NYCBP Blog

Man, this wonderful song is growing on me. I am sure a lot of the story will sound familiar to a lot of us. Just keep your cell phones charged up.

By the way, does anyone know which bar is featured in the street scene?

Labels: bars, Last Call, Lee Ann Womack

Pretty funny to see your bartender appearing in a music video. Carmit is the girl in this music video. Looks like it was shot at Soldier Magee too. The band is Jerry Cherry. The video was directed by Josh Franer.

Labels: bartenders, video

Regardless of which holiday you celebrate (or, for people like me, don’t), you can’t help being bombarded this time of year by armies of Santa Clauses, usually seeking a bailout, and from you.

Did you ever wonder where the hell all this money goes? Have you ever received a detailed accounting of who gets what from your handouts? And are you now or have you ever been just a tad suspicious that this “goodwill to all” stuff is merely another scam or racket, just like the stock market?

I was ruminating about just such things the other night at The Patriot Saloon, where I somehow ended up after being a guest on Joey Reynolds’s late night radio talk show on WOR. As I was sitting there, enjoying the lovely Jessica tending bar, and talking with a bunch of old friends who are fellow survivors of Yogi’s, I noticed another one of these Santa guys standing in the bar.

Now, I always wondered why his nose was flaming red, but now I had ironclad, documentary proof: Santa is a big fat boozer, and we caught him red-nosed and red-handed at The Patriot with a beer can in his hand.

So next time one of his cronies tries to bum some dough from you, just ask him if he wants a can or a bottle, laugh, and then walk away. Then go to the nearest dive bar, and if I’m there, buy me a cold one. At least you’ll know where your money went, and, after I hit the can, that while it was in the end flushed down the drain, it was put to good use.

(Photos by Eddie Goldman.)

Labels: beer, dive bars, Eddie Goldman, Patriot Saloon, Santa Claus

A few months ago, we started to chronicle the doings of veteran bartender Lauren. She had just started working at Yogi’s shortly before the real estate sharks destroyed it, and after the bar where she had worked for six years, Fubar, had physically been destroyed by a crane collapse.

More recently, I ran into her Sunday night at The Patriot Saloon, where for that one night she was filling in. But she does now have two regular shifts: Wednesday nights at The Duck, and Friday nights at The Patriot. So go see her, somewhere, anywhere, as often as you can.

Now you really have no excuse ever to stay home!

Labels: beer, dive bars, Lauren, Patriot Saloon, The Duck

Labels: Alyssa, beer, dive bars, Doc Holliday’s, Eddie Goldman

I guess turkey day is the start of what is called the holiday season. That is what all these incessant advertisements and commercials have been insisting, and they wouldn't lie, would they?

For some, this time of year is a busy one, pre-programmed to carry out shopping and all sorts of other rituals. The creative tendencies, whether produced by DNA, experience good and bad, or, more likely, some equation involving the two, tend to get overwhelmed or even crushed in this seasonal onslaught of conformity and commercialism.

Such a time is particularly difficult for those among us who think and, more to the point, act independently. Convention, custom, fashion, and the like count for naught to many of us, unless they can be shown to make sense, to be proved so.

But we, the independent and thinking folk, are a minority. Some of that is by economic necessity, as any economic system will not reward its outsiders.

So what do we do, while the prevailing mores, prejudices, and fears are utilized and manipulated to marginalize us? Sure, we all fight back in our own ways, to varying degrees of effectiveness. But alas, we are also very human, fallible, and emotionally vulnerable, too.

In the meantime, while the existing dumbness prevails, we need to feed our minds and spirits. What the dominant institutions cannot provide our critical minds, we find elsewhere, in the public houses, taverns, barrooms, and honky tonks. These crazy places may be our best refuge from all this insanity. Our problems may not be solved there, but our hearts and minds can be recharged so we can not only survive this season, but continue to go against the tide.

For us NYCBP'ers, this has become a harder task with the closure of so many of our bars like Yogi's this year. But they are still out there, so don't hesitate to free yourself from all this mindlessness. Have a rowdy good time, but remember to tip well.

Labels: beer, dive bars, Thanksgiving, turkey

So we finally heard from Jimmy Duff about what he is doing with his bar in Billyburg. It is moving about a mile next week. The scoop:

Some facts for ya:

The last night at DUFF'S present location is Saturday, November 29. "Last Call at North 3rd Street" (This location at North 3rd will remain open afterwards as Rock N' Roll dive bar THE BUNKER).

DUFF'S will be opening in our new location the following weekend at 168 Marcy Avenue in South Williamsburg, December 5th and 6th, along with all the DUFF's employees & jukebox. The new location is approximately 1 mile from the current North 3rd Street bar. We hope you'll join for some of the best parties of the year, and thank you for your continued support!!

Labels: bars, bartenders, Brooklyn, drinking, press releases

Wow. Imagine you are drinking at a bar on Amsterdam Avenue, and the next thing you know, your face is on fire? That is apparently what happened to a woman who was at Brother Jimmy's on the Upper West Side, according to a lawsuit detailed in the New York Post. "Lauren Sclafani, 31, says she suffered second- and third-degree burns on her face, arms and hands thanks to the Bacardi 151 stunt at Brother Jimmy's gone terribly wrong."

As "Great Balls of Fire" came on the jukebox, the bartender poured 151-proof rum across the bar and deliberately lit it on fire, according to a lawsuit she filed against the bar. The flame blew back into the bottle, turning it into a "flamethrower," said Sclafani's lawyer, Tom Moore.

"I was just about to leave, and the next thing you know, I'm lit on fire," Sclafani said. "My face was burning, my hands were burning, my clothes were on fire. I was just praying to make it stop."

That is damn horrific. How much do you think she will win? A million? More? Any of you guys ever seen this done at the bar? Red Rock West used to light their bar on fire for KISS' "Heaven's On Fire"... but the bouncers had the good sense to make customers step back 4 feet before the matches came out.

Labels: bartenders, patrons, upper west side