One last question

Why do I order Angry Orchard?*
Really, a better question would be, “Why has someone who doesn’t really like to drink been writing a blog about visiting bars?”

Understand, I’m not saying I don’t like to drink at all. Countless warm days I’ve filled up a glass at the tap and said, “Hmmm, that water’s good stuff.” But alcoholic drinks… I’ve never been a fan. I’ve told the story here about growing up in Sonoma County, wine country. People would come to visit my parents and we’d all go on the winery tours. My brother and I hated those tours. Dale and I agreed that when we grew up we would not drink. Dale has stuck with that commitment. I, on the other hand, made a commitment to drink in a different bar every week for three years.

Toward the end of 2014, Mindy and I began an adventure of visiting a different church every week, and we began making plans to visit a church in every state in 2016. Mindy and I grew up going to church every week (her dad is a retired pastor), and we know that pastors hate it when people joke that they work only one day a week. Even though we figured we'd be visiting churches more than just on Sundays on our big adventure, we needed something else to do during our week in each state.

So what else could we do? We thought of going to the movies in every state (and, as it turned out, we did that). Someone suggested we go to antique stores in every state, an idea that appealed to us in no way whatsoever. We thought about going bowling in every state and never threw a ball down an alley the entire trip.

We knew we wanted to talk to people, preferably people who might not be the same folks we met in churches every week. Diners were suggested. If you imagine those diners in movies where farmers gather early in the morning for coffee and town gossip, yeah, that would be fun. (Mindy’s dad was an advocate for this plan when he heard about the bar idea.) But we didn’t really want to interrupt strangers’ meals. 

When we thought of going to a bar along with a church in every state, it just sounded right. When we told people the idea, they would sometimes laugh. Sometimes laugh a lot, and that seemed right. As we thought about it, we realized that bars were places we could find in every state. Big cities and small towns, urban, rural, suburban -- almost all of them have places to drink and places to worship.

And churches and bars are the two places where it's acceptable come in as strangers and talk to people. Sure, some churches and bars aren’t friendly, but in bars and churches, in every part of the country, people were willing -- even eager -- to talk to us. They made us feel welcome. 

We had wonderful conversations with strangers in both churches and bars, but as a rule, we discovered conversations tended to go longer and a little deeper in bars than in churches. Bars are designed for conversations, and churches aren’t.

Back to the beverages, though. A woman at a Southern Baptist Church in Florida asked me, “You don’t order alcohol, do you?” 

I told her that of course, we ordered alcohol. We always asked two questions at our bars; “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what makes for a good church?” When you even mention church in a bar with a glass of water in your hand, people are suspicious, wondering if you're there to convert them. (At the bar in Florida, someone did ask what we were drinking, and not because they wanted to order us another round.)

We didn’t go into bars to proselytize. We went to bars to listen to people. We honestly wanted to know the answers to our two questions. We were pretty sure people were more likely to talk to us if we all had drinks in our hands -- because that’s how bars work.

So what drinks would we have in our hands? We’ve mentioned many times here that Mindy and I hate beer. We tried a variety of beers on the trip and we were never won over. Wine, on the other hand, is something Mindy enjoys. She worked in the wine industry for a few years and cultivated an appreciation for the charms and subtleties of reds and whites. I like wine better than beer, but I still just endured it.

Some bartenders made cocktails we loved. Some bartenders made wonders with fruit and herbs and even chocolate, but still, I often thought I'd enjoy a virgin version of the cocktail just as well. I often ordered rum and coke, but I'd often think, “I’d enjoy a Coke just as much, if not more”.

But I knew I liked apple cider, so when I really didn’t want to think long and hard about what to order, Angry Orchard was an easy and generally available go to. And I would usually finish my drink (which never happened with beer and didn't usually happen with anything else).

The thing is, it was never about the drinks. It was always about people.

*This is the last post for this blog. All the old posts will be available here for the short term, but in the long term, old posts will be available at DeanandMindy.com. Of course, we’d also love for you to buy the book about our quest to visit a bar and church in every state. Cheers and Amen is available at Amazon in paperback and Kindle.

We walk into a dark bar on a dark night

Alchemy, Seattle, Washington (West Seattle)
“A place that’s quiet and dark; where you can drink whiskey in a cracked glass.” According to Scott, one of the bartenders at Alchemy, that’s something people look for in a bar. He’s right, of course. (It’s possible not everybody wants to drink out of a cracked glass. More research may be required.)

Dark is something many people appreciate in a bar. Alchemy keeps things dim, with artificial (and a few real) candles above and behind bottles behind the bar providing most of the light. When we ask people what they like in a bar, we have often hear “dark dives.” You’d think that in Seattle this time of year (with the sun up at half-past seven and down at half-past four) we’d have had enough of darkness, but it’s still appealing. Mindy said she liked the place just after we came in.

“Darkness” is fine when we’re talking literally. If someone says they’re “in a dark place,” you hope they’re talking literally rather than metaphorically. When the Bible talks about people “loving the darkness rather than the light,” I don’t think it’s condemning those who don’t have lots of lamps in the house. I talked with another of the bartenders, Dev, about how pleasant these rainy days are for those of us who need to sleep during the day, and I don’t think Scripture was condemning those of us who are vocationally nocturnal.

Both people we asked “What makes for a good bar” said “atmosphere.” And there does seem to be a strong correlation for many people between dim lighting and atmosphere. Alchemy has much more going for it than low wattage, though.

The hostess greeted us cheerily when we entered. She offered us a table but pointed the way to empty seats when we said we preferred the bar. Dev, the other bartender, poured us water before we even asked, which is a strong positive in our book. He gave us menus with a happy hour flyer on top, and he told us the food specials.

I ordered the “Death of the Hipster” cocktail, and Mindy chose “East of Eden.” We ordered the deviled eggs as well. Dev accidentally prepared “At Six and Sevens” for me and apologized that he was working a bit on autopilot. I was pleasantly surprised by the bits of bacon in the eggs (they were emphatically not Bac’n Bits).

The man sitting next to me at the bar asked about my drink, and I gave a favorable review. Mindy was soon chatting with the man sitting next to her. Even more than the proper aperture in a bar, we appreciate people feel free to talk to each other, often encouraged by bartenders. That was certainly true of Alchemy while we were there. We found it easy to ask our two questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what do you think would make for a good church?”

The guy next to Mindy asked to be referred to as “Travelin’ Man,” who said a good bar had atmosphere and a good bartender. He added that it should have a variety of choices for food and drink. When Mindy asked what he meant by atmosphere, he said, “distinctive character.” He said that sports bars are basically all the same, but “this bar, they have a theme going on.”

She asked him what he thought made for a good church. “Since I’m not a Christian anymore, I’d say a Buddhist church.” He added, “Religion is man-made in my opinion.” Organized religion has been “a mixed bag used for good and bad for centuries.”

Dev was able to take a moment for our questions, too. For the bar, he said, “Atmosphere is everything. If everyone is rushing and stressed, I’m not going to hang out there. Right when you go in, you can tell how the restaurant is ‘breathing.’” He noted that Scott has said, “How can everyone else (the guests) have a good time if you (the staff) aren’t having a good time?” As for what makes for a good church, he said, “Innovation, more embracing of modern times for a modern world, that would be an attractive church.”

We’d finished our eggs and our drinks, so it was time to go back home. As we left into dark Seattle, the hostess said, “See you again?”

Mindy said, “Hope so.”

She said, “That would be lovely!” And it would be.

We walk into a family-friendly taproom

Ounces Taproom and Beer Garden, Seattle, Washington
“West Seattle has great beer bars, but not a lot with a great that list that’s family friendly. Why not create our own thing that checks all the boxes?”

Laurel, who owns Ounces Taproom and Beer Garden with her husband Andrew, was expanding on her answer to my question about what makes a good bar. She’d already told me that for her, the overall experience “from the time you walk in,” is important for a good bar. They were working in the corporate world, and to relieve stress, they visited a lot of local breweries trying to find just the right place.

They decided to make a place that had what they were looking for: friendly staff, lots of options on tap, an overall well-rounded experience. And for National IPA Day this past Thursday, they substituted free hot dogs for the usual food trucks (there was still a truck presence, though. Amazon’s Treasure Truck made an appearance just before the hot dogs were ready, and people who’d come for the day’s special buy stayed for a drink and a dog.)

While Andrew grilled the dogs, Laurel filled the buns and chatted with customers. When one man asked how much, she told him the hot dogs were free. He wondered if tipping was possible, and she pointed him toward the tip jar inside the taproom. During a lull, I asked Laurel what she thought would make a good church.

“I would imagine it’s the same kind of community,” she said. “The conversation’s a little different, maybe.”

More people came to get hot dogs, so I thanked her and told Dean I was going inside to talk to the woman who’d taken our drink orders. I’d been looking forward to asking her our questions since I saw her praising a small child for being so polite while ordering milk. (Milk seemed to be a popular choice for pairing with hot dogs. I’d heard at least one other kid order it while I waited).

Sarah only had a moment between customers, but she told me that a good bar was “totally wherever you feel comfortable.” She said she didn’t go to church, “so I don’t know on that.”

Dean had ordered lemonade; I had rose, and Bret had The Brute, a hard apple cider from Alter Ego in Portland. Sarah let us taste P51 Peanut Butter Cup porter from Wingman Brewers in Tacoma, too, and I had to admit it was better with hot dogs than rose.

Families with little kids weren’t the only customers. I recognized a few people who’d gotten off the bus from downtown Seattle with me. Bike riders and dog walkers stopped by, and some people seem to have come through the handy gate leading to a neighborhood just downhill from the taproom.

Laurel said they do a lot of one-off events, like the customer appreciation hot dogs we enjoyed, as well as providing space for a rotation of food trucks, various bike rides, weekly trivia nights, and other community based events. As one guy said as he tried to decide what to order, “So many choices!”

It was impressive to visit a bar that truly had something for everyone.

We walk to the neighborhood bar

Chelan Cafe's Ebb Tide Room, Seattle, Washington
It’s great to be able to walk to a bar. It’s an even better thing to be able to walk home from a bar. This is our second week in Seattle, we moved into a duplex near the West Seattle Bridge on the Fourth of July. We live along the Duwamish Waterway, and from our front porch we can see the Seattle skyline. And Ebb Tide is a bar we can walk to.

Chelan Cafe looks like an all American diner in the front of the building, while the bar, the Ebb Tide Room, is off to the side. You can enter the bar either through the cafe (that’s what we did) or through the door on the side of the building. The bar has a lot of maritime decor, like lanterns, a ship captain’s wheel, pirate flags, and a big “Port of Seattle” sign. Almost as prominent, though, is the other decor theme: the Seattle Seahawks. The number 12, the jersey number which the NFL team retired in honor of the fans (“the twelfth man” playing for the team), is displayed in several places.

But it’s baseball season now, so the Mariners were on TV (not doing well against the Rockies). Another TV showed poker games. Plenty of people were sitting at tables, and the front part of the bar was full, so we found seats toward the back of the bar, then hesitated in confusion when Mindy saw a plaque on the bar in front of her seat saying the spot was reserved. The bartender assured us that we could sit there. We meant to ask about it, but forgot as we decided what we wanted to drink.

Mindy ordered a screwdriver, and I got an Ace Cider (from Graton, California). The bartender gave us food menus. We’d just had dinner at home, so we didn’t plan to order food, but the bartender looked kind of sad and said, “They’re closing soon, but they don’t mind. I told them you were here.”

We ordered onion rings. They were very hot and crisp when they arrived a few minutes later.

A couple of men sat at the bar next to me. After Mike and Jones got their cans of Guinness, I asked if they’d mind answering the two questions we always ask in bars. They agreed.

When I asked what made for a good bar, Mike said, “Good people is the biggest thing, just there to shoot the sh*t.” He said they came to have a good time, talking to people like he was that night. He felt that people were looking for a change of pace from a day at work.

I asked him how important a good selection of drinks was and he didn’t feel it was very important. He likes good whiskey, but there aren’t many places around that have really good bourbon.

Jones agreed, saying a good bar needed, “Good bar conversations. If no one talks to you, they turn their backs, it’s not comfortable.” I asked him if it mattered what those conversations were about. He didn’t think so, though the conversations would often be about sports.

When I asked our second question, Jones said, “Church serves a similar purpose as a bar, a community, a social network.”

Mike said, “I don’t want to sound cynical, but I’ll never go to a church. My mom was kicked out when she was divorced. The people she thought were her friends gave her a cold shoulder. My sister was really religious, but the same thing happened to her.” He said he believes in a Higher Power, but he’ll never go to church. One time Mormons came to his door, and when he told them his point of view, they were dumbfounded. They left, leaving literature behind.

We talked for a while longer, then paid and got up to leave. Jones caught me at the door, because I’d left my notebook and pen behind. I thanked him, and then Mindy and I enjoyed the eight-minute walk home in the pleasant evening light and the very pleasant weather, with the pleasant knowledge that we could always walk back.