We walk into a hook and ladder company

Hook and Ladder, Clovis, California
Before we went inside Hook and Ladder, Mindy found a coupon on their website for $.75 off your drink for first-time customers. Sure, $.75 isn’t much, but with two of us, that’s $1.50 -- and then we’re talking money. After we sat down at the relatively crowded bar, Mindy showed Samantha the bartender our coupon. She told us she was sorry, but that website was from four years ago -- before the present owner bought the bar. She said there might be specials on their Facebook page, which they use as a website now.

It turned out that drink prices -- which Samantha told us about before we ordered -- were pretty reasonable without a coupon. We got $4 well drinks (rum & coke for me, cranberry & vodka for Mindy. We didn’t try one, but we heard that nobody makes a better Bloody Mary than Samantha). We enjoyed our drinks and watched some of the TVs (good news for me: Oakland A’s spring training. Bad news: my alma mater San Diego State went down in the first round of March Madness)

As you might guess by the name, firefighter paraphernalia decorates the place. The former owner had firefighters in the family and wanted to honor them. The new owner didn’t just keep the theme; he’s also kept staff and customers through the changeover.

One of those bartenders was filling a glass rimmed with salt with Worcestershire sauce, olive juice and lime juice along with the last of a bottle of Clamato juice, topped with what she could fit of a bottle of beer. With her yellow skirt, red belt and blue top, we were reminded of Snow White, and we realized she was making herself a red beer/michelada (Mindy was proud of herself for knowing what was in a drink she has no interest in ever ordering)

When Snow White finished mixing her drink, she put it up on the bar, walked around to the stool in front of the drink, and sat down to enjoy it. Her shift was over, and the bar wasn’t as crowded, so we moved down and (with her permission) sat next to her.

We overheard her mention that she’s a Disney fan (confirming that she was, indeed, dressed as Snow White; she said it was laundry day). When we asked, she said she’s worked at Hook and Ladder for 16 years, first part-time with the former owner. She was happy to switch over to full time when she had the chance; she’d been working retail along with bartending and was glad to quit that job.

She said she was willing to answer our standard questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” Bob, a regular who was sitting next to Snow White, was willing to answer as well.

Snow said it was the “people that come in” and good company that make a good bar. The people she was talking about aren’t just the customers, she said, but the staff as well. We asked about the H & L specifically, “I love this bar.”

Samantha, who’d just come on duty and had gotten our drinks, added, “I don’t go to any other bar. I drink here.”

Bob said Hook and Ladder is homey.

Snow said, “It’s not a family business, but it used to be.”

Bob was friends with the old owner, but he stuck around after it was sold, and he said they seem to treat the employees right; “everyone’s the same here.”

We asked what makes for a good church. Bob said he’d gone to CrossCity Christian Church since he was a kid, but “it got too big”.

Snow added, “You want to feel welcome. When it gets too big, you lose that connection.”

We didn’t want to miss Samantha’s answers, so we asked what she thought. For a bar, she said, “Honestly, just the people.” She’d been a customer at Hook and Ladder before working there, and she said, “They tried to get rid of me so hard, they hired me.” We asked what else she liked about the bar. She said that she likes that it’s dark and divey.

We said that that it didn’t seem much like a dive to us, but the others said when it was in its old location across Shaw Avenue, it had been much more of a dive.

As for a church, Samantha said it’s “the atmosphere and environment.” She loved singing the old hymns. She grew up in a Pentecostal church where her family was quite active, and she had quite a bit of fun in the youth group. She still attends church regularly.

It was time for us to head out (I had to go to work soon for my night audit shift). Bob was on his way out as well, and he had one last idea about what makes for a good bar. “Did you get a look at the restrooms? You have to look at the restrooms.” If the restrooms are clean, the ownership still cares about the place. If the restrooms are dirty, it’s on the way downhill.

I should note I did use the restroom at the Hook and Ladder. That wasn't the only reason we left feeling confident that Hook and Ladder would be around a lot longer.

We Walk into a Pub

Groggs Traditional Irish Pub, Clovis, California
I guess I was feeling groggy. We’d looked up a number of bars, but we headed out Thursday without being really set on where we’d go. I’d suggested a dive, but when we saw the crowd hanging around outside, we decided we weren’t in the mood for that divey of a dive.

So as Mindy read the names of a few bars we’d considered, I thought the name “Groggs” sounded the most amusing. I hoped there would be a proprietor named “Grogg” who would greet visitors saying, “I, Grogg. Place mine. You drink.”

(Spoiler: that was not the case.)

One of the other draws was that Groggs was an Irish pub that served naan -- because nothing says Irish like Indian flatbread.

We arrived to discover it was in the same neighborhood as another bar we'd visited recently. As we approached the entrance, we could hear men talking enthusiastically at an outside table. We walked through the smoking area where they were sitting; inside, a few people were sitting at the far end of the bar, but it didn’t seem to be a particularly busy night.

The boar’s head on the wall was surrounded by other fine kitsch, some of it Irish related. A side room had dart boards with electronic scoring, and a group down the bar got a box of darts.

Josiah the bartender asked for our orders, and we both said we needed to think about it for a minute. We always mean to decide what to order before we get to the bar so we won’t stand at the bar stammering, but we never manage it. Mindy decided on cranberry and vodka; I went with rum and coke. Josiah offered us a food menu, and though we were tempted by the naan and hummus, we ordered The Onion Tower.

While we waited for our onion rings, the men at the other end of the bar started laughing. Josiah was bopping along with the music while he got change, and one of the men said, “That’s why I come here, brother, the personality."

Mindy asked Josiah and Becky, who was serving, how the night was for them. Becky told us that the dinner rush had been much more busy than they'd expected, with pleasant customers.

“They were polite. I like polite people.” She said she hoped a couple of the new people would become regulars. She said they lived nearby and were happy they could walk or Uber home. She was happy because she wouldn’t need to argue with those guests if they stayed late in the evening. “I like people like that.”

I noticed Becky was getting ready to leave, and I asked if she would mind taking a moment to answer our questions about bars and churches. When we asked what makes for a good bar, she asked whether we wanted an answer from the customer or staff prospective.

We said staff.

She answered, “Good customers; nice, fun, cool.” Becky wore a sweatshirt from a bar in Florida where she’d worked for ten years, “It was family.”

As for what makes for a good church, Becky said she wasn’t a church-goer, but when she’d visited Europe a couple years ago, she loved the art and history she’d found in the churches and great cathedrals she visited.

Mindy asked Josiah our questions. He said a good bar had a friendly staff. He doesn’t like it too loud, and “an abundance of regulars makes it fun.” Josiah said he knows the regulars at Groggs by first and last names, and he thinks that’s important.

At church, Josiah said he likes good music, and also that “a church is nothing without a community of regulars.” He said he appreciates “a good church leader who will speak to you and also lead by example.” They talked for awhile about local churches; he's attended several churches in the area over the years, and he and his wife got to know each other partly because he gave her a ride to church.

The woman sitting next to me asked what I was writing in my notebook. I handed her a card and introduced myself and Mindy. She didn’t respond with mention her name, but she began asking questions about our project. I told her about our 2016 trip to visit a church and a bar in every state and she asked about that as well. She asked what the point of it all was.

Eventually, I got around to asking her our usual questions. She said a good bar has good beer and friendly staff. A good church should have a good pastor (by which I think she meant a good preacher).

She asked where I thought she was coming from, but I’ve learned better than to answer a question like that. She said she was a believer, but she didn’t seem happy with the Church in the Valley. The teachings and programs were directed toward young families. “They have programs for college students and young careers, but at 34, I’m not young. If I was a divorcee, they would have more programs directed toward me.” But for a single woman, not so much.

On top of that, she considers herself an introvert, and churches in the area are directed toward extroverts. People were expected to stand and sing loud and during greeting time shake hands and perhaps hug.

I asked if she might prefer going to an Episcopal contemplative service, but she said she’d have problems with that. I asked if it was because of the theology and she said, “That would be the word for it.” It was interesting that she said she doesn’t mind being sociable in a bar, but she prefers to be left to herself in a church.

Though she never gave her name, I asked if she was okay with my posting what she said, and she was fine with that as long as her identity wasn't clear. I was happy to comply, because as I said, I was feeling groggy that evening. But I can say quite clearly we enjoyed our time with the folks at Groggs.

We Walk into a Bar and Meet a Jerky Salesman

Miss Kitty’s Lounge, Clovis, California
We were puzzled by the man who came into the bar with a cooler in hand. Did he bring his own six pack? There was plenty of beer already at Miss Kitty’s Lounge; someone had written a little ode to hops on the chalkboard behind the bar: “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, when life is a b**ch, beer is a must.” (The *s allow the more optimistic among our readers to think of life as a beach.)

Anyway, there was obviously no need for anyone to BYOB.

We observed a number of people enjoying the drinks at Miss Kitty’s that evening. A couple of guys were playing pool as they drank their beers. “Rack ‘em up” one gentleman said to the other.

“You rack ‘em up, Beach!” (I think that’s what he called him, I could be wrong. I’m having problems inserting the correct vowels today.) Couples were enjoying conversation at the tables. Five women at the bar were very much enjoying each other’s company and conversation amongst themselves and with others at the bar, as well as working on their dance moves (to such tunes as Wild Cherry’s “Play That Funky Music” and Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls”.)

From outside, the place looks quite dark, but the interior was well- lit. The wall has pictures of various starlets (Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor) and pinups (Bettie Page was the only one I recognized). The bar was mostly full, but there was an elegant purple couch along one wall and comfy chairs with little tables around the edges of the room.

We ordered our drinks at the bar. I made the boring choice of Angry Orchard, and Mindy went with Twisted Tea, which we’d never come across before. A guy at the bar asked about the tea and so we asked him our two questions. (Actually, there are three questions. We always talk about “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” but we first asked, “What name would you like us to use in our post. You can lie about it.”)

He asked to borrow my notebook and pen. Here is what he wrote:

“Slavic Volochy” (I’m guessing that is not his real name.)

“Bar: Never ask for money up front.”

“Church: Stop using tax relief, you’re hurting the public. End Period”

After we thanked Slavic Volochy, Mindy and I took our drinks to a table on the other side of the room. When we were on our trip (visiting a bar and a church in every state), we spent a lot of time together, so we looked forward to spending time with people at the bar.Lately, we’ve been busy with conflicting work (and sleep) schedules, so during our bar time we enjoyed talking with each other. Frankly, right now, we enjoy talking with each other in a bar more than talking to strangers (which takes more energy).

As Mindy and I were talking, a man approached and the mystery of the cooler was solved. He said his name was Cliff, and he asked if we’d like to sample his homemade beef jerky. Mindy asked to try the teriyaki flavor. Cliff recently earned a license to sell the jerky he makes; he goes to various places, including bars, to sell it. He also mentioned going to other businesses, like realtors, where he has relationships.

We asked him our two questions, and for his bar answer, Cliff said, “I don’t like going into a dive.” And he doesn’t life “egotistical bartenders who have to show their authority” -- particularly those that deny beef jerky sales. We thought that maybe the best place to sell the jerky would be dives, since they are less likely to have food for sale, but that’s not how he seems to see it.

As for what makes for a good church, Cliff wants a church that preaches Biblical truth. He has a problem with some religions, it seems particularly Catholicism. “Mary doesn’t do anything for me. She was a good woman, and she’s in heaven, but she can’t help us. Priests can’t absolve us from sin.” He said he wants a church that preaches “the truth, even when it’s convicting and not what I want to hear.”

Bringing the two topics together he said, “The bars drove me back to going to church.” He talked about going to a karaoke bar and being disturbed by an attractive woman singing vile lyrics and being cheered on by men in the bar. “Sodom, meet Gomorrah” he said.

We did buy a bag of jerky.

Mindy realized she’d forgotten to include a tip when she paid for the drinks, so we went back to the bar to pay and chat for a bit with Petra the bartender. (Petra added a little heart when she signed her name on the whiteboard announcing who was tending bar that evening.)

I asked her about Miss Kitty’s. She said she’s been there two years, and what she likes about the place is her customers. She said they make each other welcome, they make newcomers welcome. “People can be themselves here.”

Like Cliff the nice jerky salesman and Slavic Volochy, we were happy to be ourselves there, because we like us. And beef jerky.

We Walk into a Bar Far, Far Away

House of Pendragon Brewing Company, Clovis, California
We were really hoping for Qui Gon Gin, but no. Instead, they offered Qui Gon Jinn and Juice with Pineapple, which is an IPA. As we’ve mentioned more than once, Mindy and I do not like beers or ales (or stouts, for that matter). HoP is a brewery, so beer is what they do.

On the other hand, it was the first night of Star Wars week, and we like science fiction fantasy, so it was a good night to be there. That same night was the theater debut of The Last Jedi -- but in this brewery, it was the debut for a Star Wars-themed beverage.

Outside the House of Pendragon, there was quite a collection of scum and villainy, with bad guys from a galaxy a long time ago and far, far away: Storm Troopers, a (tall) Jawa, a Tusken Raider, and a Tie Fighter Pilot. Inside, the taproom was packed, and we had some difficulty making our way to the bar.

Obviously, considering the name of the brewery, Star Wars isn’t the brewery’s usual geek theme. Usually medieval knights rather than Jedi knights provide the ambiance, but it was a reasonable transition. When we got to the bar to order, we heard that the Qui Gon Jinn had run out (more was expected in about fifteen minutes), so we ordered different IPAs, Excalibur and Lancelot.

It was a “Steal the Glass” Night, and the glasses were Star Wars themed. We paid a little extra to take them home.

While we were in line, Mindy had struck up a conversation with a man at one of the tables, and once we got our glasses, we asked if we could set them down on his table while we were sipping. John and his son, Austin, kindly gave their permission.

We asked John our two questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “What makes for a good church?” 

John said, “I’m old, so what I think makes for a good bar is different.” (For the record, he seemed younger than us.) “I like a more relaxed and less crowded place than this.” (This was probably a busier than usual night at House of Pendragon.) “I like sports on TV, something to watch. And I like good bourbon.” (I nodded; I got that.) 

For a good church, he said he likes a preacher who interacts with the congregation.

We asked Austin whether he wanted to answer the questions and he said he’d pretty much agree with his dad’s answers.

I asked John whether he’d be going to see The Last Jedi the upcoming weekend, and he said he’d be going hunting, bow hunting. Which led to a conversation that ranged from what’s involved in getting a hunting license to the Olympic career of Geena Davis.

Mindy looked up a couple of facts ("Did Geena Davis compete as an archer in the Olympics?) on her phone, and I said, “Smartphones have really killed bar arguments.”

John said, “No they haven’t.” Which I guess proved his point.

We headed out, chatting with some of the Empire’s finest (worst?) on the way. We’ll probably visit the new adventures of Luke and Leia and the galaxy newbies soon, but for now, it was fun to experience a real life Star Wars bar scene.

We Walk into a Bar to Find a Friend

Jimbo’s, Clovis, California

For the last couple of weeks, temperatures here in Fresno have been regularly hitting above the century mark. It’s been really nasty hot here, and the only thing that can get people to move is the promise of somewhere or something cool. The promise of ice cold beer can be like those pools of water surrounded by palm trees you see in cartoons, but Jimbo’s is an oasis that doesn’t fade away when you actually get there. We were quite happy to find that  at the bar were right in front of the “Port-A-Cool” evaporative cooling unit. Though we aren’t beer fans, a cold cider and a rum & coke with ice were refreshing as well.

We went to Jimbo’s because we thought we’d be meeting an acquaintance there. For us, this month is all about meeting people we know at bars. After all, that’s the chief function of bars for a lot of people: it’s a meeting place for friends. We’d talked with Kristina, a business acquaintance of ours, about our project of visiting bars every week. She told us she’d love to introduce us to her bar, Jimbo’s. She said she was always there on Thursdays, arriving sometime between 8:30 and 9:00 pm. Well, that “always” didn’t happen to include this week, and that’s okay. Kristina, you still directed us to a lively neighborhood bar, and we had a good time.

Most of the folks at the bar were in their twenties and early thirties, and they were happy to be together on this warm Thursday night. The two women next to Mindy were playing a lively dice game. When Mindy asked what it was called, one of them said it was just called “Dice,” but the other woman said, “It’s really called One--Four--Twenty-four.”

There were guys in the back room playing pool, and the bartender brought out a giant version of the table game Connect Four.

As soon as it was out, another couple played a few rounds, but we got a shot at it eventually. It’s good to have a public forum to say that I dominated that first game. Mindy claims she doesn’t do strategy. Still, the second game looked like it was heading for a draw until the barrier at the bottom gave way, and all the pieces spilled out. So we quit. (It looked like it would be a draw, but  I did see a couple of possible paths to victory. Just so you know.)

We looked out the back door at the patio area. It wasn’t exactly a garden spot, but people seemed to be enjoying themselves, and appreciating having a place to smoke. Inside, there were a number of TVs at the bar and around the two rooms.  I’d looked forward to catching some of the A’s/Giants game, but the score was already 8-1 Giants when we walked in, and this Oakland fan was not pleased. (11-2 Giants was the final.)

The music was loud and sporadic, and people were enjoying each other, so we didn’t engage in any conversations with other people after we’d learned about the dice. I guess in this month of walking into bars to meet with friends, the friendship Mindy and I have will be the one we count this week. Good enough for us.

We Walk into a Bar (but Some People Were Dancing)

Di Cicco’s Lounge, Clovis, California

We’ve often said the reason we went to a church and a bar in every state was because those were the two place we could go in almost any community where we could have conversations with people. This bar visit reminded us of something else about bars and churches: they’re two places you can (almost) always find music.

Mindy and I are not concert goers. We like a variety of music -- classical, rock, the American Songbook. We love many songs and bands. But we have limited stamina for listening to music while sitting in one place. We get antsy if we have to sit and just listen after a half hour or an hour.

But most any church you go into will have live music. Some denominations frown on musical instruments, but there’s still singing there. And some bars have no live music, but there’s always at least Pandora overhead. Or a jukebox that hasn’t been updated since the Clinton Administration, but there is music.

Fortunately, there are also churches out there with great worship bands, musicians, and/or orchestras and choirs, and there are bars with live music.

Di Cicco’s, an Italian restaurant in Old Town Clovis, has a lounge with live music. We were there for Wednesday’s Hump Day Blues hosted by Richie Blue, and when we came into the Lounge there were just two seats available at the bar -- but there were two seats. The band was playing “Route 66,” which is the essence of cool.

We ordered a Strawberry Lemonade and a Chocolate Martini. We also ordered a cannoli (if you are a guy of a certain age, can you not think of The Godfather when you encounter a cannoli?). All were very good.

The band, a couple of guitars (bass?) and drums, and one guy doing vocals were pretty good. There were couples on the dance floor, almost all of them eligible for Social Security. But there was one younger trio next to us at the bar, and they were dancing as well. The guy was in his late thirties or early forties, and the two women, who took turns dancing with the guy, were probably in their late twenties. There may be a story behind this, but we didn’t hear it that night.

We didn’t talk to anyone at the bar that night, and we didn’t ask our questions. Because the music was loud, it wasn’t easy for Mindy and me to hear each other, let alone start a conversation with other people.

We also couldn’t hear the TVs, which was fine as there were just two network playing. There was Centric, a network I’d never hear of, playing the movie Set It Off. And ESPN was playing a Drone Competition. I had no idea that Drone Racing was a thing, but of course it’s a thing.

So bars do provide a place, along with churches, to listen to music. And bars provide a place to dance. There are a few churches that provide a dance, but not nearly as many. (Go to Africa if you want to dance in church.) And this is good thing.