The Smell of Stale Beer

I miss sleazy bars.  I miss the smell of stale beer and the tinny music from a jukebox.  I miss the clack of the cue ball against carefully racked balls.  I miss the camaraderie, the cheap brew, the taste of soggy pretzels, and the sweat-permeated ambiance of a neighborhood bar.  I never was much of a drinker, although I’ve had my moments.  But I loved the socialization of bars where, well, “everyone knows your name.” 

What brought this train of thought about was a visit last week to B.L.U.E.S. on Halsted(1), a legendary blues bar not far from where I live.  I’ve been there before, usually to hear my friend Rob Stone perform, as was the case this time.  But for some reason, this visit brought back a stream of memories of all those bars I’ve hung out in over the years--and rarely go to now.

The ugly truth of the matter is that being old makes the bar experience far less fun than it used to be.  One becomes invisible anywhere, once one reaches a certain age; in a bar it’s even worse.  I have occasionally, since moving to Chicago, accompanied younger folk to bars, but I just would not go on my own any more.  Even at B.L.U.E.S., I was with my young friends Geri and Carolyn.  I’ve even been there with former students.  But never by myself.  And I miss those days.

One must move on . . .

As for B.L.U.E.S., it’s a great place to hear Chicago style blues.  I encourage you to go there.  Last Tuesday (area residents get in without a cover charge on Tuesdays), as I say, I went to hear Rob Stone(2).  But while there he was joined by the magnificent Big Time Sarah(3), who sang at B.L.U.E.S. on the night it opened in 1979.  Truly a legend.  But if you’re a prude, stay away!  She is  down and dirty.

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1. http://www.wineandleisure.com/sweethomechicago/blues/index.html
2. http://www.robstone.com/index.html
3. http://www.wineandleisure.com/blueswebchicago/bigtimesarah.html