We walk into a bar with a squirrel

The Majestic Bar, Yosemite National Park, California
He kept trying to sneak into the bar, and not once did the bar staff ask for his I.D. I expect they didn’t ask because this was not a human trying to sneak a drink. It was a squirrel. The door to the patio was propped open so the wait staff could easily take food and drinks to the patio tables. I guess wildlife visits are among the many perks of barlife at The Majestic Bar in Yosemite National Park.

For those keeping track, this is our second hotel bar in a row, and as we mentioned last week, hotel bars are a little different than most bars -- especially neighborhood bars. Hotel bars don’t tend to have regulars, but they do tend to have a variety of patrons coming in and out.

Kyle the bartender told us that The Majestic does have regulars, but they visit the bar annually, not weekly (until a few years ago, those regulars went to the Ahwahnee Hotel Bar, but the hotel’s name changed when the concession management changed. The old concessionaire took the storied name with them when they left). But Kyle only knows this from stories he’s heard. He’s only been bartending at the Majestic Bar since January of this year. In fact, he’s only been bartending at all since January (though we’d never have guessed it. He was impressive). Kyle has worked other jobs in the park, at the hotel front desk, as a restaurant host, selling tickets… but now he’s at the bar.

We’ve been living in Fresno, but we’ll be moving to the Seattle area in a few weeks, so we wanted to make one last visit to the national park before we leave. In order to beat the traffic and to get to a couple of worship services in the park (Protestant at Yosemite Valley Chapel and Catholic in the Visitor Center Theater), we left home early. After finding a surprisingly central parking spot (a treasure on a busy summer day), we decided to walk to The Majestic Yosemite Hotel for our picnic lunch.

After eating at a bench over a creek, we went into the hotel and took seats at the bar. There were plenty of seats at the bar, and we heard staff remarking that it was a rather slow day, surprising for a weekend afternoon. There was theorizing about whether it was because it was a Sunday afternoon and people left the park early to get home, or whether people weren’t coming because it was because it was Father’s Day. To our eyes, there were still lots of people in the Valley.

We looked over our menus, which had its share of Yosemite themed cocktails (such as the El Capitini, which we heard described as the “Jolly Rancher of cocktails” because of its sweetness). I went with the Bourbon Baked Apple and Mindy got all fancy with a variation on the Keoki coffee. As a treat for me (Father’s Day has its privileges), I ordered a chocolate chip cookie from the dessert menu.

We once asked an accountant who worked for a bar what features can make a bar more profitable, and he said it always helps to have an inviting patio area. It is hard to imagine a more inviting patio area than one that looks out on the trees and mountains and grandeur of Yosemite National Park. Many people were outside at the tables on the patio enjoying a pleasantly warm day.

A woman who came to the bar to get her drink asked Kyle, “Can I take my drink outside?”

He told her, “You can take it anywhere, even outside. Just don’t leave your glass outside.”

We heard Kyle ask for eggs from the kitchen when he had an order for a couple of Ramos Fizzes. After he’d made up the very pretty drinks, he sent them out, and the waitress came back right away with an order for more. “I made that drink too good! Other people are ordering it,” he said. He let us try a sample, and it was delicious.

Many people ordered drinks at the bar, but they didn’t stay there to enjoy them, so we knew if we were going to ask our standard bar questions, we’d have to ask the staff. So we asked Kyle, “What makes for a good bar?” and for the first time in a long time, we got a completely new answer: “Not having a slope at the edge of the bar.”

The wooden bar at the Majestic is elegant, but the stylish slant on the customer’s side is somewhat hazardous to beverages. The staff warns everyone, but a drink goes down at least once a week.

We can certainly endorse the rest of Kyle’s answer, which we’ve heard more often. “Good people, good workers, makes the day go by.” Kyle was busy doing his job for a while before he could tell us what he thought made a good church. He answered, “Same thing, the people.”

We also asked Rachelle, one of the servers, our questions. She said she likes a divey bar, so atmosphere matters. “The locals make for a good bar. They’re chatty, you find out everything that’s going on.” Her father goes to a bar in Wallace, Idaho, a mining town. Everyone gets a free drink after a shift. Some stop at one drink, but enough go on to make the free drink worthwhile for the bar’s bottom line. It’s one of her favorite bars in the world.

As for what makes for a good church, Rachelle said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve gone,” but after some thought she added, “A place that’s accepting and loving and gives back to the community.” She said, “But that’s hard to find.” And Kyle agreed.

Of course, we’ve found churches like that. As we’ve found bars like that. We have a little more church and bar experience than most people, and we wrote a book about it. But if you should have to choose between buying our book and going to Yosemite National Park, I’d recommend Yosemite.

We (finally) walk into a hotel bar

Atrium Lounge, DoubleTree by Hilton, Fresno, California
Drinks to go are usually not a bar thing. It’s pretty common to see signs near the door that say, “No Alcohol Beyond This Point.” At this bar, though, those signs are missing, and people taking drinks to their rooms is an everyday event. That’s one of the many things that make a hotel bar different than other bars.

I’ve wanted to write about this particular bar since September, but I couldn’t write about the Atrium Lounge while I was an employee of the DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel where the bar resides. As an employee, I wasn’t supposed to frequent the bar (certainly a very sensible rule), and I worked night audit, starting just as the bartenders were finishing up. Because it’s in the lobby, surrounded by guest rooms, the bar can’t stay open too late; there’s always a balance between guests celebrating cheerily (and, often, noisily) with libations and guests trying to get a good night’s sleep. But since I no longer work there, visiting the bar is acceptable.

The bar is usually populated by business people relaxing after a long day of work or travel. Sometimes it’s a visiting baseball team celebrating a win over the Fresno Grizzlies, or concert goers enjoying a nightcap after a show at the convention center next door. When a religious group is hosting a retreat at the hotel, often the bar’s business goes down (though they make it up a bit with drinks ordered through room service).

On occasion while I was working at the hotel desk, I’d get complaints from the rooms about loud folks at the bar. Usually in a bar you don’t need to hush people, but this is a different kind of place. Another thing that makes it different is the waterfall. Most bars don’t have three-story indoor waterfalls.

We went on a Tuesday night, and the bar was full, so we sat at one of the tables. I knew the bar staff: Brandon was tending bar and Kasandra was waiting tables. In the past, we’d often chatted as their shifts ended and mine began.

Mindy and I were ready to order more generic drinks, but after we took a look at the menu, I ordered a “Big Black Cow… And Get Out of Here” (just because of the name) and Mindy ordered a “Blossom Trail Martini.”

Though they were busy, but Kasandra and Brandon took time to answer the two questions we always ask at bars, “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what would make for a good church?”

After serving us our drinks, Kasandra said, “I think you need an attentive staff. People who can talk about anything.” Servers in a bar may need to discuss a wide range of topics, from what there is to do in town to the game playing on the TV. (By the way, sadly, the Oakland A’s were not playing well on the TV). She added that a bar should be, “Clean with good stock, an assortment for everybody.”

I asked her what she liked about working in this bar in particular. She’s worked in other hospitality locations and at a casino, but she said she loves it at the DoubleTree because of the people. She also appreciates that it is an open space. “The front desk is right there, and there are cameras.” It does make for a secure working environment. She also appreciates the variety of guests, “there are business people, sports people, families. There's more in the world than your hometown.”

As for what makes for a good church, she said, “Acceptance. You want to walk in and be with other people on their spiritual journeys, not judging or shaming. And love that isn’t just a front, but you can feel it.”

As we finished our drinks, we noticed there were a couple of seats open at the bar, so we went up to chat with Brandon. According to him, a good bar has “A couple of things. I’m not sure what the word is… It’s not entertainment, but it’s where you can find a good conversation.” He’s worked in holes-in-the-wall, nice restaurants, nightclubs (you don’t find those good conversations in nightclubs, he pointed out). He said the word he wanted meant something about individuals in the same place looking to talk together.

He explained that a hotel bar is different from a neighborhood bar. In a hotel bar, the travelers are often business people who, if they want to have a conversation, have to be willing to talk to strangers. “At this bar, there are people from all over the country, from all over the world.”

Neighborhood bars, he said, draw people from different walks of life, but they know each other. You might have people who don’t drink anymore, but still come and have their O’Douls or a soda.

It took time to get Brandon to answer the second question, primarily because he was busy. I asked for one word for what made for a good church. He said “acceptance.” (I’m pretty sure he didn’t overhear Kasandra.) He said these days you have to understand other people’s beliefs, but everyone shares the same core values, they’re just expressed differently.

We’re planning to move out of the Fresno area in the next few weeks, but it was nice to be able to visit my old workplace as a guest -- even though it was a little annoying that they seem to be doing just fine without me.

We write instead of drink

Drinking Writers
“Why do writers drink so much?” Dr. Lawrence Samuels asked in a January article in Psychology Today. I can only answer for myself, but it would be very difficult to write a blog about bars without drinking in those bars -- so I need to have at least one drink every week.

Yeah, it’s quite a pace to keep up.

Samuels lists a number of writers who had drinking problems, from the father of American alcoholic writers, Edgar Allen Poe, to Zelda’s true love F. Scott Fitzgerald; from my favorite mystery writer, Raymond Chandler to the Queen of Snark, Dorothy Parker; from lowercase poet E.E. Cummings to depressing playwright Eugene O'Neill; and so many more. Not that I, Dean Anderson, should be compared to these great writers, but my name *is* right there in the same paragraph. I think you can draw your own conclusion.

“Hey,” you might be saying, “Those people wrote whole books, not just short blog posts.”

First of all, imaginary outspoken reader, may I correct you? Some of those writers were playwrights. Others were poets. They weren’t necessarily writing “books.” In addition, I’m pleased to share the good news that we finally have a book, not just a bunch of blogs.

Cheers and Amen, the book about our year-long attempt to visit a bar and a church in every state, will be available on Amazon well before Independence Day. In preparation, we'll be reading, selling, and signing copies at two bars in Sonoma County, Dukes in Healdsburg (Monday, June 18 at 7:00 pm) and Final Edition in Santa Rosa (Tuesday, June 19 at 7:00 pm). 

Sadly, though, working on the book’s finishing touches kept us from going to a bar this week. Dr. Samuels, does your research have any explanation for this? Writing kept us from drinking this week. We’re willing to make sacrifices for you.

Not to worry, we’ll be going to a new bar next week (in a state other than California!), and we expect to visit new bars all month. You might be a little torn, though. We know you’ll want to get started reading Cheers and Amen.

We sneak into a speakeasy

The Library at Detention, Fresno, California
“I hope people who’ve been (to bars) in New York, San Francisco, and Las Vegas will also say, ‘How about that place in Fresno?’” That’s what John, a bartender at The Library at Detention, would like to be true of this bar in the Tower district of Fresno.

It’s a speakeasy, so there’s some effort involved in a visit to The Library. You need a reservation. To get into the bar, you have to enter Detention, an entirely reputable pool hall, pass the bar, and open a locker. If you remembered the instructions and opened the correct locker, the whole bank of lockers swings open, and if you have the password (I suspect it’s always the title of a book), you’re allowed to enter what may (or may not) be a secret passage to the stairway leading to the bar. You should have a hardcover book for the library, and you should have followed the dress code: business or business casual. I went with my best black t-shirt; Mindy went with pearls.

We walked up the stairway and down the hallway and into the library. Nobody was sitting at the bar at the moment, so we sat down towards one end and studied both the menus (one skinny with no prices and another full-sized one with more selections and prices). Many of the drinks were Fresno-themed (Tower District), others had literary themes (Jane Austen, anyone?). We chose ours mostly for the flavors rather than the names -- I ordered a Basil Honey Lemonade, and Mindy went with a Whiskey Smash with Raspberries. Bryce the bartender smashed the basil for my lemonade with a clap of the hands and said, “You have to kill it to bring it to life.” We didn’t notice as much smashing for Mindy’s Smash, but the drinks were delicious.

The bartenders provide entertainment, and not just with a Tom Cruise Cocktail shake and juggle. They made drinks that used flame and smoke (and really, nothing entertains like fire). When the flaming drinks were made, lights went down. The lights are constantly brightening and dimming as part of the speakeasy motif; management had considered staging raids on the bar as part of the Prohibition theme, but as John noted, on an average night it’s likely one of the guests would have a concealed carry license. You don’t want to risk that kind of surprise.

The decor plays up the Prohibition theme, too. Along with pictures of flappers and Al Capone, there is a (replica?) Tommy Gun behind the bar. Dixieland and other jazz music plays relatively softly. The bar opened last December as one room, but since it was doing so well, a wall was knocked down to add space. The second room is the library section with a wall of books that I assume were donated. A 1927 silent film, Downhill (directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring The Lodger’s Ivor Novello), was playing on the wall. In addition to the bar seating, comfy chairs in both rooms are arranged for quiet conversation.

Anne and Adrian sat down at the bar just after we did. It was their first time in The Library, too, and Anne had been concerned they might not be allowed in because they were in jeans (“but I’m wearing a camo shirt, so I’m invisible.”) They’d heard about the Library from friends and saw positive reviews on Yelp. They were able to make last minute reservations. We talked a bit about Fresno bars and then asked if they were willing to answer our two bar questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what would make for a good church?”

Anne said she looks for “a good bartender. Strong drinks.” She said she doesn’t go to church, “but what would make for a good church is if it’s welcoming.”

Adrian said for a bar, “depends on the occasion. On a Thursday, low key, like this; quiet, not pretentious.” In a church, he looks for “consistency” and “standards.”

Before we left, Bryce asked us to consider writing a positive Yelp review. He suggested putting in a good word for the other bartender, John, and for the owner, Tim Ferrigan, who had the vision for creating this kind of place in Fresno. Bryce said he liked that at The Library, people weren’t staring at their phones or a TV screen. And they didn’t come to get drunk. People come for a unique experience. I think The Library is doing a good job providing that.

Mindy flies into a bar

FAT>SEA>ORD>IND>LAX>SEA>FAT
If you’ve been reading this blog any length of time, you know that Dean and I aren’t what you might call big drinkers. Some weeks, just finding a bar is a big effort, so it was kind of a relief when I remembered that by hanging out in airport terminals for two days (somehow, it took three planes each way to get me from Fresno to Indianapolis and back) finding a bar to write about would be easy.

I was mostly right. Bars were certainly easy to find.

I left from Fresno on a Tuesday evening, and  John Muir Tavern at FAT was busy. So busy that there weren’t any seats at the bar. I get whiny about carrying luggage around, and I’d just eaten, so the idea of elbowing my way through the people getting drinks was less than appealing. And if I sat at one of the tables, I wouldn’t be able to talk to anybody -- which is our usual motivation for going to a bar.

I took some photos, found myself a seat in the gate area, and waited for my flight to be announced. I’d have plenty of opportunities to go to a bar in Seattle or Chicago, I told myself.

In Seattle, I noticed several likely looking places, and I had a couple hours to wait...but my carryon bags were just so heavy. Besides, I’d have plenty of time to go to a bar in Chicago.

Yeah, no. Our flight had to wait just outside the gate area because (who knew?) airports shut down if there’s lightning in the area. So we sat through a nice thunderstorm, and my flight to Indianapolis left before I could get to the gate in another terminal. I noted several bars as I raced past, but didn’t dare stop.

The nice agent got me on the next flight to Indianapolis, but it was about to start boarding in a third terminal, a lovely new one about half a mile away. At least that’s what it felt like as I hurried past the first gate, past several more bars, and through a couple long tunnels. By the time I reached the correct gate, it was time to board.

Never mind, I thought. I’ll be in three more airports before I get back to Fresno.

After a good visit with family and friends, I got to Indianapolis International Airport before sunrise, with plenty of time for my early morning flight. Plenty of people were in Champps, the bar just past the security checkpoint, and I particularly noticed one man who’d gone through security at the same time I had. I wondered if he was getting breakfast or a drink.

I didn’t get an answer to that question fifteen minutes or so later when he rushed up to the gate to find his flight had just left. They announced a gate change for my flight, so I didn’t hear what happened after he wailed, “But it’s a soccer team!”

I feared missing my flight -- and it was barely 6:00 am -- so I decided I’d wait until I got to LAX, my next stop. Our flight made good time, and we arrived at the Los Angeles airport shortly after 9:00 am. The gate for my next flight was nearby, there were at least three bars in the immediate vicinity, and I had plenty of time. My carryons weren’t nearly as heavy as they’d been. No more excuses. I went into Osteria to see what they had to offer.

The bar had several seats available. I tried to act casual as I took pictures of the people around me. The couple on my right had laptops open and seemed to be discussing plans over bloody Marys; the person on my left had a beer and breakfast. I ordered a Caprese panini with potato chips...and water.

After inspecting the menu, I’d decided to order my drink on the plane. Drinks there wouldn’t cost much more than Dean and I usually paid at a regular bar, and maybe I could ask the person sitting next to me our usual questions. Maybe I could even keep the tiny liquor bottle as a souvenir.

The robot outside another bar tempted me a little, but the place was a brewpub, and (as we’ve mentioned before) I don’t like beer. On to the next flight (up and over Fresno -- it was confusing).

The part of SeaTac around my gate didn’t seem to have many bars nearby, so I was glad to think of ordering a drink on the plane home. I’d changed my seat from my usual back row, window seat to a window seat in the front of the plane, not noticing that any plane that let me sit up front for the same price as a seat in the back might not be big enough to offer drinks. Once onboard, I stowed my bags in the upper bins -- with my wallet inside.

When the flight attendant came around to take drink orders, I ordered, then realized my money wasn’t just out of reach. Bless her heart, the flight attendant said she’d have to charge me for one of the little liquor bottles, but she could give me wine for free.

It took almost 40 hours and about 5,000 miles, but I got my drink.