Posted on Leave a comment

University City Center

University City Center in Columbus Ohio

University City Center was a memorable strip mall, located on Olentangy River Road where The City apartment complex is now. They began knocking that building down in 2018 and its replacement took maybe a couple years to complete. I actually had no idea this project was underway, until cruising past one night in December of 2018 and noticing it was a fenced off construction site back there. Off the top of my head, I know that the Kroger was there for an eternity, and pretty much every building fanning off to the right (north) was in place from at least the late 90s onward.

Yet most of the detached buildings in front, nearer the road, are in place, which reminds me for some reason of how you’ll drive through the country every once in a while and spot a crumbled, abandoned house where just one wall remains standing somehow. Considering they are depicted on the sign itself, we must include them as part of this strip mall as well. A number of these buildings are quite weathered by now themselves. Below is a rundown of various entities who called the UCC home during its spirited run. Since it seems you were most likely to arrive here from campus, we will start at the bottom, southern edge and work our way north through the addresses. These are all Olentangy River Road, aside from a couple notable exceptions I’ll get to at the bottom:

2781: it all depends on whether you want to include this sad little brick building, which I am inclined to do. Though now closed, it still stands here and was formerly a shop selling Buckeye paraphernalia for many a year. It was called Across The Field and they were in business from 2010 to 2022. Somewhat resembles a church, and may have been one in its earliest days. Immediately prior to Across The Field, though, it housed Tedrick & Associates (1999-07), Studio 501 Architects, Space Craft Architecture, Art Access, Williams Music Co, and Allen Church Organs. That was all from the 1990s onward. In more recent times, a food truck called Chicken & Tea has been known to haunt these grounds.

Across The Field Columbus Ohio

2785: From at least 1997 to 2000, something called My Shop Inc. was here, as owned by one Georgeann Mock. But I can’t claim to actually remember this business.

2823: Raising Cane’s. As far as I’m aware, the last new building erected before the main strip mall behind it was knocked down. You know the drill here: great food, pleasant atmosphere, friendly help and tons of OSU/Columbus artifacts adorning the walls, alongside other randomness.

2825: Was once a Citgo, is now a Sunoco. But has boasted the same manager (Khalid Liraqui) for as long as I’m able to track these things (going on 30 years) which presumably means the same owner as well. The most remarkable feature about this location was that, in the late 90s, they ran this promo on a certain day of the week, every week, where all three gasolines “flavors” were priced the same. This place would be positively afire with traffic on that day, people lined up in their vehicles as deeply as the parking lot would allow.

One such afternoon, I happened to be driving through here, and for some reason paid more attention than usual to my surroundings. It was then that I realized, at least on this day, that every single car was occupied by Asians. And I thought this was really cool, kind of somewhat touching – this was before the internet had blown up, so obviously it had become a word of mouth phenomenon, they had passed along this tip in some fashion throughout their community.

On another occasion (who knows how or why this stuff sticks in your head), I was riding around with Alan one day and he popped in here for gas. As we’re leaving, he remarks that he has a headache, then happens for some reason to connect this with the fact that he hasn’t consumed any alcohol yet that day. Then catches himself and jokes, “oh god…I hope I’m not already so bad off that I get headaches if I’m not drinking anything…” We were, like, 22 at the time or something.

2831: I honestly don’t remember a Dairy Queen being here, even though it was apparently in existence clear up until 2008. But, alas, beer was obviously more of a priority for us during those years, not so much ice cream. But anyway, it would have sat at the very southern edge of the strip mall. After DQ left the scene, a restaurant called Cafe Kabul then gave it a go, up until the wrecking ball arrived.

2835: Hair Happening until 2007. A little later became Ace Cash Express, then something named Smokin’ Buckeyes, finally El Jalapeno Mexican Grill.

2839: CNC 30 Minute Photo, incredibly enough, lasted clear up until 2006 before giving up the ghost. Then it became a Liberty Tax operation.

2843: Chalkie’s Billliards had the most significant heyday in this spot. In more recent times I know a trendy modern bowling alley/bar combo sprouted up where Chalkie’s was – although it must not have been that trendy or modern, i.e. not worth saving. And I can’t figure out what that was called, despite having been here on at least one occasion.

I see that something called Red Planet X was also here, though this appears to have possibly been a clothing store. Then finally Sun Spot Tanning Salon.

2855: Big Lots was here for an eternity, right up until the end.

2865: Now we bounce down to one of those separate buildings in front, to a McDonald’s which has cranked out the quarter pounders even longer, and continues to this day.

2867: back up to the main building, where a Swan Cleaners seems to have been the final occupant. They were around for at least a decade or so.

2869: Fortune Chinese Restaurant stuck around from the late 1990s, if not even earlier, until very nearly the end.

2871: Was once a moldering pit called Time Out Sports Bar. Then turned into the much more lively NYOH’s (pronounced nye-ohs) (the owners, if I recall correctly, moved from New York to Ohio.) and then finally E Buckeye Bar & Grill, which I don’t believe I ever frequented. Prior to all this, it was a Mammoth Video, though this was before my time.

2875: Something called Just For You from 2002-04, then later Sushi Ting Japanese Restaurant.

2885: Jo-Ann Fabrics gave this spot a go for quite some time, which means it must not have been just drunken college kids stomping around these grounds, but little old ladies as well. Come to think of it, this probably explains all the fedora sporting grandpas over at Time Out Sports Bar, who were huddled over their Scotches while the wives presumably shopped for yarn in here.

Well, then it became Momo 2, followed by Cadillac Booz (possibly where the crotchety old timers relocated? Just a guess, based upon the name), and finally Red Club.

2893: was a Great Clips for many years, once again up to or very close to the end of this strip mall.

2895: X O X Karaoke Bar from 2013-17

2901: First a Rite Aid, then a Family Dollar.

2913: Kroger held this down as basically the anchor tenant of University City Center for decades. A full-blown operation with bakery and deli, of course, and also a Huntington Bank mini-location inside. Notable as the site where many of us glimpsed a Coinstar machine for the first time. Which in turn surely became the most ever used Coinstar machine for roughly the same group of people.

Cary worked here, at the same time she was a hostess at Damon’s, and through her I got to know a few other employees as well. Prior to her arrival on the scene, though, I actually applied to work at this store, part-time, though they shipped my application up to the not quite open Bethel Road one instead. And I joined the original cast there. As a result, though, this has all become an especially interesting what if? type parallel universe thought experiment for me over the years. Certain aspects of my life – like the Cary experience – might have turned out remarkably similar anyway, while others would have been completely different.

It was also handy on the occasions we ran out of supplies at the restaurant. Which seemed to happen more often than a professional, theoretically profitable operation should ever allow. I know I personally was sent over here a handful of times with some cash, in order to buy them some emergency steaks, at full grocery store retail prices. And then there was exactly one memorable afternoon, where I showed up and our kindly manager Dave Weinle handed me a five dollar bill.

“What’s this for?” I asked.

He chuckled and told me to take a “leisurely stroll” down to the Kroger, use this to purchase some razor blades and shaving cream. Then put those instruments to use in the bathroom mirror before returning to action.

2931: Was a Life Uniform & Shoe Shop, followed by Famous Nails.

2933: Woody’s Sports Club called this home – as we patrons did, in turn – for a relative eternity. Although I have to admit, our final visit was highly depressing and I somewhat regret even coming here then. This was 2008 and the place was long past its prime, though hanging around until the bitter end. It would have been much better to hold exclusively onto memories of its golden era.

For quite some time, there was a framed photo montage in the foyer area, in between the zigzag of its two front doors. I knew a few people captured in that collection, and often debated just grabbing the thing somehow, when nobody was looking. And, once again, regret not doing so, but I just never had the nerve. If there is ever such a thing as a theft for a just cause, however, I think this might qualify. Maybe I’m wrong, but suspect this probably wound up in a dumpster, eventually, and where is the justice in that?

2937: This was a Subway franchise for eons. Our pal Jeremy Wendling worked here a bit in the late 90s. This dude named Garry Appleton owned the joint and he also ran some other business out of here in his spare time – Sigco Inc., whatever that may have been.

One night some guy left his car running in front of the store while he ran inside to place an order. Meanwhile, somebody else allegedly strolled out of Woody’s, half-ripped, and climbed behind the wheel, drove away. The cops apparently showed up at Woody’s and everyone said they soon determined that the culprit was this Michael guy, who had just started waiting tables at our Damon’s a few days earlier. We never saw him again, it goes without saying. Although I’ve been unable to verify this episode online in more recent times, so who knows.

2941: And now for the business bookending this lineup, the PNC Bank at the front, northeast corner. I applied for an account here when first moving to Columbus, yet they refused me on the grounds that I only had a state ID, but not a driver’s license. I.e. the exact same piece of identification, except for the driving part. This made absolutely no sense to me and they eventually called a manager over to intervene.

“Let me get this straight – you only open accounts for people who can drive?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” she said with a straight face.

I think basically they didn’t want to trifle with deadbeat youths, if at all possible. Nonetheless, though never venturing inside again, their external digital clock would prove quite useful to me for roughly the next year and a half – comparing it, against my watch, which comes in handy on the occasions where management at Damon’s would maybe try and get clever by adjusting their own time clocks. Claiming we were late, and trick us into showing up a minute or two earlier.

2943: Finally, back to the strip mall for the last couple businesses. Comprehensive Chiropractic was here up to 2004. Then, a Georgetti’s Pizza.

2945: Rick’s Beverage peddled its wares here, possibly with some slight name changes, for well over two decades. It appears at some point they added a check cashing and possibly even a U-Haul renting racket to their portfolio of offerings, too.

OSU Red Roof Inn Columbus Ohio
OSU Red Roof Inn

Honorable Mentions:

This is one final pair of businesses, lining the southern perimeter, that I feel must be included under this University City banner. Both Ackerman addresses, one still here and one long gone, though both represented crucial pieces of the comprehensive UCC experience:

Applebee’s – I probably visited this one more than any other Applebee’s, ever. This primarily due to a popular strategy when working doubles at Damon’s, in that many of us would drift over here in between, pound some drinks and possibly lunch before strolling back to work for our dinner shifts. Hey, the veterans were doing this long before I arrived on the scene, so it isn’t as though this was my big idea. I don’t recall Applebee’s employees reciprocating this stunt, ever, though, which probably just means they were a much more professional operation and strictly forbade such. Or else didn’t schedule their employees doubles like that, or else Applebee’s employees had no interest in visiting our dingy hole – take your pick.

As far as double agents go, my former colleague and “disciple” Kathleen is the only person I know who worked in both places. Although it seems highly likely that others attempted this move over the years – and if so, I’m highly curious to see the breakdown on which direction more traffic flowed. Up until this bit the dust in 2017, by which point the Damon’s had already been long, long long long gone.

Red Roof Inn – this remains an ideal, centrally located base of operations if visiting Columbus, or for that matter a local resident wishing to crash after barhopping. In my experience, it’s always been a reasonably priced and totally decent hotel option. Aside from all that, or should I say included with this, there are a couple memorable nights I can recall, which transpired at least in part on these grounds:

1) Melissa informs us that she and a bunch of her fellow ADPi sorority sisters are renting a room at the campus Red Roof Inn, for reasons unknown. Needless to say, once we hear of this, Damon, Alan, and I are all about joining forces with them. Exactly three of those chicks we vibe with, I would say, and they are with us as well: Melissa, the other Melissa, and Tonia. Aside from them, there’s some lame redhead, a lame heavy set girl (you may detect a trend here), and a few others that don’t make much of an impression. Plus two other guys – one of which, Stan, is dating Melissa P. these days. The other being the lame redhead’s younger brother.

“Oh McGathey, what happened to you?” Melissa P. says, with considerable sadness. I assume by this she means the year or so detour into a serious relationship with Jill, but don’t ask. Granted that was a previously unthinkable development, although then again she doesn’t have much room to talk considering the presence of this cheesy Stan guy.

And anyway it doesn’t much matter, because Tonia is fused to my hip now. I don’t quite know how this happened, but sometimes the very first occasion you meet someone, it isn’t so much that you “hit it off” extremely well, more like you have this idea about exactly what kind of shtick or approach will work with this chick. And every once in a while that turns out to be correct. She’s a slightly chubby blonde, wears braces even, thinks herself really hot shit indeed, is considered annoying by some…but has a pretty face and I’m not complaining. To anyone else, anyway. With her I’m just kind of breezy and distant and for some reason she eats this up.

When we show up, it’s immediately apparent that there’s not nearly enough beer for eleven people. We brought a 24 pack of Busch, but there’s very little alcohol on hand apart from that. Not to mention, everybody is kind of hungry already. Therefore, we take up a cash collection for more brew, and theoretically some pizza as well. Damon is trying to shmooze the other Melissa, who has curly, dark hair, wears glasses, decent body and face, seems really cool. Alan is attempting to work the magic with one or more of the others. In consideration of this, it’s determined that I will make the big supply run. Tonia wants to come with me, of course. Unfortunately however the redhead’s brother is following her around everywhere, drooling in her footsteps, and insists upon riding along in the back seat.

Our first pit stop is at Hounddog’s, although they are closed for some inexplicable reason. Then again it is a weeknight and after 11pm, so maybe that’s what they’re doing these days. We roll onward to the Big Bear, up the road on High, figure we’ll just get the beer as well as whatever grub we can rustle up here. Throughout Tonia keeps peppering me with questions, but I maintain the same dry, don’t-give-a-fuck routine as always, and she seems to find this the coolest, funniest, most interesting material ever. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not suffering from the delusion that any of this is hilarious or remarkable. Yet you have to remain in character anyway, and as long as I can maintain that, then she continues digging it.

If Paul were around, he would surely be miserable, though. And to some extent would have a point. Were it not for a couple of these fluke outliers, there would be no reason to have ever associated with these sisters. Really, I guess the most amazing aspect is that the other ones don’t torch our causes completely, which is often the case with these huge groups of girls where only a small percentage like you. It’s obviously not a problem if we’re with the smaller configurations of known allies – Melissa, Melissa, Tonia, maybe Melanie, in whatever varying combinations. Anything else has been a waste of time, though, if not an outright semi-disaster.

We tell ourselves in advance, hey, these girls are a little older now, maybe the other ones might take a little more kindly to us and our antics. Nope. And this includes nights like this where we are totally just playing it cool. In fact, our takes on these situations are that they are frequently the more ridiculous acting among us. See the girls drink a couple of cheap domestic beers and babble incoherently henceforth! See the girls (at least one per night, often more; tonight is admittedly on the low end) run off into the night crying over something (nothing)! See the girls insist we finally relent on playing Truth Or Dare, but only ever select Truth themselves, which is absurd considering none of them have done anything interesting to tell anyone about anyway!

Additionally, Melissa and Stan spend half the night locked in the bathroom, not to be seen again. Stan tells everyone with a broad grin, at one point, “Melissa gives great head,” which is presumably related to what they’re doing in there. But at least this counts as an interesting development, you could argue. Otherwise, in a room full of people, Tonia as usual lapses into total know it all mode, which is just something I’m going to have to learn to wait out or tolerate, assuming I have patience for this; the redhead’s brother continues striving to impress her, without success; these other whiny, wet blanket females, don’t change their trajectory one iota; and then there’s perhaps the only remaining salvation, the other Melissa, who remains really chill and cool. Damon seems to have that one locked up on his end, however.

In one of the exceptionally rare Dare turns, she does have to pull down my zipper with nothing but her teeth. Beyond this these young ladies seem mostly interested in comparing numbers, who has done what and how many times. Alan was crushing us at one point, but has been stuck at 18 for an eternity, thanks to his own recently ended monogamous relationship; in the wake of breaking up with his own girlfriend, meanwhile, this past year has seen Damon sail well beyond this figure, he says, and now tops 30; I’m able to dodge this question longer than most, but stick with the patented answer of 3, which nobody ever questions. I continue to believe this works better than the real figure and for certain much better than a bogus inflated one would. Not only that, but you have to know your audience, and in this crowd I’m definitely not convinced those large numbers are doing these guys any favors. They did after all notoriously kick that one chick out of the house for being too slutty – she was over at our apartment crying about it afterwards. And these girls all answer between zero and six themselves, as far as sexual partners. With one key exception, of course: the other Melissa.

It’s probably not a coincidence she digs Damon most of all. When we’re playing this game, she says she’s been with 12. That becomes a baker’s dozen by the end of the night, however. Those two eventually take off together, and we will learn of their exploits later. For now, Alan and I remain at the hotel, grinning and giving them a thumbs up as they leave. We have our own fish to try around here, with varying results.


2) I had rented a room here as my own HQ, having left town, but returning a year later to visit various people. This was the night of that final Woody’s visit, actually, which I planned out well in advance as seemingly the best place to conclude our full slate of adventures, considering it’s stumbling distance from this hotel. Not only that, but I also knew I would be calling my ex-girlfriend Heather when we got back to the room, though exceedingly nervous about this prospect. And am therefore drinking a wee bit more than usual. She keeps late hours, and this early AM one will be the best time for us to chat; this is an attempt to coordinate a reunion, but it’s been about five or six years, so who knows how any of this will go.

At this point, Damon is the last one left hanging out with me, though we met up with others earlier. The room has a spare bed, so he figures he may as well crash there too, then drive to work in the morning. Which surely helps amplify his alcohol consumption also. Not only that, but I’d already purchased some quality beer and stashed it in the fridge over there, to cover and any and all bases.

Well, Woody’s is a depressing ghost town, fallen considerably from its glory days, which isn’t helping matters any. Combine all this and I am in much more of a confessional streak than usual, and wind up telling him a couple things about which he had no clue. It’s been rainy out, and at closing time we are dodging puddles in traipsing across the lot, while continuing to chat. He asks me what Jamie was like in bed, which is funny to me because I was always under the impression that he had secretly banged her. But apparently not. In this funky mood I don’t mind divulging details, though, not at all.

Back at the room, I crack open a beer and dial a number I actually still somehow have committed to memory. A couple of my opening jokes bomb out somewhat miserably, but beyond that Heather and I have a fantastic conversation, one that stretches out beyond three hours. Damon is awake, kicking back in one of the beds and watching TV while listening for most of it. Even as this phone chat extends until 5:30 in the morning. She and I somehow skate around and technically don’t discuss one iota of our past together – instead it’s all about what’s happening now.

I tell her about Mom’s health problems and abrupt coarse correction into heavy drinking, which she has trouble believing. Then again, her mom is dead. And yet grandma Mary is still alive and well! She hasn’t talked to her sister in years, however, after they had a major falling out. I admit I felt like I had no choice but to leave town and move south, though am in this no man’s land right now where that doesn’t feel like home and neither does this, so I’ll probably just keep bouncing back and forth between the two for who knows how long. She’s been working for Victoria’s Secret, which I know Damon finds the most interesting aspect of this entire conversation – out at the Limited compound, but still. That could prove a fruitful association, ahem. So she’s filling me in on how things are going over there. And we make plans to meet later this week.

When I finally crash out, I must have my neck angled at some crazy angle on the pillow, because it is killing me for the entirety of the following day. Comparing notes later with Damon, he says he couldn’t sleep very well, ended up watching some Lenny Dykstra documentary before getting up and heading into work. But that he glanced across the room at me, before splitting, and thought to himself that it looked like my head was at an extremely uncomfortable angle on the pillow. So he’s not the least bit surprised to learn that it is killing me now.

former Woody's Sports Club site Columbus Ohio
Posted on Leave a comment

Columbus Local Podcast

Dolphin Lounge

One of the more enjoyable aspects of working on this site is that I often have no idea what’s going to happen next. You may have perchance noticed that things are a wee bit chaotic around these parts – and that’s totally by design! Or should we say, this is the design you end up with when chasing down whatever random interests happen to appear on your radar. I try to stay as organized as possible, and have a decent idea of things that “need” to be written about…but when that might happen is anyone’s guess. And part of the reason for this is these amazing detours that seemingly pop up out of nowhere. Which soon become the latest road I turn down, to see where they might lead. And the freshest of these at the moment, for me, is this Columbus Local Podcast.

It’s true on occasion that I might be inordinately taken aback by coincidences. Even when knowing they are theoretically just coincidences, it’s hard to ignore them, and not find yourself caught up in their charming sweep. As a result, I commonly consider these a signpost of what I should focus on next. This is how it is for me and the Columbus Local podcast (subtitled Giants Among Us, a sentiment I would wholeheartedly endorse), a show which is up to 55 episodes as of this writing. It was seriously not even a week ago that I happened to stumble upon it, thanks to one newer broadcast featuring The Godz. And emailed the link to a couple friends who were fans of that band, who I knew would dig it as well. Then, just a handful of days later, though I’m convinced there’s no possible way she could have known about this, one of the musicians on an older episode reached out to me, to ask if I’d heard of this podcast and if I could possibly review her episode on here.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that this almost never happens. Though happy with the response my project has gottten thus far, and thankful for its fans, believing that it has an okay sized following, et cetera, I feel like almost always, people are just kind of hanging back and seeing what I might come up with next. There have been very few occasions where someone has suggested a piece, and virtually nobody reaching out ever to specifically request a review.

So with this in mind, it’s understandable that the happenstances of this past week really jump out at me. I think of this as a huge flashing sign that this should become my newest obsession. Which helps in that I find it genuinely fascinating anyway – it’s a show dedicated exclusively to the local music scene, and how could you possibly go wrong there? Especially with its focus upon the history of Columbus music, just as much as the present. And am further blown away by the additional connections that emerge everywhere, as far as bars I’ve frequented, too, and bands seen, some of which I’ve maybe even forgotten about.

Len Damico is the mastermind behind this project and interviews everyone. He plays in a band called Days Gone By himself, but is first and foremost just an intense music nut, which is what inspired his brilliant undertaking here. Without furher ado, then, here’s my thoughts on some of the episodes I’ve listened to:

Episode 1: Larz Raymond

Larz is a drummer of some reknown who has been around the Cbus music scene since the mid 80s or so. He seems like a funny guy with many, many stories to tell, only scratching the surface during this initial episode (he and host Len Damico tentatively agree that there will be more). Raymond is currently playing in a couple different cover bands around town, Toast and the awesomely named Third Degree Sideburn. He also gives lessons, and regarding his history, mentions having played for Desperately Seeking Fusion.

Something about this reference clicks, and I’m now wondering if I haven’t met this guy. One day in the early 2000s a few of us were in Pro Percussion, and one of the employees was showing us some stuff. He also mentions playing with DSF. And was as I recall a wisecracking guy who says something about having a wife and kids. So if ever bumping into Mr. Raymond (or if anyone reading this happens to know), it would be fascinating to make that connection and confirm he did indeed work at Pro Percussion during that time frame.

Among the other local references: Park Street Tavern, Ohio State University

Episode 2: Matt Cistone

This fellow meanwhile, who goes by the nickname “Mr. Matt” (and even has personalized license plates declaring such), is a bass player. He too specializes in cover bands, but has also written and recorded originals and recommends that every musician should do a little of both. Is currently in at least 3 different outfits around town, possibly more, and namechecks the old music equipment chain Coil Music.

Episode 3: Beth Nuzum Cronewerth

An episode which gets off to a comical start as host Len struggles to describe his romantic partner: this episode’s guest, leader of the band Megabeth. This is the third straight episode that has mentioned OSU, so I’m guessing the university’s specter will loom large over this project. She too is involved in countless other projects, another common thread and recurring theme. One of which, apart from her bread n’ butter Megabeth, is a Steely Dan cover band that I’m dying to check out. She also gets bonus points for once considering The Dunning Kruger Effect as a band name.

Overall I’m kind of digging the slant Damico has taken on here with interviewing slightly older musicians. Primarily because they’ve got the stories and the history to fill in many gaps for me, pertaining to my own project here, which are often difficult if not impossible to track down anywhere else. But also I find their attitudes refreshing, in that they’re generally happy with where they’re at now, and glad to just be playing music, in any guise. Whereas with the youngest crowd, as I’ve noted elsewhere, there’s this strange wariness found in the Columbus music scene, as though they’re frequently highly suspicious of anyone who shows interest in their music. Alongside the standard general snarkiness and competitiveness you’re more likely to entertain at that age.

Other local references: Mozart’s Cafe.

Episode 4: Merv Roland

Though now living up around Lake Erie, Merv here hails from Bexley and spent many a year playing out live in Columbus. And indeed, even continues to journey down on occasion to continue doing so. On what is the first phone interview conducted for this series, Roland relates some adventures stemming from his decades on the scene, including one where a member of Brownsville Station stole a piece of his gear. He also offers some key pieces of local history I haven’t heard before, like how when he came up, there was the campus music circuit, and there was the Alrosa Villa circuit, and never the twain should meet. Except somehow, despite being an OSU-area band up to this point, his band caught on opening for another act at the Alrosa, and this helped break down that distinction moving forward.

Among his bands were Bad Haircut, Lost Dog, Rock House, and The Point. Some random local mentions that haven’t cropped up elsewhere (at least thus far in my listening) include Apollo’s and Bill Foley’s shop down in German Village. And of course the expected references to campus, Bernie’s, The Godz, et cetera.

Episode 5: Jon Coleman

His episode begins with a snippet of his own band playing a recent Comfest. This singer and drummer is mostly a frontman now, I gather, and just like everyone else featured on here, has an extensive history and family tree around the Cbus scene. He seems like a good guy and is taking his lumps well, like for example the Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis which could have derailed him, many years ago, though he keeps his spirits up and continues charging ahead as though unfazed. In fact, Coleman relates that his neurologist credits him playing the drums throughout, to explain why his body is in much better shape than expected at this stage in the game.

Coleman has been playing out around town since the 1970s. He was too was in Desperately Seeking Fusion at one point! Other local references include Stache’s and Little Brother’s. Unfortunately his episode does cut out due to a technical glitch, to the ending is apparently permanently lost.

Episode 6: Rob Johnson

This one opens with an amusing bit called Guitarchitecture, which is a piece of a Rob Johnson solo cut. From here what follows is one of the more entertaining interviews I’ve stumbled upon thus far. Currently playing in (the Ohio band named) Clubber Lang, but is another of these guys who briefly brushed shoulders with some famous musicians in the past. Says he purchased his first guitar at Uncle Sam’s Pawn Shop, then briefly went to Lang Music for lessons before moving on to Sonny’s Guitar Shop at the Great Southern shopping center.

I like his attitude and that he says it’s all about serving the song, not trying to impress people with your chops. Even so, he clearly knows his way around his instrument of choice, the guitar. As far as local record stores go, he throws out references to Singing Dog, Magnolia Thunderpussy, and Used Kids. Used to play in Saddleback Shark and Magnitude 9.

Episode 7: David Cothern

I had some trouble getting into this one and had to listen to it twice to really pick up much from it. He seems like a good guy and everything but the episode was somewhat reminiscent to me of how you’ll occasionally encounter a rambling coworker in the breakroom at your job (or for that matter at some live show in a bar) and have difficulty following along with their tales. I think this is because he’s more bopping around and relating disconnected anecdotes, but you don’t get much of a narrative sense from it, of how he got from point A to point B. Then again maybe he listens to it himself and thinks, eh, this probably wasn’t my best interview. I might know a little myself about feeling as though I botched a podcast interview – plus let’s just say have reason to suspect people have a hard time following my tales in person, too. So glass houses/stones/etc. And anyway host Damico says he likes the way Cothern is randomly bouncing around, which is surely all that matters.

As far as specifics, Cothern here says he grew up around Morse Road, in the area between Maize and Northland Mall. Once again another of these guys who cut his teeth on the Alrosa scene, so this is another puzzle piece for me, in my endless quest to connect the dots around this town. There’s a Mark Chatfield reference which takes place at the Alrosa Villa, while Cothern was playing bass for Petty Theft. His other local musical credits include Dirty Side Down and Shock II (I think this is how they stylized their name.) Although from here, he left Columbus, and wound up playing with rock star royalty such as Paul Stanley and Rob Halfword. So clearly he knows what he’s doing, whereas I’m just some dude posting meaningless reviews in a vacuum.

He also gets off at least one timeless quote, here: “if rock n’ roll on its own isn’t gonna help you, just add some pyro.” This sounds like something my buddy Paul Linville might say, actually, which makes me think I probably would hit it off with Cothern if ever actually meeting him.

Episode 8: Paul Weiss

Paul is a relative newcomer to Columbus and doesn’t have a ton of backstory here – at least not years-wise. However he is currently house pianist at Mozart’s Bakery and Event Space (their listed name online – Weiss himself though refers to it as Mozart’s Piano Cafe) in Clintonville. And also apparently has about a half dozen different specialized cover bands going at the moment, too. The Liquor Talking is his main gig in this vein, and they play a somewhat wider range of classic rock tunes, heavy on the Elton and the Billy Joel. But he’s also in The Rolling Rock Show, which sticks exclusively to the Stones, and has also made forays into Steely Dan and Fleetwood Mac tribute acts, among others.

He says he got the Mozart gig because it was on his way home anyway, and he stopped in there to audition. Among the Columbus references are Arnett Howard, Dave Powers, Eldorado’s, Abell Audio (now defunct), Gatsby’s, Donna Mogavero, and Myke Rock. Overall, Weiss is an amusing interviewee, seems like maybe a bit of a goofball. I like that this podcast gives significant airtime to cover musicians, too, because they get short shrift overall in Columbus media. Which has pretty much always been the case, as far as I can tell. I mean, I get it, I too like original bands better in general, and find them more interesting. But these guys reinterpreting rock/blues/jazz/whatever numbers have plenty fascinating careers of their own – and I would say they are probably better musicians on average, because they have to know this material and have the chops to play it, as opposed to just making up their own compositions.

Episode 9: Imber Solis

This was an entertaining and highly informative episode, too. In this one, band leader Imber is joined by her co-writer/keyboardist as well as one of her lifelong best friends. I feel like Solis reveals more about her headspace and process than the other guests I’ve listened to thus far, when it comes to songwriting and performing. Also that I can relate to much of what she and her bandmate are saying at times, such as this seeming inability to stop working on projects. She was actually once the vocalist for The Liquor Talking, back when Paul Weiss first joined that group.

My only wish regarding this podcast is that there were more actual snippets of the music in question interspersed here and there. That’s true of all the episodes, by the way, not just this one. But I know that depending on the platform and the use case, there are often roadblocks to using music in your podcasts. Which seems ridiculous but happens to be true. So maybe that’s why Damico hasn’t included much (at least not that I’ve heard thus far). Or maybe he wanted to focus exclusively on the interviews. Either way, it’s a minor quibble and I’m still majorly enjoying this project.

Noteworthy local references: Natalie’s, Comfest

Episode 10: Brian Weibel

This character seems more closely associated with some suburbs (like Reynoldsburg) or even the entire state than just Columbus per se. Even so, he peppers his interview with a slew of local references. And while not saying much that I would characterize as hilarious, maybe, it’s been one of the better episodes thus far – and a good example of why I tend to favor the narrative approach more than the scattered shotgun anecdote style. I feel like he’s just getting warmed up and then his time is abruptly over, having nowhere near covered everything and with many gaps you’re already aware of remaining. It also helps that he has a smooth voice well suited to this medium, one that makes me think he probably does well as a rock n’ roll frontman.

As one of the younger subjects thus far, i.e. only in his mid to late 40s, he mentions cutting his teeth playing guitar for some nu-metal type bands in the late 90s and early 00s. Before moving onto the likes of And Five Makes Twenty or else Kings Of The Drink (featuring Len Damico as well), with numerous pit stops in between. Often or even more commonly as vocalist than he is on guitar.

Notable Columbus references: Andy Shaw Band, Spikedrivers, Skully’s, Little Brother’s, Martini Affair.

Episode 11: Chance Danison

Chance is a country artist and seems to be an old friend of Damico’s. Amusingly enough, the beginning of the episode appears to be chopped off, but is left as-is. Len says he does not edit these interviews whatsover, which I admire and find to be a major component of its homespun charm. Danison is an engaging interviewee, with a lot to say about the current sad state of mainstream country music. And I dug it quite a bit on that level. But he’s not actually based out of Columbus and the local references are not exactly abundant. He does mention being friends with the guys in the 3C Highway band, who are based out of Cbus, or close enough to it anyway.

Episode 13: Frank Harrison, Jr.

If this isn’t basically an ideal installment, then I don’t know what is. It checks all the boxes. He’s a great guest, flies through a condensed narrative at breakneck speed, drops a ton of names and dispenses some fascinating, often forgotten slices of local history. On top of that, has a great attitude, like many on here – and shares with them that he is also a top notch musician.

This party actually kicks off however with Damico relating a personal anecdote, which is that seeing Harrison play at the Short North Tavern, one night in the early 2000s, is what inspired him to go out and pick up a guitar himself, begin to learn how to play. This is basically the kind of tale that I live for, a good example of why this blog exists, to help connect these dots in this manner. I just find such anecdotes endlessly fascinating.

As far as the particulars of Harrison’s story, whew, holy smokes, there’s a lot to unpack here. One completely unique angle, as far as I’m aware, is that Frank here was actually living in Florida, then moved to L.A. to try and make it, discovered this wasn’t his cup of tea…and only then wound up moving to Columbus, at the behest of a friend, because he thought this sounded like more his kind of scene. So it’s basically a complete inverse of the most common narrative of that era.

Phil Stokes is the friend in question, and Harrison winds up joining him in a band called Shakedown. After this the Cbus references arrive with a furious flurry. Villa East, Sugar Shack (a beloved bar on High Street – not this fucked up diner that later coopted the name), Mr. Brown’s, Vets Memorial, the Agora (later Newport Music Hall), Starz, and Cafe Rock N’ Roll are some of the venues mentioned. As far as bands go, he’s in Shakedown, then Lizzie Borden, before forming Frank Harrison & The Straits (not sure how he spelled that last part, actually.) Their first gig as at Alrosa Villa, opening for Foghat.

There are a couple amusing tales involving Cub Koda (from the band Brownsville Station, best known for Smokin’ in the Boys Room – although that’s also him playing harmonica on Blackfoot’s Train Train) who would eventually jam with Harrison, on at least one occasion, after secretly slipping in to watch one of his shows. Most fascinating of all, perhaps, though, is the time Harrison caught Frank Zappa playing at Vets, met him backstage…and then was somehow able to convince this all-time legend that he really should come out and watch Harrison’s band play, later that same night.

Harrison’s wife apparently escorted Zappa and his entourage (which included guitarist Adrian Belew) up to Oldfield’s on 4th, for a bite to eat, after which they all walked up to Sugar Shack and took in Harrison’s set. He relates that one of the most surreal moments of his career is watching Zappa out there on the floor dancing while the band is playing. It feels mighty otherworldly just listening to this tale, in fact, from the comfort of my home, many years removed.

He estimates that this probably occurred in 1978. It’s another rabbit hole that I will surely pursue at some point, trying to line up all those points and figure out exactly what night it was. After this, in the early 90s, he later forms a new band called Frank Harrison Group. Among other highlights, they begin staging an annual Stevie Ray Vaughan tribute night, at various venues around town. The last of these occurred at Whiskey Dick’s.

Other local mentions of note: Mark Chatfield, The Godz.

Special Guest: Jack Herr

Every so often, Damico has somebody on the show who isn’t currently based in Columbus and/or is not a musician. Both apply to Jack Herr, who is an old friend of Len’s and just happens to be a major music buff. The two of them went to school together in the Westerville South district and have been good pals ever since. Ranking his top shows, Herr mentions seeing Nick Cave at Stache’s, and a Replacements performance at Mr. Brown’s where the roadies played the encore, a good 45 minutes of it with no P.A. as the owner had pulled the plug. It’s a cool episode for your inner music buff, with plenty of famous musicians mentioned and a handful of local venues/acts.

Other Cbus mentions of note: McGuffy Lane, Vets Memorial, St. John Arena, The Matchmatics (local band with matching outfits?), Ronald Cole, and on old club on Morse Road called Peaches which I’ve never heard of before.

Episode 14: Shawn Pruden

Well, this has to be one of the more hilarious chapters, and if not then it certainly boasts the most LPMs (laughs per minute.) This may have something to do with the tequila cocktails Pruden, Damico, and Shawn’s wife Julie are sipping while they chat.

But the tales are often truly hysterical. I’ll leave it to the listener to absorb these, as many occur outside Columbus and are outside the scope of this site. But the local references remaining are aplenty, to be sure, arriving with a fury. I often feel like I need to do a better job connecting the dots on here – both for myself and the readers – and try to organize this random barrage of material a little better. However, an episode like this demonstrates why there are infinite points to connect, and pushing this boulder up the mountainside will never be fully complete.

Anyway, Pruden is currently the bass player in Hott Lucy, who are a cover band that recently began branching out into originals. He has been playing with guitarist Matt Bradley for eons. Got his start roadying for a band called Cold Strike and was hooked for life on the rock n’ roll dream thereafter. One of his first bands was called Four Guys and they played places like Jay’s Sports Lounge. And oh yeah, in his younger years, Pruden used to work at Just Sweats! No way! So there’s a comical segment here where among other things he’s comparing his hair at the time to that of the disgraced John Hawkins. Merv Roland, who was in an earlier episode, is the one who saw his band play and named them Hott Lucy.

Other Cbus mentions of note: Flint Station, Chris Wood/Ace Of Cups, Shuckin’ Bubba Deluxe, Godz, Starz Bar, Gatsby’s, Dan Orr.

Episode 15: Larz Raymond (Redux)

For his return visit, drummer Raymond is instructed to focus exclusively on stories from his stint out in Los Angeles. During this time, he rubs elbows with many famous people, and the tales are fantastic. But not much relating to Columbus during this one. He does mention working at Coyle Music after returning to town. And having attended Capital University during his formative years. At the very end, Damico throws in a reference to Raymond currently teaching at Music Royale, if anyone wants lessons. And that he’s playing out still with the band Toast.

Other Cbus mentions of note: Park Street Tavern, Alrosa Villa

Special Guest: Dennis Kelley II

Another highly amusing slice of the podcast here. This one is actually unique for a few different reasons. First off, though he spent many a year entertaining himself and others singing at karaoke, Kelley considers himself more a music fan than a musician. So the tales he’s relating here are much different as a result. And one aspect to them that I really like is he’s diving in deep with a couple of the tales, and not so much bouncing around all over the place. For example getting in depth talking about the clientele and the bartender at this one place, Jitterbug Cafe, which is exactly the sort of material I’m into, and wished we had a lot more of – although not quite the angle Damico might wish to take all the time with this podcast, obviously. It would be awesome for a different project, though.

And then at the end, he and Damico break out a live cover of George Michael’s Waiting For That Day to close out the episode! With Len on acoustic and Dennis singing, which is also a fresh wrinkle to this enterprise. So that’s really cool, and Kelley absolves himself well on the vocals front. Regarding the whole karaoke thing, though the argument is often advanced (and I’ve said as much on this site, actually) that it helped in part to “kill” live music, I’m not sure that is the case anymore. If you were out on the nightlife scene in the late 90s and early 2000s, at the absolute height of karaoke’s popularity, I feel like this was irrefutable – yes, bars were clearly booking far less bands than they used to. Since that time, however, one trend has kind of waned in popularity while the other has made a bit of a resurgence. Now I believe they more accurately just peacefully coexist and probably don’t have much impact on one another.

Kelley himself actually hasn’t sang out anywhere in years, before this episode. It’s extremely fascinating for him to mention Otani as being one of his former haunts, however, that he was often singing there. Because though I didn’t brave the karaoke waters often myself, the last time I ever did so, as far as I can recall, it was at…Otani. So now I’m wondering if he happened to be there that night and how on earth you’d ever go about determining such a thing.

In a side note, Damico comes up with one of the top laugh-out-loud moments I’ve yet encountered, where they’re discussing how they like their martinis, and Les describes his as basically being a “liquid salad.”

Other Cbus mentions of note (forgive the misspellings on things I couldn’t look up): Jimmy King and his band Kings of the Drink – which used to feature Damico on guitar. Columbus Gentleman’s Suits Society. Sidebar. Donerick’s Pub on Broad. The Martini Affair. Columbus Blue Jackets and some parody song Kelley wrote about them back in the day. 94th Aero Squadron. Some Arnell Damasco guy who apparently ran that Otani karaoke. Bands such as My Kid Sister, Headbanger’s Hangover, Stadium 11. Also the Brewery District.

Episode 16: John Widner

I like this guy’s laidback, humble attitude, which Len himself alludes to at one point. Currently he’s guitarist for Toast and Dirty Red Sunshine, though his pedigree includes a lengthy stint with noteworthy local group The Bellows in the 1980s and early 90s. In his formative years, he took lessons from Brad Taylor of The Godz. Then was hired while still in high school to play for The Bellows, based on a boombox tape he recorded in his basement. They played first Fridays at High Beck Tavern for 5+ years, among other highlights. Won the “Rock Wars” at East Dallas in 1986.

He bought his beloved blue guitar at Cowtown Guitars, from Mark Chatfield personally. The Bellows opened for The Godz on at least one occasion, at Valley Dale Ballroom. His dad led the Jack Widner Trio, which was a popular local jazz band in the 1960s. In recent years, John has been encouraged to sing more in addition to his duties as guitarist.

Other local mentions of note: Chelsie’s, South Heidleberg, Ruby Tuesday, Willie Phoenix, Stauffer’s University Inn, Bistro Lounge, The Continent.

Episode 17: Myke Rock

I’ve heard the name countless times, of course, but never really knew much about the guy until now. A truly fascinating installment intersecting with basically the past 50 years of Columbus music history, plus some stories about other locales. Like he’s already the 3rd musician I’ve listened to on here who went to L.A. in the 1980s to try and hit the jackpot. And so rubbing elbows with various famous peeps here, there, and elsewhere. You get the feeling this guy truly lives and breathes music. Easily the most name-droppingest episode I’ve taken in so far, too, in case you’re wondering whose paths he might have crossed here in Cbus.

Local mentions of note: Rome Records (former recording studio), Screaming Urge (former band), Ray Fuller, Willie Phoenix.

Episode 18: Shaun Booker

This Columbus Blues Hall Of Fame member has been performing basically her whole life, beginning in church at the tender age of 3. She says the blues got a hold of her at that early age, and you have to believe this is true: she is one of just three women inducted into this hallowed circle. At any rate, much like Myke Rock in the previous transmission, you can just tell music is absolutely essential to her being. I’m not the hugest blues fan, but consider her one of the more entertaining interviewees I’ve heard on here, and it made me want to catch her playing live somewhere. Which I did soon afterwards. And I also have this hunch that, if we were to meet, as often turns out to be the case, I might totally hit it off and have a ton in common with someone from a completely different background. Though originally from the Youngstown area, she’s been in Columbus for quite some time, long enough to have played at places like Bernie’s. Kindly click on my Shaun Booker Dammit Band profile to learn a bit more.

Other local mentions: Natalie’s, Gatsby’s

Episode 19: Anne Wilson

We don’t get a ton of backstory with this one, but then the variety in approaches with the various interviewees is kind of nice. She’s been the vocalist for a local band called Six Foot Blonde since about the mid aughts, and has some amusing anecdotes to dispense, like the time Fred Ricart (actually I think this might have been multiple occasions) got up to play guitar with the band during a corporate party. What’s interesting about this episode though is that it’s more of a rumination on life in general, what you might even call philosophical in spots, than so much about her music career specifically.

Len is also a little more chatty than average, as it becomes more of a conversation than interview per se. And in so doing, it makes me realize that this is a great skill he has, as an interviewer overall, and why this podcast works so well: approach these sessions as conversations first. I’ve thus far steered clear of ever attempting to “interview” anyone for this site, mostly because that just seems like a dreadful and awkward experience. If I actually know the person, it wouldn’t be a problem, as that would essentially be a conversation anyway. Actual strangers, though? Not so much. But it’s surely necessary at some point, and I think his example points the way forward. Instead of posing your nerdy little bullet points of questions, and sitting back while the guests ramble at length, turn it into more of a chat. Even when you don’t necessarily know the person extremely well.

As far as other specifics go, Anne does mention getting her start playing at Grandview Cafe, and that she’s collaborated with local musician Rob Armstrong for eons. And playing Hineygate! Yes!

Episode 20: Aaron Buckley

Man, this dude is mighty entertaining. It would be riot to kick back for untold hours and listen to him tell his war stories, or for that matter even just read a repair manual or something. He’s a country performer currently associated with a band called Buckshot and also The Buckley Shot Band. Still, there’s not a whole lot of Columbus-based material here to hang your Stetson upon. He did grow up on the west side and attened Pleasant View Middle School as well as Westland and Franklin Heights for high school. While still a teen, he joined forces with some Larry Wilson guy and joined his gospel group – which were nonetheless named God’s Country Band.

At some point Buckley wound up moving to Nashville, and much of this episode covers that era. Upon his return to this region, I feel like he’s mostly playing on the outskirts if not fully outside of town. Although Damico does mention catching him for the first time at a place called The Red Brick, which is in the German Village area. I’m also endlessly amused by the fascinating little blips, these side notes that don’t pertain a whole lot to the matter at hand, yet tell you something you never knew before – like when Len mentions that where the Anheuser-Busch factory now sits, that used to be a buffalo field.

Episode 21: Chris Cochenour

Drummer for local group The F-Bomb, who are a terrific, hard rockin’ outfit that any fan of such needs to see live. Mike (bass) and Chris have been playing together in various groups since ’89 or ’90, Cochenour estimates. They did one album before he joined the group, but as of this podcast have another batch of originals they hope to release soon.

As far as his pedigree, Chris mentions being in a band called Dirty Annie back in the day, who had their cassette tape played on the Columbus Z-Rock station. Bob Damnit was in Dirty Annie with him, and later the two of them also joined forces in The Damnits for quite some time. The Damnits are actually an ongoing band these days, though Bob has unfortunately passed away and they have a different drummer, too.

Other Cbus references of note: The Pub in Gahanna, Shock II, Alrosa, Newport, Terry Davidson & The Gears, King Of Clubs, some bar called Shakers.

Episode 22: Bart Jenkins

This reknowned upright bass player used to work at, and actually purchased his instrument of choice, at the Sam Ash store on Morse. So in addition to him, I know the guitarist from Tina Holly’s band, and Arty from various bands/venues familiar to the campus and Short North scene, were also Sam Ash employees. And can’t help but wonder if any of these eras overlapped. I’m already trying to wrap my head around some strategy for an interactive family tree or web of connections for musicians and all their musical projects – coming up with something similar for rock venues or even shops like this would be awesome, too.

To cite another example, he says his parents bought him an amp and a bass on his 15th birthday…from the old String Shoppe on campus! There’s another music adjacent beehive of activity where it would be fascinating to list the employees. Anyway, that was his first bass, and he’s been attached to the instrument ever since.

Bart plays for the awesomely named Third Degree Sideburn. He estimates that they formed in 2002 or thereabouts, and he’s been with them ever since. Among the highlights were opening for the Stray Cats’ Lee Rocker at Skully’s one time. John Petric apparently reviewed this show and was none too impressed by TDS. In 2013 he also joined The Digs, a group for which he and sax layer Fred are the only original members remaining, as the others have all been revolving doors. In that outfit, Fred Sharp (also from Bastard Sons Of Neptune and Stolen Fire) plays guitar. And going way back, Jenkins said he was in local band called Clubber Lang – which is different from the current Clubber Lang lads. But jokes they should get together for a split bill sometime.

Other Cbus references: Eldorado’s, Local Roots in Powell, Forty Deuce, Imber Solis, Natalie’s. His first ever show he played was at a place – I think he says – called Dal’s on High.

Jason Endicott (live from Columbus Oktoberfest 2023)

This is an interesting though very short “on the fly” episode in that Damico apparently just met Endicott moments earlier, and decides to roll tape while at this festival. Endicott is the new drummer for Cowtown Inc. – he just joined the band this week! With a running time of just 6 minutes, there’s not a ton to sink your teeth into here. Jason does offer one cool piece of advice, however, when he advises local musicians to “stay focused, stay friendly.” Which is a lesson for pretty much everyone, I supposed. One other interesting side note is that you can hear some other band doing a soundcheck (at least I hope that’s a soundcheck) in the background – it would be cool to figure out who this is somehow.

Episode 23: Cliff Marsh

Local saxophone player who, incredibly enough, just got into playing out live back around 2015 or so. He’s in 270 Famous, Rockhouse Columbus, and Kismet Notes. But has jammed with an eye-popping number of musicians since then, as if to make up for lost time. As such this easily eclipes the Myke Rock installment for name dropping, an absolute flurry of the references that I can’t even keep up with in certain stretches.

Though a bit digressive at times, Marsh seems like an interesting guy, and it would be cool to meet him. I was kind of wondering when the first A.C. Collins reference would show up on this project, and it makes sense that it finally happens here. Cliff arrived here around ’89, from parts elsewhere, and was attending OSU, at one point managing some unnamed restaurant. He says A.C. was one of his first key inspirations. He also mentions Sean Wallace (teaches at OSU) as well as Michael Cox (teaches at Capital University.)

Rockhouse Columbus played last on Saturday night at the ’23 Oktoberfest. Marsh was a regular member of 6 Foot Blonde, Has Beens, The Digs, Blue Spectrum in the past. Among the other interesting references are Lazy Chameleon and Dolphin Lounge. Damico also drops the wild factoid, which I wasn’t aware of, that former Hoodoo Soul Band guitarist Kevin Oliver is now playing with Parliament-Funkadelic these days – or whatever George Clinton currently calls that band.

Episode 24: Ross Davis

I like that Len’s interviewing a somewhat different character this time, in that Davis here is a soundman. So we get a unique perspective on the scene, an angle not yet covered by this podcast. And while I get that not everyone’s going to be interested in this nerdier aspect of the rock n’ roll lifestyle, he doesn’t get too bogged down, for the most part, discussing gear or scientific aspects of recording or what have you. So I personally found this an enjoyable chapter.

However, having said that, I wish there were more specifics given in this episode. Surely with enough detective work I could track down particulars myself, but like Ross mentions owning a recording studio here in town for many years, and unless I missed it, though this eats up a huge portion of the broadcast, nobody gives a name or even definitive location for the studio, and almost no musicians are mentioned as far as who actually recorded here – the only one I caught came from Damico himself, when he relates hanging out there one day when Matt Bradley breezed in for a session.

But anyway…Davis came here in ’98 to do some work for his brother’s band, moved to Cbus permanently himself in ’07. Owned that studio for awhile, but lost it, and is now doing sound for live shows at various venues in the region. Most of the specific Columbus references are tossed out by Len, relatively late in the episode: QFM, Jackass Genius, Red Light Go, Days Gone By, Lovesick Radio, Flint Station, Grandma’s Cookie Jar are some of the names dropped.

Episode 25: Rev. C. Barton Love

This was a gripping episode on many levels. The Reverend here is currently in Devil’s Payroll, which were formerly known as Skillet Lickers. He describes their sound as “garage grass” and “Stonesy Ramonesy George Jonesy.” But he’s a veteran of the scene and therefore dispenses some fascinating tales stretching way back to his early days.

He first started getting involved because his neighbor was in a band called I’m With Stupid. Then was in his own groups G Spot Tornado (a Frank Zappa reference), Broken Circle Gospel Deluxe, and Bubba Hotep (he knows the guy who wrote that, and got permission to use the name before it was made into a movie.) And so he’s playing at or if not then just mingling at all the expected hotspots of that time: Stache’s (says he attended the infamous Nirvana show there,) The Dell, Crazy Mama’s (he mentions doorman Charlie Wonder), Chelsea’s, later Little Brother’s.

He and Len have known each other forever, though, so there’s much discussion about former Westerville haunts as well. Damico says he bought this one special guitar at the Guitar Center on Morse Road specifically to give to Love as a gift, quite a while ago. And then also, on a somber note, Love details the day he was shot in the neck while working at Lev’s Pawn Shop. All in all, quite the compelling listen.

Other local references of note: Lost Weekend Records, Natalie’s, Victorian’s Midnight Cafe, Calico Cupboard, Buzzard’s Nest, Swamp Dog Music

Episode 26: Alecia Houston

She is currently fronting a couple different projects, Houston We Have A Problem as well as Alecia Houston and The Firmm. Both are classic rock and blues bands, but the first is more of an acoustic approach, the latter amps it up. Depending upon the venue, Houston might flesh out these bands with extra musicians, and she says the irrepressible Myke Rock is one of her first choices if doing so. And actually this episode might have now surpassed his, as far as counting the local references, her points of contact between them.

Among the local references are King Of Clubs, Shaun Booker, Willie Phoenix, Kim Crawford, and Eldorado’s. To cite but a smattering. Alecia also tells an amusing story about a stripper trying to join them onstage at this westside bar. I like what she has to say, too, about every venue being a mystery that you have to figure out. And that she feels as though when performing there, she is basically an employee during those hours, and has a responsibility to the business as well as the clientele and the other employees – these are some interesting takes that I don’t recall ever hearing before.

Episode 27: Bob Mains

Bob is a guitarist who has been in not one but two different QFM house bands, Stadium 11 and now Radio City. So he presumably knows his way around a fretboard. He was also a graduate of Westerville South and spends some time detailing his amusing beginnings there, that he had a high school band called Pantera and they played an original song at the school talent show one year. This would have been the early 80s I believe. He went to Tony’s Music in Westerville for some of his early guitar lessons, and later learned some scales from a guy at the String Shoppe. After the original Pantera folded, he joined a group called Kid Gloves who recorded one EP here. Running contrary to many others interviewed on this project, when they left for L.A. to make it big, he decided to just stay put right here instead. At some point he opened for Rosie, Mark Chatfield’s band after The Godz, at the Agora (later renamed Newport Music Hall, of course). And he also opened for BTO, among other career highlights. Currently likes to play in a musicial project with his two daughters, during his down time from Radio City.

Episode 28: Will Newsome

Will here is leader of the band This Day Forever, and also plays guitar with The Martini Affair. His first show with the latter was at Red, White, and Boom in 2015. He has also played with a cover band called The Filthy Habits, and another outfit named Razorbliss.

He seems like a cool guy with a solid philosophical grip on things. So it’s interesting to hear his thoughts on songwriter. Still, as is often the case, I find the really old war stories most compelling of all, and so it is here. He details working at this tiny club called Park Avenue, from ’90-’96, and seeing Tool play there as a result in their early days. Also that Sepultura camped behind the place when they played, during their first ever trip to the States. Fascinating, fascinating stuff.

Other Cbus references of note: Colleen’s Collectibles, Saddleback Shark, Roosters, Ronald Cole, Oak Park Animal Hospital, Tansky Toyota, Lollipop Factory.

Special Episode: Tom House

He is the manager for Shaun Booker Dammit Band. He says he first met her at something called the Hot Times Festival in Olde Towne East. I’m wondering what makes Damico tag certain episodes as “special” ones, though, instead of giving them a number (although sometimes they are labeled as such and use up the number.) It seems that maybe when the interview winds up less musical than expected, then he gives it this designation.

So yeah, you’re not going to hear a ton about Columbus music history here. However, it winds up being a fascinating installment anyway, with a boatload of unexpected references, and countless rabbit holes for me to investigate when I have the time. Wild, wild stuff. For example there are two different true crime cases he’s come into close contact with – his 2nd wife was on America’s Most Wanted for fleeing the country in relation to the National Century Financial fraud case. And the Dispatch interviewed him at one point for his thoughts on such. Prior to that, he says he was watching some band at Vets Memorial and they went out for drinks at the Sheraton afterwards, where their waitress was this woman named Claudia Yasko. Who later gave a false confession for the .22 Caliber Killings – in fact he was out to breakfast with her, he says, when she decided to stroll over to another table and confess to some cops.

Otherwise, for a couple decades he ran his own barber shop. It must have been more than one location because his mentions his first salon being at the corner of Parsons & Oak, and that he later expanded into the next shop over. Then, during Covid times he decided to start staging house parties (no pun that I’m aware of) and this is when he got into the whole band management racket. I also love the soundbite he gives on what you might call his musical philosophy: “let’s just go out & punch em in the face.”

Other Cbus references of note: Billy Milligan, the Daniel Keyes book Unveiling Claudia.

Episode 29: Michael Christian

Though tremendously entertaining, I had some difficulty following this guy at times and might have some details wrong. But believe I’ve got the gist of most of his tales. In most unexpected fashion, a good half his episode concerns his interactions with former UFO bassist Pete Way – I never knew this before, but apparently Way relocated to Columbus at some point. Having quit UFO, Way somehow caught on playing with Ozzy Osbourne (I believe this would have been the Diary of a Madman tour) and met some girl from here, while on the road, after which they wound up living together.

Well, anyway, getting back to Michael Christian’s own narrative: after taking some music lessons at Capital University, and getting into songwriting via a friend of his who worked for a major label, Christian landed this gig as audio engineer at the Newport. And was also working at Frezno Eclectic Cuisine at this time, a Short North restaurant. Anyway, he unexpectedly received a call one day from a buddy of his, saying Pete Way wanted to record an album, and they somehow came up with his name for helming the project.

Michael says he changed out of his restaurant clothes and booked it over to a house on Neil Avenue, where Way was living at the time. That Way answered the door with a gigantic plate of cocaine in his hand, snorting from it while they talk on the porch, even though it’s broad daylight and cars are zipping past in both directions. Anyhow, Christian laughably initially believed they would be able to record this proposed acoustic album in about a weekend – it wound up taking about two years. Despite this much time spent with Way, when released in 2007 under the name Acoustic Animal, Pete’s personally penned liner notes got his name wrong in the initial pressings.

As far as his Newport dealings, Christian says his first day on the job was a George Clinton show, and the second Slash’s Snakepit. Doing my own research, it appears that this must have been 2001. The P-Funk show would have been June 28th of that year and Slash’s on July 1st. Amusingly enough, as this occurred smack dab in the middle of his dealings with Way, he says he was standing there talking with Slash for the first time ever when Pete called and asked him to get tickets for the show. When Christian demurred, on grounds of it already being sold out, Way demanded to speak to Slash. Who as it so happens is a huge UFO fan and apparently made it happen.

Otherwise, concerning his own current dealings, Christian plays guitar occasionally with a band called Red Velvet Letdown. He’s landed songwriting credits with some major, though unspecified, acts. Is also involved with an organization called All THAT (Teens Hopeful About Tomorrow) which offers a wide range of counseling and mental health services for local youths.

Episode 30: David Harris

Founder of band LoveSick Radio and also a member of one called Crashing Wayward. Says they don’t use prerecorded backing tracks live! Which is reassuring to hear, although it also seemingly confirms what many of us have speculated – that other locals secretly do. I once accused the Snow Shoe Crabs of such (whether correct in this instance or not), for example, and the singer replied, “yeah, I got your click track right here,” in semi-threatening fashion.

As far as David Harris, he mentions having recorded some stuff at Sonic Lounge. Mentions John Schwab Studio also, Rome Studios on South High, David Cothern, QFM 96.

Episode 31: Todd Bettler

Bettler is bass player for Stadium 11, also fills in occasionally for Radio City. As is often the case, while I enjoy hearing what everyone’s up to these days, the back story usually proves even more fascinating to me. Says he used to take swim lessons somewhere on Morse, as a kid. Originally from the Westerville area and mentions Yogi’s Hoagies, a place called the Grit Pit. Somewhat of a self-admitted hoodlum from the sounds of things, in his early days, before stumbling into a career playing music. Was in a band called Petty Theft which toured extensively, then when that fell apart, he enrolled at Columbus State, Otterbein, et cetera and began taking matters a little more seriously.

He eventually wound up playing with a group called Black Rose Bloom, who stuck around long enough to release one album. Has also recorded a cover of a Firefall song with a group called The Rules. Then fell in with the Stadium 11 cats and the rest is history. Whilst recording this episode, they are sipping on some leftover tequila that Shawn Pruden brought for his installment – I don’t know why, but I find this background continuity, linking certain episodes, to be quite charming. And also dig/agree with what these guys are saying that the music scene seems a whole lot less combative now than it used to. Although I think it’s only half due to “the scene” itself and people evolving better attitudes than we had back in the 90s and 80s and earlier…the other half is you’re just not as snarky as you get older, it seems to me. Or at least certainly a lot less concerned with what other people think about your projects, and trying to compete with them.

Other Cbus mentions of note: Buckeye Mart record store in Westerville, Big Bear, Mojo Crow, Slapsy’s Maxie’s, Dirty Side Down, Lazy Chameleon, Fender’s.

Episode 32: Brian Kerr

Brian is a member of The McIans Acoustic Duo/The McIans Full Band (depending on the venue/gig and therefore how many members are involved.) And discusses at great length his highly unique strategy when performing solo, which is to play one part and run it into a looping machine, then play something else over top of it, and so on and so forth.

As far as his formative years are concerned, he cites seeing Stevie Ray Vaughan and speaking to him during a meet & greet at the Newport as being the spark which set him on his musical path. Motorfly was his first musical venture in Columbus (Chris Cochenour, interviewed in a previous installment, was their drummer), who played Slapsy Maxie’s and other such bars around town. He was also heavily involved in the open mic nights at Dolphin Lounge. After that, Brian played with Six Pack Theory before setting into his current slate of projects.

Other Cbus references of note: Barrister Hall, Hellroys.

Episode 33: John Homan

Homan is currently the drummer in Clubber Lang. Their first shows, he estimates, were in the summer of ’22, so they’ve already built quite a name for themselves in a relatively short time. Of course, prior to this, he has been in all sorts of projects with that band’s guitarist, Rob Johnson.

John started playing the drums in high school, then went to OSU for awhile. Was in a band called Poorboy, then joined Alcazar as a replacement for somebody else. At some point he started jamming with the guys in Saddleback Shark, who immediately decided he was their new drummer, even though they already had one – that guy was given the boot. This is when he first began playing with Rob Johnson, though they would later collaborate in a band called Magnitude 9 for a few albums, as well as Rob’s solo efforts, before teaming up in Clubber. Homan was also in the Black Rose Bloom project, which was mentioned in a previous episode. As well as many others over the years, such as Blue Cuda (forgive my spelling on some of these, if they happen to be incorrect.)

other Cbus references of note: Shock II, Lazy Chameleon, Turtle Creek, Eldorado’s, Alrosa Villa, Tamerlane.

Episode 37: Tina Holly

This one features what is thus far the funniest story I’ve heard in these interviews, which is how Tina even became involved in the Columbus music scene. A relative newcomer to this circuit, Holly was a Mt. Gilead resident and technically not even living here at the time, when she first met Willie Phoenix in the Eldorado’s parking lot – by almost plowing into him with her car, as he had just walked out of the building. Rolling down her window to apologize, the two began conversing, and it was he who suggested she should start playing drums for a local band. Hence her subsequently joining forces with Brian Clash.

Their guitarist used to work at Sam Ash; aside from that some of the other shout outs of note are the all-female quintet Wednesday Wine (her favorite local group), 614 Rock, Hilliard Music School (where Tina first began taking lessons, a mere seven years ago), Hilliard Shopping Network. Tina’s also someone wearing a million different hats, among them music teacher and even published author – Holly has cranked out four books to date.

Episode 39: Tiffany Bumgarner

Tiffany, meanwhile, has to be the most amusing overall interviewee I’ve heard on here. Though she began performing onstage with her mom at an early age, she got her first real break while working at the Coconuts Music Store on Morse Road. This was the mid 90s and a coworker, overhearing her sing, said she had a great voice. He just happened to be an OSU student living on campus (imagine that) and was putting together his own scrappy little band (doubly shocking). Though she was only 16 at the time, he invited her to sing for them. A project which eventually turned into Stone Velvet.

From here she launches into a virtual Who’s Who of the late 90s and early 2000s scene, which happens to be the era I’m probably most familiar with: playing at Stache’s, Chelsie’s, and Ruby Tuesday; mentioning bands such as Miranda Sound, Templeton, and Poophouse Reilly; and so on. Then at a later date, fronting the cover band Radio Tramp for over a decade. She also uses this episode to announce that she has just joined The Martini Affair as their lead vocalist.

Bonus Cbus mentions: Red White & Boom, The Barn, Hot Spot Tavern

Episode 48: The Godz

So here we have the episode that finally made me want to check this podcast out. Even though I’ve been following the Instagram account for quite some time, and would heart the photos, et cetera. Seeing that these legendary rockers had made the cut and were back in business, yeah, I knew this was required listening.

I can’t realistically claim to have been the hugest Godz fan in the world or anything. But they were kind of like the hard rock version of McGuffey Lane in these parts, or something, in that you knew they’d been somewhat of a big deal back in the day, had maybe landed a nationwide hit or two, then sort of fizzled out due to or alongside various lineup changes. Unlike McGuffey Lane, however, I remember actually hearing said hit on the radio, into the 90s or even the 2000s, where you still might catch Gotta Keep a Running on the airwaves every now and then.

The local angle has made them of particular interest to me, of course. And yet there’s always been a frustration there with the inability to find out a ton about them online. Therefore these interviews are especially priceless, for helping to fill in the gaps. Beyond even that aspect, though, I found this group chat way more fascinating than expected. They are mostly hilarious interviewees, it’s true, but another angle soon emerged which I had honestly never considered until tuning in to this episode – the vicarious thrill of knowing some of these places they’re referencing, and maybe even some of the people.

My ears first perk up when they mention some early days of living on Summit Street and jamming in the basement. That this is where they first began spray painting all their equipment white. Other ultra intriguing mentions include their having played at Eldorado’s quite a bit, and also a semi-residency at Alrosa Villa. Listening to them makes me realize yet again just how much history that everyone possesses. Doug relates (a recurring theme, as we shall soon see) having ventured out to the Sunset Strip in the 80s and even rooming with Vince Neil at one point; they’ve all got a million different projects going at present, of course, of which The Godz is just one and maybe not even the top priority; and then also, without intending any disrespect for anybody else, Mark Chatfield is easily the most compelling figure here by far, considering he’s the last original member left. But then, oh yeah, he happens to have been in Bob Seger’s band for quite awhile, too (the only time I’ve actually seen him play live) and also tacks on like an afterthought at the very end that he’s currently a member of Grand Funk Railroad. He never even mentions Cowtown Guitars, a gear store I remember from years ago, up on 161. I don’t know if this is modesty or a very Columbus-esque personality trait where it seems like everybody has a million projects up in the air, and your attitude is somewhere between, “eh, I guess this was kinda cool, but whatever,” and, “dude, I’ve got so much crap going on that I don’t even have time to keep up with it all!”

Other Cbus mentions of note: Valley Dale Ballroom, Capital City Rockets, Chelsie’s, and a bunch of other stuff that is no longer around.

Episode 52: Dolphin Lounge

Breaking with precedent to some extent here, this time around Len focuses on a bar itself, in this case Gahanna’s Dolphin Lounge. Owner Lori Dolphin (not her actual last name) says she wanted to celebrate 52 years of live music by being episode 52. Which is only fair enough, considering that they have the longest running continual blues jam in the United States.

I have been in here a few times, and have mixed emotions about the place. But eh, maybe we’ll save that for a later date, whenever I get around to the inevitable dedicated Dolphin Lounge page (this is my latest strategy for deferring negative comments: I’ll tackle that in a later post! Sure, that’s it!). This is only fair, considering my experiences here date from the late 90s anyway. It’s still an enjoyable episode, like this little tidbit about Eric Clapton once dropping by unannounced to play here, back when he married that young lady across town. Or how Lori’s mom saved every single demo tape/CD anyone ever gave her, clear back to the club’s opening.

Other notable Cbus mentions: Columbus Monthly, Ric Boals

Posted on 2 Comments

Gabby’s

Gabby's front entrance

Out of all the Columbus area bars we have hung out in on a regular basis, perhaps none is more average than Gabby’s. And that’s totally okay! Average is a solid mid-range score, is nothing to be embarrassed about. And in fact, you can make a compelling argument that when it comes to bars, on a certain kind of night, average is often exactly what you are looking for.

It’s just that there isn’t a ton here to distinguish this tavern, in any way. The interior is as anonymous as the clientele – for the most part – and there are no strong drawing cards otherwise, unless this back patio counts, during the warm weather months. They had karaoke here, back when this was watering hole was in our standard rotation, and a pleasant, cozy atmosphere. It was a convenient and likeable enough spot that this became something of our base camp for about a year and a half. However, owing in part to its unusual location – on a commercial circle you wouldn’t expect to encounter in the middle of a residential neighborhood – it’s unlikely we would have ever stumbled onto it, if not so close to where I was renting an apartment at the time. And, owing to its averageness, just as improbable that we would have made extensive cross-town voyages to such. But it was here and nice enough, and therefore suited our needs to just fine.

We would wind up having our share of inevitable highights here, too, of course. Highest ranking for me is the night I managed to bring home a very attractive brunette whom I had met here just a couple hours earlier – this only happened a few times during my Cbus career, going home with some woman on the same night I met her (as in, for one-on-one amorous reasons, not like some girls coming back to a party or whatever), and she was the best looking of the bunch. At the opposite end, maybe, and indicative of how anonymous this place is, Damon and I had been regulars here for months upon months and had basically just begun our involvement with Megan and Amber, respectively, during this occasion where those two said they wanted to go play pool somewhere. He and I immediately suggest Gabby’s, and climb in Megan’s car, only to arrive here and discover…they had no pool table. It’s just not a very big bar, and nonetheless, we we were positive they had a table in here somewhere. These girls are laughing, yet perplexed, furrowing their brows and saying something to the effect of, “I thought you guys said you come here all the time?”

Falling somewhere in between is this interview I taped, with my good friend Paul Radick, shortly before he moved to Florida. I wanted to capture his memories of his years playing in the band Bedlam while we still had a chance to, not knowing for sure how long it might be before I would see the guy again. At the time, I was planning on writing a history of the band, but, well, let’s just say I later decided it was probably for the best to shelve this concept – directly as a result of this tape.

For the record, I take full responsibility for this episode, the fallout from this recording. And yet in a way, I’m actually glad that it happened – because if certain people were this heated about a few of the quotes, then it’s best that we aired this out before I published a book featuring said quotes. So yeah, this pretty much nixed that entire concept. As for specifics, let’s just say it was a night about a year or so down the road where Paul returned to town, and a bunch of us went out for drinks. Then returned to my place, where I somehow got the idea, as Damon started jamming on some music, that I would get on the mic and recite some of Paul’s most famous quips, as a “tribute” to him…which then led to this really awesome idea that I would bust out the Gabby’s interview tape, and run that through the amp instead, over top of the music that Damon continued to play.

Well, in my defense, it was all in the name of good fun, and if I had any inkling that anybody would get this bent out of shape about some of Radick’s quotes, then I never would have broadcast the thing. Was it a bush league move? Absolutely. I don’t think too many reporters who take themselves seriously would engage in such tomfoolery. Then again, were Hunter S. Thompson in the room, I’m sure he would have been rooting me onward, encouraging this stunt. So whatever. I didn’t recall there being anything too harsh on this tape – and still believe that to be true – but again, in roundabout fashion, it’s for the best that this happened. Some of this sorting as far as which direction we were headed in was inevitable, in retrospect, and if it weren’t this incident dividing us into separate camps, then it would have been another.

So one of the people present, a subject of some amusing soundbites contained within, is less than pleased. The party instantly breaks up, such as it is. He calls me at work the following morning and chews me out at great length, with some mighty colorful language, before abruptly hanging up. To this day, that is the last occasion where we ever spoke on the phone. I wouldn’t say I’m really the grudge holding sort, more that sometimes people instantly slot themselves into this category where I basically never think about them again. He was kind of instantly out of my circle in that moment, because I’m a busy guy and don’t have time for that stuff, and it just never occurred to me to pick up the phone and call his number ever again after that. And when something like this does happen, I feel like I don’t go around badmouthing people a ton, rather that I’m much more inclined just to avoid even mentioning their name. Which is pretty much always the situation here, too.

Well, okay, so I will probably explain that whole episode in greater detail at some point down the road. For now, though, this interview remains fascinating for reasons that have nothing to do with its original stated purpose. It’s funny how often this turns out to be the case, regardless of the subject. Anyway, I recall it was a warm spring night (May 2, 2001 to be precise) and we were sitting on the back patio, that our waitress just so happened to be moving to Florida soon herself. However, I would have sworn this was a chill atmosphere, with only a few other tables occupied – and yet, listening to this interview now, the background noise of the patrons often threatens to drown us out. Also, I don’t recall them playing CDs or the radio back here over the speakers, and yet at one point you can hear Van Halen’s I Can’t Stop Loving You cutting through the noise.

Anyway, here’s a short snippet of the least controversial section: a brief interaction with our waitress. Is this an amateur move, posting it here? I have no idea. But at some point you have to actually, you know, do something with this material. If someone takes offense at this then I guess I really should just hang it up. But yeah, if by some miracle our waitress ever stumbled onto this and complained, then I would totally take it down, though.

II.

These days, Gabby’s Bar is fairly active on Facebook, although they refer to themselves as Gabby’s Tavern on there. I follow them and occasionally see an update, but haven’t set foot inside the place in quite some time. Amusingly enough, on their Facebook page, they link to a Mapquest profile which people are still leaving comments on as recently as 2022 – I don’t know why, but stuff like that cracks me up, the ancient technology and forums and sites which refuse to die.

This could be a metaphor for the bar itself, actually. Many other businesses have come and gone from this neck of the woods, yet Gabby’s continues to thrive. Based upon the photos of a wood grain looking interior, I would say that hasn’t changed a ton. Ditto the old photographs, often black and white pictures of Hollywood stars from yesterday, and occasional weird art pieces on the walls. Nowadays the focus seems to be on live music, and a renewed dedication to serving food (in fact, I don’t even remember what their grub was like, or if they even had any, back in the early 2000s) such as coney dogs and wings. Did they ever get that pool table, though?

John Hensel is listed as owning Gabby’s from sometime in the 1980s to at least 2022. That’s a remarkable run and it seems unlikely there are very many figures around town who can top this. Actually the Donatos and the Dairy Queen on this circle have both been there since ’97 if not earlier, which also feels like an amazing accomplishment – and Gabby’s has both of them handily beat, because it’s been in operation from 1983, possibly even before then (I can’t seem to find anything else that might have been at 1887 Tamarack Cir N prior to this, nor when Gabby’s itself opened). But whatever the case, even if only existing since ’83, there can’t be many in Cbus who have been in operation this long with the same name.

In October of 2008, Hensel is quoted in the Dispatch concerning an article about some recent break-ins throughout this area. “Forest Park itself is fairly safe,” he says of this region, as someone who lives nearby and also believes the local crime was worse in the ’80s. In 2005, he locked horns with the city over the recently enacted smoking ban, hiring an attorney to fight it – but of course, we all know how this turned out. Finally, I found another sweet Dispatch piece from 1985, which is touting their recently expanded beer garden, with a photo of some Oakland Nursery employees partaking of it and some cold adult beverages back there. Apparently the patio was among the first of its kind on the north side, and won all kinds of awards.

According to this article, Gabby Hartnett was once a co-owner, which is where the place got its name. Surely this could not be the former baseball great, however, although I can’t really tell you that for sure. At the time of this piece, Nancy Grote is the owner, though it is “operated” by Donatos, whatever that means, and therefore serves the full range of that pizza chain’s offerings here. Jim Oeffler is listed as the manager, too, to further muddy these waters on exactly who is running the show here. Apparently the back patio was only “open” through October, and while that might still technically be true, I suspect that nowadays if you want to sit out there drinking your beer like an idiot in the middle of the winter, they would probably let you.

“This is not a loud and rowdy bar,” Grote tells reporter Shelly Bishop, “we have tried to create the environment of a small English pub in an American neighborhood tavern, and I think we’ve succeeded.”

Okay, well, that’s about all I have on this bar at the moment. This strikes me as a short piece, and I always tend to cringe at posting something less substantial. But kind of need to get the ball rolling on this site, and can’t dedicate months to every single item on my to-do list (there are probably at least 100 I have on my little sheet here, of posts that still need written). So this is what I’m going to press with.

I do have a couple more Gabby’s pictures to share. One of these is the result of a camera malfunction, although these can sometimes wind up looking somewhat cool. In this instance, if not for the other back patio photo above, you wouldn’t know what this is. But compared side by side, it becomes pretty obvious:

Gabby's back patio distorted

Then this one is from the “front” parking lot, along Tamarack Circle, although curiously I don’t remember us ever using this lot or its entrance. The one behind the place, which was larger and more centrally located, was always much more convenient, particularly as we were usually coming up from Tamarack Blvd most of the time anyway.

Gabby's parking lot sign
Posted on Leave a comment

Ludlow’s

The Menus in Columbus Ohio

It’s another chilly Friday night that finds Damon, Megan, Amber and I driving down to the Brewery District, so that we might watch The Menus play at Ludlow’s. The Menus are of course a cover band, but they play a really energetic and varied mix, easily the best and most popular such act around these parts. Actually, they’re not even from here, they hail from Cincinnati, but are obviously in Columbus quite a bit. In fact I’ve probably seen them live more than any C-bus band at this point, with the possible exception of maybe Superstar Rookie. But that would be it. Amber and I dance together quite a bit, those other two not so much.

At one point, the girls head to the restroom, and just about as soon as they leave, here come Stephanie Nupen and Stephanie Porter gliding over to say hello. This feels a little too staged, as though they had to have been watching us, unbeknownst to Damon and me, and waiting for just such a break in the action. Nupen seems extremely happy to see we two fellows, for some reason, and throws an arm around both of us. Both of these girls, I should mention, look better than they had even a few short years ago.

“Hey, sorry about that night,” Damon says, apologizing for a wild time at our apartment, nearly four years ago, which we’ve never had a chance to discuss like this. Though hearing through the grapevine Stephanie was totally cool about everything that transpired…her friend Dawn, however, was not so much. “Things got a little out of hand,” he adds.

“Oh, fuck that girl,” Nupen replies, “she’s a psycho anyway.”

So this is cool to hear, that she’s also had a falling out with her former friend and it wasn’t just us. Porter’s friendly, meanwhile, but we don’t know her as well, and she doesn’t have much to say. Then some preppy guy slides into the picture, it seems pretty obvious that he must be here with Nupen. He drags her away, shooting some evil eye over his shoulder back at the two of us, and Porter saunters off with them as well.

Damon, meanwhile, who is messed up on the cough medicine he’s been taking for his cold, on top of the beers he’s been pounding, is in just the right mood to shout after them, “it’s okay, buddy, I’ve got a picture of her PUSSY at home!”

This is true. We do. But more importantly, Megan and Amber return right after this, missing this spectacle entirely. And we never mention any of it to them.

Damon and Megan mostly just stand in the middle, by some railing on the ground floor, talking. I twirl around some with Amber, like we’re halfway just goofing off, for example Smooth is playing and I enact one of those maneuvers where I spin her out at arm’s length, our hands just barely touching, then draw her back in, as she spins I think in the middle of this improvised choreography. Then I kiss her as she returns to me. Otherwise, however, we have serious matters to discuss.

Like earlier in the night, when we’d first arrived, she hikes up one pant leg to show me these knee high go-go boots she’s wearing. I hadn’t noticed, but this is a bit of an in-joke between us now, stemming from a night where she said to me, “so…Tawnya and I were talking, and we agree that you have a foot fetish!” I had never heard this before, never really considered it, even. But don’t dispute that notion, either – it seems in my best interests to play along, and who knows, it might be true.

“You know all about my foot fetish,” I tell her, favorably commenting upon the boots, which are a new piece in her repertoire.

“Uh huh,” she beams, pulling her pant leg back down.

Then later, we’re standing side by side, the others to the left of us, watching the band, kind of leaning into one another with my arm somewhat around her. At least until she pulls away to grab a section of her still quite lengthy, and gorgeous, curly light brown locks, as she holds this out for inspection, declaring, “I got my hair cut. See?”

“I thought it looked a little shorter,” I tell her.

“Cut it myself,” she says.

“Can you cut mine?” I ask.

“Sure,” Amber replies. “But I cut my brother’s one time and it was all uneven, it was short in some spots and spiky in others.”

I conclude that this is nothing a hat won’t cover up, and insist that I am down for this experiment.

Throughout all this, with basically just an hour and a half at our disposal, Damon and I have been buying rounds of beer to make up for lost time. Just before closing Damon returns with another round, and Amber groans, protests, “I’ve got to work in the morning!”

Jokingly nudging Megan, I say, “it must suck, you know.”

“Well, what time do you have to work tomorrow?” Amber questions.

“Not until late,” I tell her, with an antagonizing wink, “I schedule myself late on Saturdays so I can stay out and party on Friday nights.”

“Maybe I don’t want to make my own schedule!” she fires back at me, in jest.

Once outside, the bitter air stings, seems to wrap itself like arms around us. Both girls especially – in flimsy sleeveless dresses – are freezing. I wordlessly shrug my own coat off and throw it around Amber’s shoulders as we trudge toward where we’ve parked. Damon even offers Megan his treasured hoodie, although she, apparently not realizing the magnitude of that gesture, equivalent to entrusting some random beggar with the holy grail, declines. A little further ahead, the ladies insist that Damon and I limbo under the arm of that parking garage exit thingie.

II.

Ludlow’s was a bar located in the Brewery District, at 485 S. Front Street. Though given this address, it was actually located off the street, facing sideways, toward the courtyard between it and what is currently known as Brewmasters Gate (apostrophe optional – though nearly every city guide I reference lists the name as “Brewmaster’s Gate,” the etching in stone above the entrance arch says Brewmasters. So take your pick). And nothing is currently at this specific spot right now.

The last event listing I can find for them is a show by The Vestals on June 19, 2004. This sounds about right, although it’s still astounding to consider the swiftness with which this extremely trendy and popular live music venue – much like the bars of Brewery District as a whole – fell out of favor. I know that Ludlow’s closed completely at some point in late 2002 or early 2003. Then in in May of 2004 the people who own Brewmaster’s Gate reopen it, as part of a 3-for-$5 package that also includes the Green Room. But interest is still minimal – too many bars here, in my estimation – and they’re eventually charging no cover to get into all three places. The Vestals came here from Minnesota, but admission was free, which is possibly all you need to know.

We saw The Menus play here a ton. In fact these are the only occasions I can remember coming to Ludlow’s, to watch them perform. The above foray was a handy one I easily found in my journals, and probably the most memorable, but there are others I will surely get around to digging out someday.

But what happened to this club? That’s the real burning question. And so maybe a deep dive into the archives is in order, to see what I can find after a little digging around…

Ludlow’s opened in May of 1994, and was initially a Thursday to Sunday operation. Prior to its arrival, the Brewery District is a much more tepid affair, with happenings at the Patio ending at 11pm and not much else going on otherwise. Slicing off an 8500 square foot section of the giant Wasserstrom Building, Ludlow’s figures to change all this, renovating the space as a proper live music venue while preserving some original touches, such as the brick walls and exposed wooden beams.

“We are approaching it cautiously,” manager Mike Edwards says in a Dispatch piece dated 2/4/94, “we are trying to find the formula for success.”

Launching at last on May 26, a Thursday, among their live acts this first summer are Freddy Jones Band and John Gorka. During its down time, meanwhile, the space makes itself available for events, like the DesignTour II business creatives extravaganza which hosts its reception here in June. Dash Rip Rock play here in November, another notable show featuring Watershed as its supporting act, but the venue is still in its infancy, and will take a few more years to fully hit its stride.

Chris Duarte’s performance in February of ’95 earns a Dispatch review by Bill Eichenberger, and is really the first noteworthy coverage I could find while recently researching Ludlow’s. And yet some kinks remain to iron out, if indeed they ever are. Musician Bob Sauls, from the opening band, is condemning the sound here, as these high ceilings tend to swallow the music whole. According to Eichenberger, Duarte overcomes this problem in part with an onslaught of guitar shredding, to the delight of the couple hundred or so hardcore fans on hand. Yet appealing to crowds larger than two hundred, who for example are maybe not into a blitzkrieg of blues guitar shredding, is one nut this venue has yet to fully crack – although by this point, they are commonly open more than just four days a week.

Just three nights later, for example, on a Tuesday, Eichenberger takes in Todd Snider here, and writes a mostly glowing review the next day. These acts seemed to basically summarize Ludlow’s approach at this time, however: out of town bands you’d maybe sort of heard of, but were unlikely to go see unless you’d actually listened to them. Word of mouth hasn’t caught on to the extent people will just show up to see whatever, thus the draw remains somewhat limited.

Then again, they do have Cake on a Friday night in May – a little bit before that band really took off, yet possibly the most high profile booking to date anyway – and hot on its heels is a bash called Summerfest ’95 headlined by Marshall Crenshaw, which is split between Ludlow’s and its sister Patio operation. To me this signals not only that the venue itself is coming of age, but also that this district as a whole has hit its stride as a party destination.

From the mid 90s onward through the early portion of this new millennium, this suddenly hot Brewery District area is on fire. A March ’96 show at Ludlow’s for instance features indie rock sensation The Rugburns…as an opening act, for local band Howlin’ Maggie. In June, they open up their parking lot for a “Southern Comfort Rocks The Blues” all day show. On that day, under a brutal, blistering heat (and at least one rain shower), the likes of George Clinton, Taj Mahal, and Keb’ Mo, and others will take turns gracing the makeshift stage for a solid ten hours.

And the names are getting slightly bigger over time, or at least more fashionable: Duncan Sheik, The Verve Pipe, Semisonic. Luscious Jackson. The Wallflowers. At the same time, the calendar is not so crammed with dates that they can’t open their doors to one-off rentals, like sheriff Jim Karnes’ big reelection party in November of this same year.

Wilco graces this big vaulted interior in early 1997, even. But for my friends and me, we only truly become interested in this place near the tail end of the decade, when some much maligned yet hugely popular cover bands are booked here on a regular basis. I say “much maligned” not due to any quality concerns, but only because these outfits, hopping from venue to venue on one long soundwave of beloved party classics, are controversial in some circles. Local bands trying to peddle their originals to the masses are often disgruntled over the drawing power of these groups. Not only that, but in my experience, plenty of regular hipster type music fans around town will consider you plenty cheesy merely for going to watch one of these performances.

My responses to these complaints, other than the numerous times I surely said some variation of “eh, who cares,” were mostly two-fold, maybe even three or four. First: at least this is live music. If you’re this up in arms, maybe go after the karaoke industry. When you manage to successfully drive that scourge out of town, then we can perhaps discuss these cover bands. Other than that, though, the ladies would often prefer checking out one of these frivolous and fun party ensembles, dancing and singing along with song after song that they already know and love, in a packed, vibrant atmosphere, rather than some local rockers mumbling originals to a crowd of fifteen. And if we are out with said ladies, particularly if fresh recruits we are attempting to woo in the early stages of courtship, then chances are this is what we’re going to do. Beyond these primary points, however, you have to consider that I’ve seen more than my fair share of the local guys peddling their own wares, too. Plus, I’ve also always had an insatiable interest in learning as much as I could about pretty much every corner of this fair city, and this represents yet another tiny sliver of that neverending quest.

The Menus are the first act to convince us we should brave these waters, after a solid year or two of discussing it. I could be wrong – we’ve seen them so many times, at Ludlow’s especially, that these begin to blur together – but if I’m not mistaken, this maiden voyage is a night that Doug and Leah, who are veterans of this scene at this point, convince us to join them down here. And if this wasn’t the first time, then the night I’m thinking of is close to it, with Damon, Paul, and me for sure, and I believe Alan as well joining those two, perhaps some others, as we finally get to witness this band. They hail from the Cincinnati region, but cover the entire state and possibly beyond to a staggering degree. Everyone always whispers that the singer is Jerry Springer’s son, too, and while I don’t know if that is total horseshit or not – mostly because I think we don’t want it disproven, therefore never look it up, or even ask him outright on the handful of occasions where we speak to the guy – he definitely has the showman chops down, either way.

He even has this little dressing area set up on the side of the stage, for his frequent costume changes. The four musicians in the group, meanwhile, range in age and appearance from boyish college-esque dudes, to someone who could maybe stunt double for AJ Angelo, to the evidently much older keyboard player, with his long greying hair, typically a jean jacket, all around looking like he could pass for a member of AC/DC. Oh, and he is also sipping NA beer all night, which hints at a decadence buried somewhere in his past.

“Let’s put it this way,” Damon says at one show, “nobody starts out drinking non-alcoholic beer.”

They all have mad chops, though, and I even seem to recall the drummer playing in a cast at some point. Dedicated to their craft, though, and also somehow finding time to learn hot new songs as these arrive on the airwaves, on occasion, or always throwing in an oldie or two you’ve never heard them play before. And though going over extremely well everywhere, they seem tailor-made for Ludlow’s, somehow, it isn’t difficult at all to picture them as the house band here, for as many nights a week as they care to play. There are others, of course, for example the Snow Shoe Crabs are mining a similar vein at this time, but The Menus wear the uncontested crown.

III.

Ludlow’s sticks around long enough to cross the bridge into an altogether different era, to the extent you just assumed they would be in it for the long haul. By the summer of 2002, there could not have possibly been a more insane block to visit, in all of Columbus, than Brewmaster’s Gate on a Friday or Saturday night. Yet this attraction declined twice as swiftly as it blew up, a staggering reversal that I still can’t quite believe. The courtyard between the two buildings was crammed full of bodies, not to mention the sidewalks (and street itself, half the time, it seemed) of Front, but most of all the bars lining it, of which Ludlow’s and Brewmaster’s Gate were but two. Banana Joe’s for example was another such casualty, and I don’t feel like I’ve ever heard a definitive explanation for what happened down here. It just turned into a ghost town, seemingly overnight, and that was that.

I have seen an ’02/’03 New Year’s Eve listing for Ludlow’s somewhere, and that may very well have been the last show here for a year and a half, if it even happened at all. By January of ’03, the Dispatch is formally reporting that they are toast. Then in the spring of 2004, some bold press releases hit the newsstands, about how Ludlow’s and The Gate were reopening for summer, with a slew of national acts booked. But that all appears to have been concentrated from April to June, and the enterprise may well have gone belly-up again at that point. At any rate, Ludlow’s absolutely did not last into 2005.

But, you know, you really can’t get overly nostalgic for this stuff. It’s a shame the building sits empty at present – without question it would be better if Ludlow’s were here still, or just about anything else at all – yet at the same time, people never grew attached to this place the same way they did, say, Little Brother’s, or Stache’s, and definitely not Andyman’s Treehouse. So that’s the tradeoff, I guess, for not making your bread and butter with these scrappy little local bands, and their attendant smaller crowds. The loyalty’s just not there. At the first slight hiccup, you can be gone, and it’s as though nobody even notices. I mean, despite coming here countless times myself, I feel like I remember their distinctive circular black and white logo with a dog in the middle more than I do where the bathrooms or the bar were located inside, and that’s probably a telling point. Much like The Menus, though, this club was good while it lasted.

IV.

And now for a highly incomplete rundown of some shows they had here. If there’s one tiny sliver of a silver lining to a club being closed, though, I guess it’s that this represents a “closed circuit,” and I might reasonably someday have every event listed. Whereas when some place remains open, then I will probably never get caught up. So here’s what I’ve got thus far…

1997 –

October 6: Brad

October 23: moe. They played, in order, Seat of My Pants, St. Augustine, Bring You Down, It, 32 Things, Waiting for the Punchline, Plane Crash, Yodelittle, Moth, Four, Meat, Head, then an encore of Jimmy Cliff’s The Harder They Come followed by The Ramones’ I Wanna Be Sedated.

1998 –

July 10: moe. again. Brent Black, Moth, Hi & Lo, Plane Crash, Waiting for the Punchline, Salt Creek. Then a couple Grateful Dead cuts (Cryptical Envelopment, The Other One), followed by Sensory Deprivation Bank, Time Ed., Stranger Than Fiction, Recreational Chemistry, Buster. For the encore it’s Queen of the Rodeo, finally Blister In The Sun by Violent Femmes.

October 28: moe. yet again. Akimbo, Big World, Timmy Tucker, Brain Tuba, Happy Hour Hero, Queen of the Rodeo, 32 Things, Plane Crash, St. Augustine, Threw It All Away, Faker, Time Ed., Jazz Wank, Buster, finally freaking Free Bird by you know who.

1999 –

May 5: Semi-local boys O.A.R. are here. Get Away, Night Shift, About an Hour Ago, Conquering Fools, On Top The Cage, About Mr. Brown, The Wanderer, City On Down, Hey Girl, Here’s To You, Untitled, That Was A Crazy Game Of Poker (this is a popular song of theirs, yet despite the subject matter, I’ve never been a huge fan).

September 22: moe. for possibly the last time. at least that i’m aware of. moth, nebraska, captain america, spaz medicine, spine of a dog, rebubula, seat of my pants, rise, tambourine, plane crash, meat, backwoods, and then san ber’dino by the one and only frank zappa.

2001 –

October 11: Chrome

October 12: Reaganomics

October 13: Stop Drop & Roll

October 25: Chrome

October 26: Boogie Fever Ball with Shuckin Bubba Deluxe

October 27: Hoo Doo Soul Band

November 1: Snow Shoe Crabs

Posted on Leave a comment

Crazy Louie’s

6136 Busch Blvd Columbus Ohio

In the more than two decades since Crazy Louie’s went bust, a number of businesses have given this location (6136 Busch Blvd) a whirl. Spain Nightclub and a second Rush Creek outpost are among those that immediately pop to mind, on that prime, front corner location of what once was the burgeoning Continent shopping center. Spain Nightclub may have in fact lasted longer than Crazy Louie’s (that’s actually a picture of their exterior up top, though I’ve cropped out the sign). But in my estimation – and trust me, it’s painful to say this – nothing has quite enjoyed as much success in this spot as Crazy Louie’s, a popping though often quite maddening dance club that had a spirited 4 year run, from 1997 to 2001.

A restaurant called Montana Mining Co. even had free rent in its wake, yet only lasted from January to July of 2002, which tells you pretty much all you need to know about the Continent at that point. Still, it would be remiss to pin Crazy Louie’s going bust upon the decline of this former bustling French Market destination. Based upon what we saw first hand, as well as insider info dispensed by those who worked there, all signs seem to indicate that the owners ran a good thing into the ground themselves.

A 14 day suspension in August of 2000 for serving minors is the last piece of news I can find concerning Crazy Louie’s (itself on the heels of a 5 day penalty in July), although I know some of us continued going there into 2001, meaning they at least survived beyond that slap on the wrist. Why we would still patronize the place is a fair enough question, however, considering no other establishment ever gave us more trouble than this one. We did have plenty of pleasant experiences here, yes, which is the only explanation for continually giving it another chance. In fact my last ever visit, as far as I can recall, was in early 2001, I was dating Amber and this still felt like an exciting enough destination, one worthy of showing her. But one reason that suspension for serving minors seems so hilarious to me is that, years earlier, I and a few of the fellas were booted from this place because…I dared to drink Pepsi without proper credentials.

The facts of the case are such: I was totally just drinking Pepsi. This point was never in dispute. I only ever claimed to be drinking Pepsi, and the bouncer tossing us freely acknowledged that the beverage in question was nothing more than a Pepsi. The problem as he saw it, however, was that he did not care for the manner in which I was drinking the Pepsi. Therefore, we had to leave.

Well, that’s a mighty condensed and flippant take on the incident, sure, though the facts are all there. The incident in quesiton transpires on an otherwise chill night when a handful of us were kicking back at a table, high up on one of the elevated metal balconies. As the designated driver this evening, I had dispensed with the neon bracelet they strap onto the wrists of all 21 and over imbibers. Considering there are reams of 18 to 20 year olds within the building also hanging out sans bracelet, I never give the matter another thought. Then some bouncer arrives at our table and announces he’s escorting us to the door.

“I’m drinking a Pepsi!” I howl.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, “you have to wear a bracelet.”

“But there are all kinds of underage kids here without a bracelet,” I point out, and wave at the floor below us, “what difference does it make?”

“You still have to have a bracelet.”

“So let me get this straight: if you’re under 21, you can drink a Pepsi with no bracelet, but if you’re over 21, you can’t drink a Pepsi without a bracelet?”

“That’s right.”

So, yes, we are whisked downstairs and out the door. If I’m not mistaken he also enlisted some help for this mission. During which time, the other guys I’m with, Damon, Alan, and Paul, are making jokes about how they can give their bracelet to me, if that would help. And what makes this especially hilarious to me, I guess, beyond the surface absurdity, is that on another occasion, when we brought Cary and Virginia and some others here for their second visit, underage kids all, they actually flashed their IDs at the door like proper upstanding citizens, and the doorman – having apparently skipped his elementary math classes – gave them all wristbands anyway. Thus they were able to drink all night unfettered. Speaking of grade school, Paul has his own theory, as we’re hiking through the parking lot back to my car, about what just transpired in there with that bouncer.

“Somebody took his lunch money one time in the third grade,” he retorts, with this trademark deadpan ability to perfectly summarize a situation, “now he’s gotta prove what a badass he is.”

A couple of weeks later, another party of ours is tossed from here, this time as a result of the Scooby-Doo ballcap Paul dares to flagrantly display atop his dome. The doorman does not consider the Scooby-Doo ballcap a threat, thus gaining entry is not a problem. However, some other lunkhead bouncer, an altogether different beefcake buffoon than the last one to throw us out on our ears, cites some “gang paraphernalia” clause with what appears to be a straight face, referencing said Scooby-Doo ballcap. And so it’s a quick exit from Crazy Louie’s yet again.

“I’ve never been thrown out of a bar in my life!” Damon protests, “we’ve been tossed out of here twice in the first month? Something’s wrong with this picture!”

Whether or not each bouncer here indeed had his lunch money stolen in third grade, as Paul asserts, these clowns definitely have some large masses resting atop their shoulders. Are these muscles, or are they chips the size of boulders? ‘Roid rage could play a part, true, but one is left with the sinking suspicion that these guys are pissed off when a bunch of dudes show up with some nice looking girls…and they are also pissed off when a bunch of dudes show up with no girls whatsoever.

II.

I still recall our maiden voyage to Crazy Louie’s, from the fall of ’97. For this occasion it’s mostly a bunch of my coworkers, along with both roommates and a couple other random characters. Standing in line outside the incredibly happening night club, we advance in five minutes’ time to the indoors foyer, where the first of many musclebound bouncers checks our progress. Encased behind a glass kiosk he checks ID, one after another, though as expected Virginia hits a snag in trying to gain admission. Seized by a sudden jag of doubt she flashes him her proper New York ID, and while as luck would have it he too hails from the Empire State and they strike up a quick rapport, she pushes her luck trying to spring Danielle’s bogus driver’s license as an afterthought.

“Sorry,” he laughs, amused by her effort, “if you’d have had the guts to show me that first, I’d have let you get by.”

Instead he marks both hands with giant black magic marker Xs, while the rest of us, over the legal drinking age, receive neon colored wristbands as if gaining entrance to an exclusive country club. Of course Virginia and I already have plans for combating this unfavorable turn of events, but for now we’ve got to bide by this charade to make it past another pair of bouncers, guarding the double front doors to the club proper, their snarling faces dripping venom. Once past them, however, she dashes off to the ladies room to scrub away the Xs before they adhere, while I’m working the wristband off of my arm, where it grates against the flesh and bone structure but eventually comes off.

“Here, I don’t need this,” I tell Virginia, upon return, “you use it.”

“Jay…..are you sure?” she hesitates.

“Yeah,” I insist, “I’m not drinking.”

The club is stacked a mile high and just as deep with bodies, flailing around on a dance floor that basically never ends, because there is none, it snakes instead through every spare nook of space available. Aside from one small, pointless balcony at the far wall which accommodates exactly one table, there’s an elevated platform with a thatched room in the middle and four bars scattered throughout and that’s it, everything else is fair game for these gyrating bodies because the rest of the room is level.

Unique for a dance club the lighting here is mostly an ordinary white, of a sufficient wattage to allow visibility from one end to the other, and as such the balcony becomes a highly sought after vantage point for the horny male contingent. For everyone else, however, enough would be strippers climb atop the bar to showcase their talents, and a rotating track mounted on the ceiling boasts so many pairs of panties and bras that it’s obvious these Crazy Louie’s patrons have a long history of flinging off their clothes.

Alan and Leigh miraculously manage to secure an abandoned table, an oasis near the throbbing heart of traffic. Damon and I stand alongside the northernmost bar, weighing our options, with the remainder of our party in various configurations upon the dance floor. Frank and Lauren are dirty dancing over in a remote corner but a stone’s throw away from us, in the magnetic center of this utopian universe, Virginia sways to the beat with no less than five male bodies surrounding her, motionless themselves, drooling over her every move. John H and L, Mehlman and Mill Run and Sean, they’re trying to look as casual as possible standing there, a feat some manage more than others, but any way you slice it I see no reason to join them.

“Fuck that,” I tell Damon, “our best bet is to hang back.”

“I agree,” he says, as we join Alan and Leigh at their table.

We’ve no sooner sat there and the other three are ordering shots of 151 proof high octane rum, mother of god. In knocking his back Alan lets a few loose drips slip from his shot glass to the table, and after setting the empty slug aside he produces a lighter from his pocket, sets those wasted drops aflame. They smolder momentarily, an engrossing display that scars the table with black char marks when it’s finished.

Panting so hard his chest is about to cave in, John H appears at our table, announcing a change of scenery. “J Dog, Damon, we’re heading next door to the Yucatan,” he grins, not so much bored with all the fabulous treats this place has to offer as he is curious with what the other might hold in store, “you guys wanna come along?”

“Yeah, sure,” I tell him.

“Why not,” Damon says, half blasted already, “I wouldn’t mind checking it out.”

Alan and Leigh decline our proposal, preferring to sit where they are, and as we’re waiting for John to rustle up everyone else Damon and I bide our time by the exit, enjoying one last look. Mehlman’s standing there with us as well, looking either bored or pissed off, I can’t tell which.

“Heading over to the Yucatan with us?” I ask.

“Nah,” he says, citing his preference for country bars, “this isn’t really my kind of place.”

John L rides off into the night with him, too, but the rest of us slip outside, trudging across the spacious parking lot which owes its entire crowd to these twin towers of nightclubbing. The salad years for this once bustling French market are long gone, and apart from a popular restaurant named Houlihan’s, or this outdated movie theater, there’s little left. From here there is nothing else to do but move around the corner to the only remaining highlight, Yucatan Liquor Stand, and see what brand of mayhem they may have on tap.

III.

Damon, Jill, and I head out in my car, bound for Crazy Louie’s. Ryan is supposed to meet us there, with some other people, and along the way we stop to pick up Damon’s coworker Sara. She lives in the Wake Forest apartments on Red Robin, just around the corner from Tamarack. Looks to be in her mid 30s, and is somewhat attractive though also sort of plain. Brown straight hair, white shirt underneath jean overalls. We make a pit stop at an ATM for cash, and then continue onward to the Continent.

It’s only moderately packed when we show up, the hour still being a bit too early for most of this city’s clubgoers. This crappy cover band called Milkbone Eddie is playing out on the back patio – which is about the size of a postage stamp – and the four of us walk out here to have a seat and watch.

Oh, the band is okay, I suppose. But having electric drums doesn’t help, nor does the lack of a bass player. Their sound does seem to come across as a fairly full, I admit, for having only a singer, acoustic guitarist, and drummer. The songs they play are quality ones as well – American Pie, She Talks to Angels, etc. But they’re a tad too preppy, too cheesy and bland (though admittedly better than the Snow Shoe Crabs) for my tastes.

We move inside after a couple of beers and roughly one full set from the band. Grabbing a wall table by the back (northeast) bar, the four of us spend most of the night in this location, drinking and jabbering.

Ryan does indeed show up, standing around the central bar with a few of his friends. He introduces me to them, some people he’d gone to school with. Yet little do I know that sitting in between all of them, somehow, is a girl Damon had dated briefly back in our hometown. One of life’s weird coincidences. I sit back down at our table, and Damon fills me in – it’s a story I’ve heard before, but never actually seen the girl myself. Yet as Damon’s turning around to point over his shoulder at her, I see that Ryan is at this same moment talking to that same girl. He and all his friends have been. I start cracking up, but Damon’s never met Ryan before, he wouldn’t appreciate how bizarre this is even if I explained it to him. So I don’t bother. She’s a blonde with a tight body, but she turned out to be a prostitute, somehow.

Sometime after midnight but well before closing, we get bored and leave. Drop Sarah off.

IV.

So by the summer of 2001, this place was somehow toast, even though extremely happening still as of my last foray a handful of months prior. Go back even a year before then, however, and they were a big enough deal to even occasionally host random semi-major touring artists such as Montell Jordan, or All Saints before that. As of 1998, they were hosting hot bodies contests at least some of the time, on Thursday nights. According to one former employee I spoke to in the early 2000s, though, management just simply didn’t know what they were doing and were in over their heads trying to run a club that size. And this could be the case, it’s hard to say without more evidence.

Dance clubs are almost never long for this world, for whatever reason, and it could just be the half life for this particular experiment had simply arrived. Based upon my own experiences working in the service industry, and our first hand dealings with some of the morons who were employed at Crazy Louie’s, I think all of these concepts converge at a central point which helps explain its demise: opening a bar/restaurant is about one of the dumbest things you can possibly do, generally speaking, unless you truly are not the least bit sentimental about setting your money on fire; and yet, as anyone who has merely watched Bar Rescue or something similar can probably grasp in an instant, for some reason this industry attracts nimrods like no other business ever has, people who are convinced they would be great at running such a place (I think a lot of childish fantasies are in play about, like, hanging out and being chummy with everyone as you always have, possibly even at the same bar you used to frequent, possibly even continuing to drink here on the job, too, while nonetheless raking in a ton of dough and having the patrons look up to you like some kind of god); the bottom barrel bouncers and doormen also did this place no favors; on top of everything else, the Continent continued to decline, alongside this region as a whole; but yes, even in the best case scenario, last generation’s dance club is typically of no interest to the next, and by “generation” you might actually be talking about only five years.

All of this makes one wonder why anybody bothers opening a bar or restaurant business, a dance club most of all – but we are certainly thankful for those intrepid souls who give it a shot. Or at least the ones who treat us well and know what they are doing. There have definitely been a ton of great owners all over this city, many of which have kept their places afloat for decades. But those who had the keys to Crazy Louie’s would not be found among them. So let’s raise our lighters now to their brief, flickering ghost of a memory…and if you have any 151 on hand, maybe pour a little on the table, then set that puddle on fire as your last little tribute.