrote a report and published it on the site. Then, I wrote an article to let everyone know that I wrote the report.
That’s about the time the second question came in about keeping beer lines clean. Then, about home brew recipes. So, I kept writing reports to help people and I kept writing articles to make people more aware.
It started out as a big gaggle of reports that I finally organized into a Learning Center that is now populated with great stuff. From Home Brew Tips and Tricks to DIY Home Bar Projects, I keep adding to the learning center. But, I’m always willing to hear what you want to know. I have a form for questions at http://www.beertaps.com/contact.html
But, the recent interactive is the forum I created. It’s easier than a report to write a simple answer. Some answers aren’t as involved as putting an entire article together with pictures and everything. So, I populated the forum with a few items. But, it’s new.
I’d love to see some people on there soon. Start some topics and get some feedback. How else do you expect a forum to get started?
http://brewdrinker.com/thepub/
Hope to see you there!
I was in the UWGB area with a girlfriend of mine when she suggested we stop and check out Cliffhangers. She had never been there and neither had I. She told me that it used to be named Stratosphere back in the day. Exactly how back in the day she wasn’t sure so we decided to investigate. And by investigate I mean drink.
From the outside it looks like a fairly decent sized square building on Humbolt Road. When you open the doors on your right is this board with food specials for the week. Not that I was interested in the food for that night but as a FYI, they have buck burgers on Thursdays if you buy a drink. There are also specials pretty much every other night of the week; I would call for a run down if you’re interested. When you walk inside, straight ahead are the restrooms, to the left is a small room with a single pool table and to the right is the bar and restaurant area. The bar area is your typical bar with neon lights, arcade games, ATM, regulars lounging about and a slight smoky smell. And what else did I spy with my little eyes? A nacho machine! You know how some bars offer free popcorn, well Cliffhangers took it a step further, they have a nacho machine with a tub of salsa waiting for you to enjoy.
Usually I opt to sit at the bar but Cliffhangers has these ceiling to floor mural type windows in their restaurant area and I couldn’t resist. Accompanying these window walls are huge booths making it even more attractive to sit there. This place could be a somewhat rowdy hangout for drinking or it could be a cute date night place as well. The bar scene is different than the restaurant atmosphere. It’s hard to explain but it has both qualities and could go either night depending on the crowd. We each ordered a glass of house Merlot for $4 apiece. We arrived in the middle of happy hour (from 4PM to 6PM) and they offered double bubble on drafts and rail mixes. But with the scenic window, over sized booths and warm cozy atmosphere wine seemed the better choice. And in my opinion wine was definitely the winner, our glasses came full. You know, how when you go out and order wine it’s poured like how it’s supposed to be poured, the glass is less than half full; so not the way I pour my wine at home, I like my wine a little more full. Well, here they do it the way you secretly wished it was done out in public – these were my kind of wine-filled glasses. We were there long enough to enjoy the scenic view, flying turkeys, and the sunset. Yes, I saw Turkeys and there were flying in the sort of way they can. Those suckers are huge!
Cliffhangers was a fun night with cheap drinks, huge windows to look out upon and good company. In the summer time they open up an outdoor patio that I’m definitely looking forward to.
Author: Patty Summerfield
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Digital Camera Times
The end of summer is near and the smell of Labor day barbecues are in the air. With football season just around the corner, it is time to sharpen your pencil to see who will be the star athletes of this year’s fantasy football league.
How to become a Fantasy Football Phenom is a step by step guide meant to position you to get what you deserve, a fantasy football phenom. With a grand prize of $157.00, you will reap the winnings and come put victorious.Year after year you have been at the bottom of the pile wen it comes to points and position. If you want to rocket to the winners circle, keep reading! This year you need to develop a new strategy and execute flawlessly so that you can get the accolades (and the money) you deserve.
The players on your roster from last year have now either retired, in jail or out for the season. The new rookies are still to be tested, and the veterans that beat you week after week are ready for your review and analysis. Follow the next 3 steps and you are on your way to becoming invincible on the fantasy grid iron.
Step1 – Preparation and Research are key!. You must digest the daily news, blogs and commentaries from the likes of ESPN, CNN and other organizations each and every day. The internet and Google are your friends. Your wife and kids will understand and support your quest for the $157.00. If not, they can be found at the in-laws after the season.
Step2 – Knowledge is POWER! Be the one that has the inside scoop on every trade and injury report. Your mind must be a sponge as you scan various agencies to sweep your opponents. Your success will translate into their demise as they crash and burn during the season. The early bird gets the worm, and you are that Bird!
Step3 – Adhere to the 3 levels of Doom process.
- Level 1 – Pick your wide receivers first. They are the ultimate secret weapon.
- Level 2- Pick the quarterback next. If you pick the best wide receivers at the top of their game, it will allow you to pick a weaker quarterback. The quarterback can be less important for this reason.
- Level 3 – Your last level is to pick the best running backs. The key factors to this position is speed and health. If your running back is fast and stays healthy, you are sure to be a winner week after week.
Once you have followed these 3 easy steps on how to become a fantasy football phenom, you will be leading the pack in no time. Once you receive your winnings, you can by all the guys a beer at your favorite tavern. Good Luck!
Author: Owen Roberts
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Hybrid and Electric Cars
You’d love to have your own home bar. Who wouldn’t? If you’ve been dreaming about building your own home bar but everywhere you look the prices are too high, I’d love to give you some ideas that will help bring the cost down.
A nice backdrop for the bar is always brick with surrounding cabinets and a mirror. But, who says you have to hire a contractor, a cabinet maker and an interior designer? With just a little creativity, you can be well on your way to a beautifully finished professional looking bar in no time.
First of all, you can build your own cabinets with 2 X 4s and plywood. If you walk through a hardware store, you’ll find so many things that you will want to use for projects all around your home. If you look for cabinet doors, you’ll find them of all shapes and sizes. You can get plain wood that you can paint or finish any way you like.
So, you don’t have to buy an entire cabinet set. Just build the structure with 2 X 4s and plywood. Then, finish them off with the cabinet doors. You can finish your frame the same as you finish the doors. Then, you can make the surface of the counter look great in several inexpensive ways.
The most inexpensive way to make the surface of a counter look spectacular without spending ridiculous amounts of money is to use wallpaper. Get virtually any design you want and wallpaper the countertop. It’s that easy.
You can also use floor tiling to make the countertop look just the way you want. You’d actually have a more durable design if you get the square foot sections that adhere to the floor. Granite countertops are a lot more expensive. But if you have a small surface area, you might be able to fit it in your budget.
Your options aren’t finished yet. Wood veneers are great for making the counter look like it has a wood finish. They also make a good match for the bar itself. What’s more, the leather fabrics you can use don’t have to be that expensive if you only get enough to cover the surface of the counter and the bar if you want them to match. Leather is actually a touch of class.
When you are looking at applying brick to the backdrop, look at faux brick finishes. A small section of faux brick is all you need. Simply center it on your countertop and let it rise to the bottom of your cabinets. If you have a cabinet on each side of the brick, it will look great.
Finish the look with lights and a mirror and you’ve got yourself the start of a professional looking bar. Of course, the actual bar will look great if it matches the cabinets in your backdrop. You can build your bar rather inexpensively too with 2 X 4s and plywood. Then, visit your hardware store again for some good design ideas.
Trim for the walls often looks great when you use it to create designs on your bar. You can add dimension or just a touch of style when you look at all your trim options and choose some that really dress up your bar perfectly. Keep a place for your kegerator. Add a beer tap and a bar handle. You’re looking more and more like a professional bar every minute.
You’ll need stools and then you’ll want to add more and more to your bar. Mirrors cover all the walls. A Jagermeister machine sits on top of the bar. A television hangs on the wall. You’ll love what you can do. But, all it takes is getting started.
Author: Stan Schubridge
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Humorous photo captions
A building engineer at Saint Francis Hospital is not an engineer in the literal sense of the word. By that I mean, he is not an individual who designs things. A building engineer is a person primarily responsible for the maintenance of the air conditioning systems in the hospital, a Building Services and Environmental Engineer.
A typical degreed BSEE specializes in all aspects of building services: heating, air conditioning, ventilation, plumbing, lighting, electrical services, building management systems and controls. In the hospital that would have included a large steam turbine located in the basement at the southeast corner of the building also a Honeywell computer system that controlled pneumatic valves and dampers, regulating the air cleanliness also the temperature and humidity inside the hospital.
Although I am not sure what year it was that one of the building engineers graduated from college, it would surely have been in the early seventies because I left to go to college myself in the fall of 1973. Regardless, sometime after learning that, I was invited to the man’s graduation party, a bash to be held in a bar directly across the intersection from the hospital.
A couple of men I worked with in the Electronics Shop, Jim Burke and George Fletcher, showed up also a horde of others from the Maintenance Shop and a couple of the Building Engineers. I was driving a new blue 1973 Ford Van and parked it facing the bar, a little west of the door.
The bar, located in a small shopping mall at the northwest corner of 61st and Yale, was not that large. There was a juke box inside the door also a couple of pool tables then further back there were a few tables for four with a small bar on the right. If my memory serves me, the pool tables were at a lower level than the bar but if that assumption were true, obviously the owners would have opened themselves up to expensive lawsuits resulting from inebriated patrons tripping or falling over the two levels. Therefore I would have to say my memory is faulty in that one instance. But I have a clear recollection of other events as they unfolded throughout the evening.
Upon entering the door and regardless of the architecture, the two men from the Electronics Shop and I sat down at a table near the front: George sitting across from me with his back to the pool tables and Jim on my left with his back to the bar.
Glancing around the crowded room I doubt there were any of those present that knew George was a straight shooting pool shark. I know I didn’t. And even when the shock wore off George was still running the tables before drinking so much he didn’t know which end of the cue stick to strike the ball.
But that wasn’t the only reason George relinquished his place at the table, there were others there with the ability to sink a tough shot and George finally lost and returned to the chair directly across from me. Jim and I we were not nearly so good at playing pool and spent most of our time sitting at the table sipping suds and observing the other player’s skill or lack of it.
Some time passed, with the three of us continuing to have a great time, when all of a sudden the conversation shifted to work. I don’t think I knew it at the time and Jim and George may not have been aware of their distrust of the other – if that was the problem. In simple terms they may not have liked the other or each of them harbored a deep-set resentment for the other.
At the time Jim was either the shop foreman or was bucking for the job and George was reporting to him or would have if Jim got the job. Whether any of what I have said was relevant or had anything to do with what happened next is open to debate and my lack of insider information, but for whatever reason, all hell broke loose when the two men started arguing about something that involved work.
As the argument heated up I just sat there dumbfounded, switching my gaze from one to the other, not believing what was happening less than three feet away. Here were a couple of guys, both of which were my friends and friends of each other, I thought, arguing over nothing or at least what I thought at the time was petty, certainly not important enough to quarrel with the intensity they were going at it. But there they were heatedly disagreeing about something that was obviously important to them.
One thing I’ve always said about myself is I don’t get into fights while I’m drinking and for that reason I purposely maintained a neutral stance throughout their squabble. I had hoped it would soon run its course and one of them would either shut up and apologize or leave – but neither of them did.
Some more time passed before one of them stood up then the other and they started grappling for position. Those around the pool table nearest our table backed up out of the way and the two men, attempting to stretch the other’s neck, began exchanging blows in the space between the pool table and the north wall.
It looked like David and Goliath – Jim was over six foot tall and George was about my height, five foot eight or so. Also Jim had previously run a bar over in Creek County near Sapulpa and had some experience dealing with drunks. With that being said, George may have had a few more drinks than he or any of us even realized or was more susceptible to the alcohol and he was starting to lose to the bigger man fast.
In the blink of an eye, Jim threw George up against the north wall like a super human robot or monster then pounced on him like Dracula would have with his cape flowing. And some of us developed a sickening feeling when the sound waves produced by George’s head striking the brick wall exploded from the scene at 774 mph then sat frozen in place as George’s body crumpled to the floor.
An instant later Jim grabbed George around the neck and started beating his head into the floor and the same squashy sound as a large grapefruit striking a hard concrete surface found our ears.
I don’t know what would have happened if the bartender hadn’t showed up with the butt end of a cue stick and stuck it up to Jim’s head and demanded that he stop. Jim wasn’t a fool and wasn’t drunk to the point he thought taking on another man his size or larger was an option, so he relaxed his grip on the smaller man and stood up.
I don’t remember much of anything that followed. But if I were to guess, George was rushed back across the intersection to the hospital to check for damaged parts and most everyone would have discussed the incident for a few minutes then started filtering out the door and the bar would have emptied out in a hurry. That is except for me.
I don’t know why I would have stayed behind. I must have been drunk past the point of sensible thinking and wasn’t ready to go home. Instead I got up from the table and stumbled over to the bar.
I don’t know how long I sat there and don’t have a firm memory of even going over there but I remember sitting at the bar for a period of time and the only persons I saw there with me were the two people behind the bar and both of them had their eyes fixed on me.
I probably glanced up at the clock a time or two, which was above the bar directly in front of me. And at some point would have seen the short hand on the one and the long hand on the six. But if I did, it didn’t change my thinking or alter my pattern of behavior because I continued to sit there and ordered another beer.
Some more time passed with me switching my gaze around the empty room and back to the bar and from one of the two sets of anxious eyes to the other. But I still didn’t get it. Those two people were ready to leave and my presence was the only thing that kept them from doing just that.
Finally I struggled to my feet and requested a bill and was told it had been taken care of. I offered to pay anyway but was shown the door instead and finally exited the bar to the parking lot outside.
I have always thought of myself as being different than most when I am drinking. That is – as I have already stated – I don’t get into fights and I don’t drive fast. But the two individuals standing at the entrance to the bar would not have known that and both of them appeared overly concerned that an individual was leaving their property drunk, after drinking their alcohol, also an individual that was in no shape to be driving home, regardless of the distance. And there were a good fifteen miles between the open door where the two individuals stood and the door to my house. That distance included a narrow bridge over the Arkansas River, the town of Bixby and a number of dark, shadowy and lonely back roads that connected my house to all the above.
I glanced back through the window in the open van door toward the bar before entering the cab of my van and heard one of them yell out to me, “Are you going to be alright?”
I had failed at my first attempt to get in the van and paused before making a second attempt and glanced again back toward the bar. “Yes,” I yelled back, all the while gripping the steering wheel with one hand and the door rest with the other and struggled into the seat and closed the door, then continued but not loud enough that they could hear me, “yes, I am going to be all right.”
As I slowly backed the van away from the bar and pulled out into the street, I kept the windows up because it was cold outside and I didn’t know the condition of the roads. Also in my mind I thought it would be best to stay on the back roads until reaching the river then I would have to head over to Memorial to catch the bridge there.
Afterward, I don’t know how much time had passed, but I remember driving south on Sheridan Road at five miles per hour – a mile east of the bar and a mile west of Memorial Drive – when I had this very intense urge to spit. But I also knew enough not to just roll the window down and hang my head out the opening. I was learned enough to know that if I did that at any speed, I would be in the ditch before I could get my head back around to the front and gather what bearings I had at the moment and refocus on the road.
Well, as I explained above, I am different than most so what I did next was to roll the window down real slow, all the while maintaining a steady eye contact on the road, then at the last moment turned my head to the side and spit out the window then jerked my head back to the front as quickly as I could.
Twenty years later I was telling the story to Jack Lewis, a friend and coworker at the cement plant in Pryor, when Jack butted in, “You weren’t drunk!” He shouted.
I stopped and glared at him, “What do you mean, I wasn’t drunk?”
“Well, you would have spit in your face!” Lewis declared.
Hearing his statement, I was even more puzzled, “What do you mean…spit in my face?”
“Well, you would have just thought the window was down!” Jack said, finally.
I learned just recently that Jack got up early one morning some years ago and drove a Ford Falcon pickup to a bar and parked it outside. Unknowing to him, his wife drove up there in a second automobile, a small Chevrolet coupe and exchanged vehicles with him, planning to take the pickup to the shop for some scheduled maintenance.
Later Jack left the bar and got into the car, so drunk he didn’t realize the two automobiles had been changed and drove the Chevrolet home.
Later, when Jack didn’t say anything about the automobiles being switched, his wife asked him if he had been to a bar that morning. Of course Jack denied it and his wife asked him again. “Jack, I am only going to ask this you one more time. Did you go to a bar this morning?”
The conversation went back and forth for a minute before Jack’s wife finally told him she had switched automobiles on him and he was so drunk he hadn’t noticed. Knowing that about Jack, I didn’t doubt he knew where I was coming from and I had to restate my position.
Ok! So I wasn’t that drunk. But even then I found myself out in the ditch and over corrected – even at five miles per hour – before finally getting the van straightened up and back in the right hand lane.
The next thing I remember was knocking on the front door of my house near 191st and Yale and grinning from ear to ear, expressing a term of endearment to my wife, saying, “Hi Sugar!”
I don’t remember ever being in that situation again and was one lucky guy for not driving off into the river or something worse, such as crashing into another vehicle or being thrown into the drunk-tank for driving while intoxicated.
Hell, I don’t even remember crossing the Arkansas River Bridge north of Bixby or Marie’s response to my ill prepared early morning greeting. But somehow I made it home and I suppose without incident but even that is open to debate.
The following poem was written several years after the fact. But it takes into account my thoughts while sitting at the bar with just the three of us there: the barmaid, the guy that stayed around or showed up at the last minute to take her home – and me. And that is where I came up with the saying, There Are Always Three People At Closing.
Through the years I have grown up and been learning
About the facts of life going down
I have been married two times and divorced once
So in between and before I got around
It seems that the way to get girls was
To make a visit to the local watering hole
There belly up to the bar and get noticed
At least that was what I have always been told
So as soon as I was old enough to get started
I walked in and flashed my ID around
Then strolled up to the bar to place my order
And looked around for the girls to be found
All I saw were two men at the shuffleboard
And two more playing pool by the door
An old guy sipping suds in the corner
And a lone female waitress on the floor
No one else seemed interested in her so
I thought, what the hell? and told her my name
Ordered a draft from the well if it’s cold and
Thought, “boy, this is easy and what a game.”
So I drank four or five tall cool ones
And was really getting to know her by now
When the old man from over in the corner
Climbed the bar stool to my left and sit down
He slurred a few words to me about
His times on the road and all around
He told me his life was one big hustle
And the way I was doing it wasn’t sound
He said, “son I have been doing this for years and
I haven’t ever got a barmaid alone
There have always been three people at closing
Me, the barmaid and another guy that shows up to take her home.”
“Ah!” I said, “You don’t know what you’re saying!”
So he got up and left me for his own
I looked around and the barmaid was smiling
That shored me up and I was glad the old man was gone
I looked up at the clock and it was winding
To the time and I thought again, boy this is fun
I glanced around to the old man in the corner
And he was gone – I guess his day was done
I turned round as the back door was opening
Being so late I thought it must be a bum
Drank the last from my glass and it’s empty
Then saw a man and thought, where’d he come from?
Then I thought of the old man in the corner
And his stories about round closing time
So I looked around and counted all the patrons
Found there’s me, him and her looking fine
So I got up to leave the game was over
And staggered out to my truck in the cold
Disappointed, I thought of the old man in the corner
And what he said, that there are always three people at closing
Author: Benjamin Cox
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Electrical Pressure Cooker Online
When looking for a restaurant to please a wide variety of tastes, you need a menu with plenty of choices.
There are times when I know I want steak or fish, and I know the best place to go is our local Good Ole’ Boys restaurant. They have a limited menu and it has not changed in years. You can order steak, catfish, fried shrimp, or a burger. That’s about it. They also have a salad bar.
They do have the best steak and catfish in the area. However, they offer no cocktails or beer of any kind, and not everyone is always in the mood to choose from steak or fish, and sometimes folks are in the mood for a wind down cocktail happy hour.
The restaurant we frequent most often is Buffalo Wild Wings Grill and Bar. It is about 2 miles from us, and their menu is loaded with choices allowing something for everyone, including kids.
They offer several different types of appetizers, buffalo wild wings, wraps, tenders, several different salads, ribs, shrimp, fish, nachos, potato skins, delicious burgers, buffalitos, flatbreads, sandwiches, pulled pork, garlic mushrooms, shoestring fries, queso chili fries, mini corn dogs, mozzarella sticks, quesadillas, onion rings, potato wedges, cheeseburger slammers, and more.
They offer daily lunch specials in our area, and two nights a week they have wing night specials as well.
Their happy hour offers great drink discounts. They offer standard and specialty cocktails along with several different beers on tap and in bottles, including domestics and imports.
Our particular Buffalo Wild Wings is non-smoking due to local city ordinances, so the entire family can enjoy a great atmosphere, delicious food, and without inhaling second hand smoke.
Buffalo Wild Wings is a sports bar, so there are televisions everywhere. You can play poker and other video games right at your table with controllers they provide. You can also enjoy other games such as pinball and arcade style amusements.
You can eat at the bar, in the bar area, or at several tables throughout the large establishment. If you prefer dining al fresco, they can accommodate that as well.
They open early and close late, so if you get a late night hunger strike, you can visit them for a delicious snack or meal.
The food and drinks are affordable, and there is something for everyone, including finicky eaters.
They also sell their bottled wing sauces and they offer several different flavors with varying degrees of heat. We keep BWW sauce on hand for a variety of homemade dishes, including our own version of the buffalo chicken wrap.
My personal favorite meal there is the buffalo grilled chicken tender wrap with shoestring fries and a tall cold draft beer. If you get a chance to visit Buffalo Wild Wings Grill and Bar, give it a try. Enjoy!
Author: Laura Maness Brown
Article Source: EzineArticles.com
Electrical Pressure Cooker Online
