More Fictional Bars We'd Love to Walk into

TV Talk Machine Meet Up

It's Another List!

This week, we’re listing a few more fictional bars we’d like to visit, this time from TV shows. In our last post of 2016, we talked about TV bars with real live bar patrons, but not all of our favorite bars were mentioned. So here’s our top ten* (followed by an addendum of some bars we left off.)

Lincoln behind, Washington before

10) Founding Fathers (from Bones)

In Washington D.C., you have to go some place that acknowledges the history of the location. We went to a place called Church and State. On this crime procedural, forensic scientist Temperance “Bones” Brennan and FBI agent Seeley Booth celebrate solving a case with a drink at Founding Fathers. It’s fun to be in a place of celebration.

9) Moe’s Tavern (from The Simpsons)

Some might consider Moe’s a sad place to hang out with sad sack owner, Moe, and loser patrons, Homer, Carl, Lenny, and Barney. Concern about whether this place keeps track of the health codes is legitimate. But sometimes, the fun in bars is people watching, and it would be great to listen to and watch Homer in real life. Better than that… drunk Homer.

Safer than the Bronze

8) The Bronze (from Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Sure, you wouldn’t want to be there on a night when vampires or demons or werewolves were attacking (which would seem to be most nights), but they do have great musical entertainment such as Dashboard Prophets and Aimee Mann and new acts like Dingoes Ate My Baby, and there seems to be no cover charge. As long as there wasn’t blood in the drinks, a good time could be had by all.

7) Rosie’s Bar (from M*A*S*H)

I wouldn’t care to be on the front during the Korean War (or Korean “Police Action”), but if I were there, I’d want to be at Rosie’s. Rosie herself can be a bit cantankerous, but she wants to keep her patrons happy. And the other patrons would surely be amusing. (I’d rather be there when I could hang with Trapper John and Henry along with Hawkeye.)

6) The Tropicana (from I Love Lucy)

Sure, this is more of a nightclub than a bar, but it does seem like the entertainment would be good, drawing in the top acts of the day. You might get to see Martin and Lewis live there. You’d surely hear Ricky Ricardo’s orchestra and Ricky himself. But you might also hear Lucy Ricardo sing, which has the same amusement quality as bad karaoke.  

Potential customers for Rowlf's

5) Rowlf’s Tavern (from The Muppet Show)

Talk about fine entertainment, no one tickles the keyboard like Rowlf the dog. He’s also a great listener for patrons who are feeling blue (or green, for that matter). As for the bar food, they say he serves the best kibble in town.

4) Ten Forward (from Star Trek:The Next Generation)

Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg) was almost as a good a listener as Rowlf. The best liquor is offered, from Saurian Brandy to Vulcan Port to Klingon Bloodwine, and you aren’t limited to people watching, you can watch (and talk with) all kinds of species.

Real Dodge City bars were less real than Gunsmoke bars

3) Long Branch Saloon (from Gunsmoke)

There’s something to be said for longevity, and this bar lasted longer than any bar other than Moe’s (perhaps longer if you include the radio years).  The owner and proprietor, Kitty, is a gracious hostess; with Matt Dillon around, the security is superior to most establishments in the Old West. And there is nothing cooler than pushing open those swinging doors.

2) Cozy’s Bar (from Parks and Recreation) - Sure, you’d have to go to Eagleton which is anathema to many residents of Pawnee, Indiana, but they have great entertainment. You can hear the jazz styling of saxophonist Duke Silver. It’s a classy place where cougars thrive.

1)  The Brick Tavern (from Northern Exposure) - There’s nothing like a friendly, small town bar, and this one’s also a refuge from the long Alaskan nights. Shelly’s a friendly bartender, and Holling is a good cook. Citizens of Cicely always have good stories to tell, and even back in the ‘90’s I don’t remember people smoking in this bar.

Real Paddy's in Philly

(Other bars considered: The Gem from Deadwood was too dangerous, the management of Quark’s from Deep Space Nine is not to be trusted, the hipsters at The Griffin on New Girl have gotten annoying, there were too many racist remarks for comfort at Archie Bunker’s Place, and Paddy’s on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is fun to watch on the small screen but a visit would probably end in disaster -- although we enjoyed our visit to the bar that claims to be the inspiration for it)

Cheers in Boston is more of a gift shop

*You’ll notice Cheers isn’t on the list; that’s because it transcends any list we might make. The bar gets mentioned at almost every bar we visit, and we did see it when we were in Boston, though we didn’t officially visit that delightful location. We’d love to hang with Cliff, Frasier and NORM!!!

We Walk into the 19th Hole

Fig Garden Golf Club, Fresno, California

None of the golf courses I ever go to seem to have bars. Sure, they have snack bars, but not the kind of bar we’ve been writing about for the past year or so. This is probably due to the fact I only go miniature golfing, not real golfing. At miniature golf courses you get watery soda and lemonade (and sometimes really bad pizza), not pinot grigio or whiskey cocktails.

But throughout our lives we’ve heard about the famed “19th Hole,” so we decided to check out a grown up golf course -- turns out they had a grown up bar!

We had to do a little research to find it, though. Mindy made some phone calls, and we learned that some Fresno golf courses have nothing, and some have what sounded to us rather like those miniature golf snack bars with the addition of beer. But Fig Garden had a real bar, so that’s where we headed.

As we got close to the golf course, we drove through a very nice, mansion-friendly neighborhood on what had turned out to be a gorgeous day (which for Fresno between April and November seems to mean the temperature’s under the century mark). We saw a K-9 car parked near the entrance, which made me wonder if they'd brought a dog to sniff out gophers. Soon we discovered the police were there for another reason, the Enrique “Kiki” Camarena Memorial Golf Tournament. “Kiki” was an undercover narcotics agent who was killed in the line of duty over thirty years ago. The proceeds of the annual tournament go to families of officers who sacrifice their lives in service of the public.

Courtney, our bartender, told us fewer regulars come to the bar when there’s a tournament because they can’t get tee times. She said it’s usually regulars who populate the bar stools.

Judy, one of those regulars, said she didn’t golf anymore, but her husband does, so she comes to the bar at the club to see her friends. She said this place is her “Cheers.” “It’s like back in the day when they had coffee klatches,” she said. “We know almost everybody.”

Judy has been coming to this bar for eight or nine years, and Courtney has been been working there for six or seven years. Courtney had worked in other bars, so I asked her how a golf course bar is different. She mentioned that they -- obviously -- aren’t open until 2:00 am. During the summer, the bar is open into the early evening, but during the winter (when business tends to be slow), the bar closes at sunset. And, unlike some neighborhood bars, the regulars are well behaved, not rowdies. “This place is pretty much Mayberry except when there are huge tournaments.”

We asked Courtney our usual two questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” She said that in a bar, the important thing is the people, “Nice people who like to talk to people.”  She and Judy agreed that in this bar, even strangers were welcomed into conversation. (We certainly were.) As for what makes for a good church, Courtney said, “Same thing, a welcoming place that’s comfortable enough that you can relax and want to go back.”

I should note there is another way that this golf course bar is different than almost every other bar I’ve been in: they have to-go cups. Especially when I worked in hotels with bars, staff had to keep an eye out for people trying to take their drinks out the door. Here they have plastic lidded cups that people can use to take their adult beverages out on the course or to the outdoor tables set up for the tournaments.

As we were leaving, Courtney said, “Dean, don’t forget your phone!” I had left it on the table next to the bar where we’d sat while waiting for space to open up at the bar, so I appreciated the reminder. But what really impressed me was that Courtney used my name. As much as people have referred to the Cheers theme song at bars, Courtney’s one of the few bartenders who used my name on our first visit.

My enjoyment of full-sized (not miniature) golf will probably continue to be limited to Caddyshack, but it is good know that I don’t have to play eighteen holes in order to enjoy the 19th. And the bar --  and the regulars -- at the Fig Garden is very enjoyable indeed.

We Walk into a Bar in Idaho

Pengilly's Saloon, Boise

We peeked through the door at the Cactus Bar, but we saw only one man sitting at the bar, and he looked like he might have been there all day long. We decided we didn’t need to open the door.

We were with a high school friend of mine in Boise, a friend that I hadn’t seen since a class reunion years ago. Christina used to frequent the Cactus when she worked nearby at Goldy’s Breakfast Bistro. After the lunch shift, the “Goldy’s Girls” (all waitresses) would walk down the alley from the restaurant to get a drink together at The Cactus, a quintessential dive bar. The omnipresent motley collection of day drinkers would look with appreciation as the tired waitresses entered, because, as Christina said, “If you had all your teeth, you were one of the most gorgeous women in the house.”

But since it didn’t seem like a hot night at the place, even by Cactus standards, we decided to go two doors down to Pengilly’s Saloon.

A number of people had recommended Pengilly’s to us, often with the suggestion that we go on a Thursday night when the Frim Fram Four perform. The 4 are a renowned ensemble in the area specializing in classic arrangements from the Jazz Age. When we arrived a little before eight o’clock on a Tuesday night, we saw a solo act getting ready for his nine o’clock set.

Unlike the Cactus, Pengilly’s was hopping, and the bar was full. Christina’s husband, Tom, saw several people he knew.  At a table near the door we learned that many were there for a local environmental group’s event. (A plus about this situation: the woman at the table had a roll of tickets redeemable for a well drink at the bar. By simply giving our e-mail address, we were each able to get a free drink from the bar -- a rum and Coke for me, while Mindy had a Square Mile Hopped Apple Cider which technically was not a bar drink. The bartender was kind and took her ticket anyway.

Christina and I attended Piner High in Santa Rosa, California, nearing four decades ago, a number we shall try not to think of again. We were in drama together and co-starred in the show Stage Door. Our characters were supposed to kiss, but we were so awkward that the director said, “Maybe you could just hug.”  I left theater behind, but Christina carried on, performing in a number of professional venues. Her husband, Tom, is also an actor. He taught many years of high school drama (one of the bartenders at Pengilly’s was a former student), and for many years he was a necessary player at the Idaho Shakespeare Festival. Christina and Tom began dating while touring schools with a Shakespeare presentation.

Since there wasn’t room at the bar, we sat down at a booth in Pengilly’s and asked Christina and Tom our two questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what would make for a good church?” (Spoiler: I already knew they didn’t go to church.)

Christina said, “It really is who you’re with at the bar.” She went on to tell fond bar memories revolving around people. Pengilly’s, she told us, has a place in their hearts because, among other things, it is where many from the Idaho Shakespeare Festival company would meet after shows. Then after the season (which runs from the end of May through September) ended, friends from the company would continue to get together at Pengilly’s. In spite of the tiny dance floor, many of them would find a way to dance. Not surprisingly, a number of people from the company could dance very well. (Christina and Tom said they enjoyed watching the pros.)

Christina talked about other bars that held fond memories. Tom Grainey’s Sporting Pub, a Boise staple, is another favorite spot for local bands. While dating, Tom and Christina requested a ballad. They were told that the band had already played a ballad in that set, but they’d play another for them in the next set, if they stuck around. They did stick around, and in the next set, the band played John Coltrane’s “Naima,” dedicating it to them. For the next couple of years, whenever Tom and Christina went to the bar, that band would strike up “Naima” for them. (Needless to say, this became one of “their songs.”)

Tom said a good bar is “just this loud” (Tom does have some hearing issues).  “I like to chat more than dance.” But Tom appreciates music and a bar with “a good jukebox, if you can find one.”  A bar nearby has a Viralux jukebox with a huge selection of songs that they’d “put $5 in -- it’s just that good.”  

Christina echoed her love for a good jukebox, “I like it when they play Johnny Cash there, even though I don’t like Johnny Cash anywhere else.”

In answer to what would make for a good church, Christina said one word, “Joy.”

Christina grew up attending a small Baptist church with her parents that she felt lacked joy. She quit going to church when she didn’t have to anymore. At another time she told me about encountering a lively African American church on a theater tour. She said she wondered whether church might still be a part of her life if she’d grown up in that kind of church.

When asked for what made for a good church, Tom hesitated about answering the question. He said after many years of struggling with the issue, he’d finally decided to go from labeling himself as an agnostic to calling himself an atheist. But I said that we’d talked to plenty of atheists on this trip who still had ideas about what churches should be. And Tom did, in time, have an answer. “I love Christmas music, I love holiday music. That spectacle of it keeps my nostrils above water for the rest of the year.”

Later he thought of something else that he appreciates in a church, when a pastor is a good storyteller. He said his first wife was more religious than he, and he used to sometimes go to church with her. And the pastor of that church was very good. He got things out of those messages, and Christina confirmed that he still talks about that pastor and his messages.

As we talked, the soloist began to play. The second song in his set was the theme song from Cheers. Sometimes you want to go where everyone knows your name. Sometimes it’s more than enough to be where only a couple of people know your name, especially if they’ve known it for a long time.

We Walk into a Bar at an Undisclosed Location

Today's post is just between you and me. We’re trying to keep this one on the down low.

This “bar” is in one location where checking I.D.s is pretty much unnecessary. Underage drinking is unlikely, because you need to be at least 62 years old to be a part of this institution. And there's a two drink maximum, because this bar is only open for an hour each week.

Last week we had an opportunity to visit a retirement community. It has the kinds of activities one expects at such places: crafts, card games, exercise classes, worship services, singalongs, and movies. And every Friday at 3:00 pm, there’s another get together called “Cheers.” Residents are welcomed to what’s usually a sandwich shop for drinks -- wine and beer with a two drink maximum.

I’d rather not mention the name of the place because there was some controversy about allowing this event when it began three years ago. Some people prefered the community to be an alcohol free zone, but the drink  time survived. Now, it’s a pleasant weekly social time, but a staff member asked us not to post pictures of the event. Temperance sentiments still simmer, and it’s best not to stir things up.

We were still able to spend time with some good folks at what they call “Cheers” (and what we’re calling our bar for the week).

It was interesting to see that for the most part, the group segregates themselves into two, with a table for men and a table for women. We (Mindy and Dean) took turns integrating both tables, first the men and the women. When Mindy sat at the men’s table, one of the guys said, “We promise not to tell any dirty jokes. Because we don’t remember any.”

We were even able to ask our weekly questions of “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?”

People were more than willing to include us in conversations, though it was harder than we expected to get answers to our questions.

One man told us that a good bar had “friendly people and not too loud music.”

Several agreed with one man who said, “I don’t frequent many.” A few of the men suggested bars, including a nearby Greek restaurant that has bellydancers on weekends.

Several agreed when one man said, “This right here, this is our bar.”

Another said, “It’s not dark, but it’s a good bar.”

We learned more about the churches people attend (most of them do attend a local church, and a number of those churches provide transportation on Sunday morning). Most of them have attended their current church for decades, and all agreed that friendliness was an important part of a good church.

Several women mentioned that they’ve always been made to feel welcome when they visited churches, but one woman (who’s moved to the area more recently) said, “I’ve been in churches as a stranger, and nobody talked to me.”

Other stories swirled around us. Mindy overheard part of another story about visitors sitting in one woman’s usual pew. Dean talked to a man whose children, raised in the Baptist church, are all attending Catholic churches now. “As long as they’ve got a religion,” the man said. “They wouldn’t miss church for anything.”

A couple other men told us about their church, which is practically next door to a local university. “There’s not enough young people,” one man said. “We need young people.” They told us that the college was discussing buying the church buildings while allowing the church to continue using the property. Both men felt this would be a good option all the way around.

There are a number of good worship options available for the people of this retirement community. It was fun be with people enjoying “Cheers,” the one onsite “bar” option.

We Walk into a Bar in Iowa

The Blazing Saddle, Des Moines

“You’ve been to forty states and this is your first gay bar?” Bryan the bartender (and one of the owners) asked incredulously. We hadn't planned to go to The Blazing Saddle, but we went to a different place. Then we went somewhere else that looked interesting from the website. But no one was there. (They may all have been at the Carrie Underwood concert at the Wells Fargo Arena.) So we walked down the block and saw plenty of people inside and outside The Blazing Saddle.

Besides the very important fact of actual people we could talk to, there was the name of the place. I love the early films of Mel Brooks (From The Producers to Silent Movie is one of the all time great five film streaks, with Blazing Saddles smack dab in the middle.) The founder of the bar went by the nickname of “Mongo,” after the character (played by NFL star Alex Karras) who slugs a horse. The Blazing Saddle has a pool table and a variety of posters and paintings for decorations (including a portrait of Bette Davis). There were a couple of TVs playing music videos.

One of the bartenders, Christopher (who we later learned was also an owner), greeted us cheerfully as we worked our way to the crowded bar. He asked what we’d be having. Mindy inquired about a drink the man next to her was drinking. It was a coffee martini, which sounded good to her. The man drinking it offered her a sip, since it was made with tequila and might not be what she liked. She declined the sip, but when the man added that it tasted like mocha, she ordered it. I, being boring and stuck in a rut, ordered an Angry Orchard.

Christopher later told us that he considers it very important to greet people when they come. Sometimes, he told us, if he’s out front smoking a cigarette when someone new enters the place, he’ll toss the cigarette in the ashtray and go in to greet them. “Can’t let them wait at the bar.” (He said he sometimes goes through a pack a day that way.)

We sat down next to Jesse (whose martini Mindy didn’t share). He told us he works in human resources, so we shared stories about customer service. We asked if he’d mind answering our standard questions, and he agreed.

We asked, “What makes for a good bar?”

Jesse said, “My answer has changed as I’ve gotten older. If I had to pick a word, I’d say ‘relaxed.’” He said he liked to be able to talk to people and listen to music. He added, “Anybody’s welcome here.”

I asked what he liked in a bar when he was younger, and Jesse said that he used to like a loud place with as many people packed in as possible.

We asked what would make for a good church. Jesse said, “It’d have to be open and affirming. So for here, that’d be Plymouth Church.” (I heard a couple of other people at the Blazing Saddle speak positively about Plymouth.) He added, “I grew up Pentecostal. I don’t like it where the format’s all rigid.” He joked about churches where you have to stand up at 9:04 and sit down at 9:05, same time, every week. He also said he likes a positive message and not “fire and brimstone” every week. He said that until he left his hometown to go to school, he’d often led music at church, which he kind of misses. He said, “Music in church seems to be unifying. It’s the closest to real magic the world has.”

Jesse was to our left at the bar, so after a while I turned to talk to Joe, who was to my right. He was there with Jim, his partner of thirty years. They had been going to the Blazing Saddle for the last thirty years, most of the bar’s 33 year existence. “We like this bar, people know each other. It’s a family atmosphere.” He also said that a good bar serves strong drinks, but Joe drinks beer anyway. He said he wants a welcoming place, which will be clean and comfortable and safe. He implied this place hadn’t always been such a place, but it is now.

He talked about some of the good things this bar did, such as collecting amenities (such as toothpaste and soap) for AIDS victims and the homeless. They’ve also raised money for scholarships for LGBT students with Bingo, drag shows, or silent auctions.

I asked Joe what would make for a good church and he said, “They should have activities that keep you interested and bring you back.” He said that they don’t have to a hundred percent supportive of the gay movement but they shouldn’t be “preaching against the gay world.”  He added that a good church, like a good bar, should have people that are like family. He said most churches he’s known have been warm, and he felt that churches should be a good place to socialize without being judged.

The crowd at the bar had thinned a little, so Mindy asked another of the bartenders, Aaron, if she could bother him with a couple questions. He said a good bar needs a “combination of staff and clientele. We have regulars creating an atmosphere of enjoyment. We’re the Cheers of Iowa.” He said, “We treat people the way they want to be treated. And I should add that we have the strongest, cheapest drinks in the state.”

As for church, Aaron said a good church needs “an understanding of who your people are -- who’s coming in.” He told Mindy about his grandma, who’d said, “Whoever walks in your front door is family. Welcome everybody who comes in.”

He said church should be like that, then added, “Kind of like here, but our communion is fireballs and peppermint shots. People come in here to get the stress of the world off their shoulders. Religion and bars are two entities that are kind of the same. There’s a lot of sin here, maybe, but a lot of charity, too. If we have a show, it’s for a good cause, like for veterans. It’s one of the things we’re known for around here.”

As we were leaving, Christopher was sitting on a bench outside, and he thanked us for coming. We asked him if we could ask our two questions, and he happily complied.

He first said that a good bar serves “a good stiff drink,” but later, he spoke of what he thought was good about The Blazing Saddle. He said that it was friendly and not a threatening place: “straight, gay, whoever you are, come in and have a good time.”

We told Christopher we appreciated his friendly greeting when we entered, and he said, “If you own a business, you have to be that way.” He said he’s been in the service industry since he was 14, and that’s how he’s been.

We asked him what would make for a good church and he said, “My parents were hippies, so I never grew up with religion. I didn’t grow up with church. I never ever ever went to church.” He did say, though that he’s been to weddings and funerals and that as a kid he went to Bible school at a church nearby. He said his “other half” grew up Catholic but doesn’t go to church anymore. For Christopher, church and religion have never had a place in his life.

He said that he and his partner Matt sometimes go to a straight bar near their home. One of owners, a Catholic woman, initially lectured them on their lifestyle. He asked her, “Who are you to judge me?” He said that they worked through it and now are friends.

Bryan, another owner who’d been working behind the bar, joined us about then. He said Blazing Saddle has won so many awards in the local papers for best neighborhood bar that they’ve considered changing the award name to “The Blazing Saddle Award.” He said they’re known as the “Gay Cheers,” and Christopher added that the same people come regularly and sit in the same seats.

Even though we weren’t regulars, the folks at The Blazing Saddle still made us feel welcome.