The Google Cloud Bar | The Interwebs and Internets

By pdo | Published: December 16, 2009

There’s a lot of chatter on the web about the new Google Phone, the Nexus One.  People speculate about what Google is doing; if Google will buy Sprint; if Google’s phone will be free … but they’re missing the bigger picture.  What if Google opened a bar???

Delerium Café
Creative Commons License photo credit: Simon Aughton

Well, there will obviously be no clutter — just a big white room with no bottles or beer taps displayed.  Ask and you shall receive — Google will stock everything.

But it will be ad supported.  Want a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale?  May we suggest a Budweiser American Ale instead?  It embodies the spirit and rhythm of America.  No?  Ok, Sierra Nevada it is.  That will be …

Free, right?  Advertiser-supported drinks will eventually make them free.  Which means Google will have to limit consumption somehow.  Google can’t just allow all of its customers to drink themselves to death.

So, they’ll have to throttle usage.  If certain unruly customers seem to be hitting up the service too often, they’ll have to enter a Captcha to prove their sobriety.  Advertisers won’t want to advertise to blind drunks.

But some companies will be able to advertise directly to their consumers.  Budweiser and Miller will have to pull all their advertising dollars out of sporting events to cover their bar tab.  Sure the first American Ale is free, but the second … that’ll be paid for by Facebook (Isn’t it time you reconnected with __?) … and the third will be covered by Pfizer (Too much to drink? Viagra!) … and the fourth by Trojan.  (Are you feeling lucky?)

And when the advertising dollars drain out of sporting events … Google will have to buy the NFL, NBA, MLB, etc.  They’ll need the events to continue so that they have something to broadcast in their Google Bars (via YouTube) so patrons have a reason to visit.

But by this time, sporting events will be entirely digitized, conceptualized, modernized — there will be no athletes, just animated droid-thletes.  And all the ex-athlete, muscled-up individuals that used to be professional athletes will be kicked to the curb, cursed to wander the streets jobless and penniless … only to find refuge in the Google Bar.  Where they’ll have too much to drink, become angry at the bullshit, digitized farce on the YouTube screens and start a massive bar fight.

Which will interrupt all the Google Voice conversations and Friend Connections and Google Waves that are happening (nobody just TALKS in the Google Bar).  And chaos will reign while the oppressed rise up and drunkenly swing at the also-drunk nerdarati.  Which means only one thing: Google will have to buy the prison system. If Google’s going to make everything free, it will need a source of free labor.

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The Peanut (Bar / Tavern / Chicken Wing Restaurant) | Kansas City

By pdo | Published: November 29, 2009

Billed as Kansas City’s oldest bar, The Peanut has the vibe of a civic institution.  They aren’t trying to lure the hipsters with PBR specials or seduce the yuppie crowd with vintage cocktails.  The Peanut is established and has nothing to prove — it’s been around since before prohibition and the vinyl (asbestos?) floor tiles that are worn away under the bar stools from decades of use prove it.  The Peanut has beer, booze, and wings.  It’s great.

We went late on a Saturday after hearing about the wings — full-sized, fried, crispy, spicy, and delicious … and messy.  Definitely messy.  And made more messy and more delicious by … well … the booze of course.

Like a well eaten arm unable to fly, our economy is in a constant state of flux ............... to be quite..... ...................
Creative Commons License photo credit: Jon Haynes Photography

If I worked in Kansas City, The Peanut would be my go-to after-work bar.  If I lived in Kansas City, I’d live in a house near The Peanut so it could be my neighborhood bar.  Instead, I’m 500 miles away contemplating chicken wing recipes, and wondering if I can recreate them at home.

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Jake’s Pub | Clark Street, Lakeview | Chicago

By pdo | Published: November 23, 2009

Been looking for a neighborhood bar for a while.  Living near a college campus doesn’t lead to the best bar scene … unless you’re fond of drinking with a pack of 19-year-olds really excited to be buzzed.  Jake’s Pub is different.

Jake’s may be the only bar in Lincoln Park with a chalkboard full of beers by the bottle.  Go down Fullerton far enough and you’ll get to Quenchers.  Head up Clark long enough and you’ll get to Hopleaf.  Don’t want to leave Lincoln Park?  Head to Jake’s.

St. Pauli Girl
Creative Commons License photo credit: Bjørn Giesenbauer

We went on a Saturday afternoon.  Brett Favre was marching down the field while a few patrons watched and a few others played darts.  I had a Beck’s and watched the game.  Lisa had a Fat Tire and read the Onion.  Life was good.  We’ll be back.

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2009 Beaujolais Nouveau Is At Your Local Store

By pdo | Published: November 20, 2009

Beaujolais Nouveau is here.  Sure, it’s a waste of resources to rush this swill-y wine around the world.  Sure, it’s never that good (this year’s is pretty tasty, actually).  And sure, it’s a marketing ploy to unload cheap wine.  But it’s fun.  We tried 7 or so last night and only one was a clunker.

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Quenchers Saloon | Fullerton and Western, Chicago

By pdo | Published: November 8, 2009

Quenchers was recommended by a friend, so we stopped the other day when we were in the area.  We deliberately returned shortly after.  We will return again.  There’s something about a chalkboard full of choices that inspires return trips.

Waiter, there are words in my glass
Creative Commons License photo credit: quinn.anya

The beer selection is just staggering.  You may need to tap the free popcorn machine (with optional hot sauce) to provide sustenance while reading.  Don’t fret too much though — with so many choices (for the bartenders too), you may not get exactly what you order — but you’ll get something close.  If you’re picky, read the label before you drink half of it.

Free WiFi seals the deal.  If you telecommute, Quenchers is a great Bucktown office.

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Winter Gin Drinks | Recipe

By pdo | Published: November 1, 2009

Gin, with it’s juniper pine flavor and bracing strength, seems like a winter spirit.  However, the most popular gin drink, the gin and tonic, is decidedly a summer cocktail.  Summer is over, my gin supplies are still at max capacity, and I don’t know what to do.

Maybe the answer is the martini.  This cold, clear drink seems appropriate in sub-zero climates — something to warm the body after tromping through slush piles and snow drifts.  But we’re not quite there yet, it’s autumn.

Vodka Martini
Creative Commons License photo credit: geishaboy500

None of the internets was much help at first.  Maybe this is what Bing is talking about — tons of G&T posts, nothing helpful on the Google — so I decide to give the new guy a try.

Bing!  Here’s what I found:

  1. Martinz: gin, sweet vermouth, bitters, cherry
  2. Red Lion: gin, Grand Marnier, lemon and orange juice
  3. Winter Willow: gin, Pimm’s, willow water, syrup

I’m low on willow water and Pimm’s, but I’ll be mixing the other two later tonight.

martini
Creative Commons License photo credit: daniel john riedl

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Return to Rose’s | Lincoln Park, Chicago

By pdo | Published: August 20, 2009

I’m back after a long lull given the hype of my last post, and I order a Guinness.  $2.50, the bartender says.  My friend orders a Jack and Coke.  It’s $5, but ice is low, so the bartender knocks the price down to $4.  We put money down, he doesn’t take it.  Fine.

Bartender rummages around the bar.  He needs cards.  There’s a gent there (who I’m pretty sure was the guy that helped take out the trash last time) who’s making a run.  “We need cards too,” says the bartender, “and ice … and pretzels.”

“Sure, after this round,” he replies.  We’re watching Wheel of Fortune.

Bartender continues to rummage around, finds a bowl, finds pretzels, pours pretzels in bowl, places them in front of us, mutters about their dubious freshness, and we start wolfing them down.

Wheel of Fortune pauses, the runner arrives with ice and pretzels and cards, and I order another beer.  They’re smallish, but served in a frozen mug.  No complaints.  “Can you guys help carry some tanks?” the bartender asks.  Tanks?

“Sure.”

We head out the back door, meet Rose and her granddaughter, grab two CO2 tanks from their trunk, carry them into the bar, place them behind the counter, and return to our seats.  No problem.

“How about a free drink … as thanks?” the bartender asks.  Let’s pause for a second.

The bartender is Rose’s son, we gather.  He’s newly awakened, though it’s nearly 6PM.  He sings along to the Johnny Cash on the jukebox.  His hair is long and brushed straight back and oily, and he walks hunched over and muttering.  He has a thin mustache and sounds exactly like Bill Murry’s character in Caddyshack, so much so that we’re half ready to hear a story about the Dalai Lama.  Gunga-la-gunga!

So he says, “How about a free drink … as thanks?”

“Of course!” we say.  Another Jack and Coke arrives.

“I’ll refill that when you’re finished,” the bartender says to me.

There’s still a twenty and change on the bar in front of us as I finish my beer.  As promised, it is refilled.  We eat another bowl of pretzels, this time fresh ones.  The bartender disappears.

The niece enters, asks if we need anything else, and we ask for our check.  She arrives and tells us it’s $26.  We pay, walk out, and immediately realize those drinks weren’t exactly free.

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Three Videos That Show the Decline of the Martini

By pdo | Published: July 14, 2009

Number 1, the classic martini.  Mixed by a hot bartender.

Number 2, the douche-bag Grey Goose martini.

Number 3, the absolutely terrible, appletini.  Dr. Dorian, your drink is ready.

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Tiny Lounge | North Center / Lincoln Square, Chicago

By pdo | Published: June 13, 2009

We walked right by, actually, saw the number on the next building and realized what we had done.  Tiny Lounge has a tiny sign.  They also have a tiny website.  Everything is understated.

The menu has a good selection of specialty cocktails, an easily overlooked listing of classic cocktails (Tom Collins, sidecar, etc.), and even easier to overlook beer listings on the back.  The result of which seems to be that you find something you want to try instantly, then find something you want to try next after that, and something you want to try next time too.  And there will be a next time.

The place is sleek and clean with comfortable bar stools and Bertoia chairs at the tables.  Lighting is low; colors are muted.  Nobody is drinking to forget.  Nobody is watching a game.  The crowd is probably employed, probably affluent, probably neighbors.

We order food, and it is as well executed as the drinks.  We polish off another round while we finish off the pizza.  The frozen glasses are a nice touch.  The personalized bill is a nice touch (the bartender had slyly asked our names).  The details are taken care of at Tiny Lounge and so are the patrons.

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Tilted Kilt | The Loop, Chicago

By pdo | Published: June 5, 2009

At one point, there are 34 men on our side of the bar and we can’t see a single woman patron, but they are elsewhere at the bar in weird groups seemingly ready to pounce like jackals waiting for the lionesses to finish.

Our waitress arrives kilted, cleavaged.  She writes her name on a coaster and introduces herself.  I order a beer, Mark goes for whiskey, neat.  “On the rocks, with ice?” the waitress asks.  No.  There’s some explaining to do.  It’s kind of loud, which doesn’t help.

The waitress returns with my beer, but there’s a snag with the whiskey.  “It’s not in the computer yet,” she explains.  “I need to talk to the manager.”

Well, it’s not in the computer yet.  Of course.  And everybody is new enough to ask the manager instead of charging it as something else.  The prices are not different, but inventory is king.  She returns triumphantly after a few minutes.

We drink. We look around and count the men on our side of the bar — 34.  Their average age?  Probably 34 too.  There’s one employee whose job it seems is to strut around periodically.  It’s weird.

Juliet's Legs 5-7-09 6
Creative Commons License photo credit: stevendepolo

The Tilted Kilt has been described as a Hooter’s knockoff, and in many ways it is.  The staff is almost 90% female, though the gents rock the kilts too (theirs are longer).  But something is different.  Maybe it’s the Catholic-school-girl skirts and the lower lighting, but this place is most definitely a bar, not a chicken wing shack, and by bar, I mean brothel with beer or a bordello with cocktails.  That kind of bar.

We’ve had about enough, though I understand why others would linger.  Paying is the same tooth-pulling experience as ordering.  When we get back outside to the familiarity of the Loop, we breath easy.  We’ve confronted the sirens song and eluded it.

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