Victorian’s Midnight Cafe was a former…well, I don’t even know what you’d call it, but it sure was something. A cafe, yes, I suppose, and definitely located in Victorian’s Village. And though I was certainly there past midnight on occasion, those times were rare – and yet I still might have classified it, for a few years there, as the most interesting place to visit in all of Columbus. Cafe at some point morphed into this meaningless all-purpose term applied to just about any spot, equally at home on the floor of a dance club as to a quaint diner two seat table that is only open for brunch. And Victorian’s encompassed nearly every plot point between these extremes as well as anywhere ever did.
It wasn’t just the mismatched furniture and similarly inclined artwork, the weatherbeaten floors. Or the patrons you could also often apply some of those modifiers to. It was a certain vibe you couldn’t get anywhere else – in large part because even those running this enterprise kept the borders fuzzy, as far as what Victorian’s was even supposed to be. But then again, they weren’t afraid to draw the line at what they absolutely were NOT: owner Greg Rowe usually told people who were hoping to bring CDs in here and have it cranked over the system to politely forget it, even when other bars would often play ball with such a concept. Or back when, though it’s hard to really fathom this now, you could pretty much smoke cigarettes everywhere (places really only started going smoke free en masse somewhere in the mid aughts, a concept that probably seems as alien to youngsters now as this mysterious “compact disc” music playing medium I just mentioned), Victorian’s was a notable outlier in that it was always forbidden here. They do have at least one pool table here, covering yet another base in that regard.
I once brought my brother in for breakfast, and he is still known to gush about it, specifically the corned beef hash, twenty years later. Connie Harris and Za Hansen are among the cooks who pass through here, during its spirited run under Rowe, and the signature morning offering might actually be a heaping casserole named Mr. Gut Wrencher: eggs, gravy, home fries, cheese, three kinds of meat in one large dish. “That scared the hell out of me the first time I read the ingredients,” Hansen admits, in a May 2008 Dispatch piece, “first I thought, why?, and then I wondered, do we even have a plate big enough for this thing?“
Well before that, in fact before I’d ever set foot inside the place, a coworker once secured some of us a slot to play at their open stage jam night, though I chickened out and failed to show – though assuredly no great loss for anyone involved, whether performer or attendee, I still sometimes regret not following through. Because of course they had live music here, too. This place was a local institution for such, with for example the various members of Cowboy Hillbilly Hippy Folk meeting one another here, after which Victorian’s was only the most natural choice for their CD release party. The Moops played their first show here in 2001. Of course, unlike many “open stage” jam nights I’ve attended over the years, the Victorian’s take on this meant that during the Thursday night edition, poetry readings were totally okay, too, if that’s how one chose to fill his/her slot – Wednesays are reserved for acoustic music alone.
So once again totally fitting the Midnight Cafe aesthetic. But yeah, I would say music mostly prevailed anyway, on balance. When I introduced Damon to Victorian’s, to catch some other random band on an equally random night, he was instantly a fan and remarked that a place like this could only exist in Columbus. As those in charge of the operation are quite aware, considering the top of their website home page describes this cafe, in a dictionary style definition entry, as “an eclectic home for people wanted or unwanted. Loyal patrons refer to her as the “hub of weirdness” where all walks of life come and go. A refreshing gateway from reality, a place to find a warm smile and friendship.” Yep, that pretty much sums it up.
Incidentally, their website offers yet another punctuation plot twist that I didn’t expect. Working on this Love Letter To Columbus project has, however improbably and unwittingly, often thrust me into the role of an apostrophe detective (there’s two words you never thought you’d see together). And so I am presented with another case here. In every single article I referenced online (47 of them) and in my own writings, thoughts, whatever, the name is never spelled as anything but Victorian’s Midnight Cafe. I never even entertained a notion that it could be anything else. However, much like other defunct operations such as Brewmasters Gate and Tommy Keegans, the conflicting truth is hiding in plain sight – either that, or we have to assume that we know what the founders of these operations truly intended, and they just weren’t polished up on their grammar. Because according to the logo at the top of the VMC website, which runs unchanged for years, it’s actually spelled with an apostrophe after the S: Victorians’ Midnight Cafe. Although in this instance these waters are certainly further muddied when you consider the abbreviation, the logo inside the logo, which calls this place Vic’s. And then the “dictionary definition” beside it as spells this as Victorian’s. These three variations are, what, an inch or even less apart. So I’m really not sure what to think. But crafting a logo you would think has to take more time than typing words on a web page – even back in 2004 – so it would seem more thought had to have gone into that as well, and the logo therefore carries more weight.
I guess maybe in the name of keeping a clear conscience, I should refuse to take on this truly baffling case.
II.
Sometimes Vic’s was even open on Thanksgiving, serving a customarily funky meal that had nothing to do with your traditional Turkey Day offerings – and sounding no less inviting because of it. Circa 2006 meanwhile, on most totally normal nights of the week, there was this cute redheaded waitress, her belly swollen and many months along with child, working here, that us guys all agreed was “the hottest pregnant chick ever.” And the reason I’m coming here so often then stems from my greatest stretch of involvement with Victorian’s, strollling through these extremely funky doors roughly once per week, as a central figure in this writer’s club we’d started.
Nathan McKnight (a pen name, BTW), his friend Shannon, our mutual pal Dan Bandman, and I are the four who materialize here for its first ever meeting, in January 2006. Bandman is the one who told me about it, and as I’d been trying in vain the entire time I lived in Columbus – nearly a decade at this point – to catch on with a decent writer’s club, I’m instantly all about it. I guess it somehow never occurred to me to just start one myself. In a hilarious stroke of just about the most predictable cliche ever, three of us bring our copy of The Elements Of Style to this first meeting – and the fourth person almost did, but decided to leave it at home.
Nathan was here every single week, though, and deserves credit for organizing the thing, keeping it together for a solid year (possibly more, as I moved away at end of 2006, and have no idea what happened beyond that point). I made it a good 90% of the time, I would estimate, easily the second most involved. Nathan’s dad, Joe, would eventually become a predictable attendee, and while both Dan and Shannon were only intermittently engaged, moving forward, other highly random figures like Rob, Alison, and Brad would pop in on occasion, in descending order of frequency, culled from whatever rock we could find them under. One or two of them might not even have really been writers, or at least weren’t writing much, but liked to soak up the atmosphere and debate things anyway, possibly take a stab at editing a copy of whatever you brought.
Some of these conversations stick with me to this day. Like a passionate extended group argument one night, in that window seating area section, concerning the use of the word habit, which someone was claiming didn’t fit in such and such scenario. We had just about settled the debate, agreeing that it was basically applicable in situations where a person couldn’t stop doing something often. Until some guy piped up and wondered, “yeah, but would you say robbing banks is a habit?” Which set the argument ablaze all over again. Another time, I brought a then short story where the main character killed himself at the very end. A plot twist which Shannon was quite vocal about not liking.
“I just don’t remember ever reading a story where the main character killed himself at the end, though,” I pointed out.
“There’s a reason you’ve never read a story like that – it pisses people off!”
Well, I ended up using this scene anyway, eventually, in one of my novels. So who knows. These philosophical dustups were always highly entertaining, at least, even if you didn’t take the advice. And some of this stuff was demonstrably helpful. Another occasion, Dan brought a ton of song lyrics to the table, and was lamenting that he kept trying to squeeze in more adjectives, but they never seemed to rhythmically fit into the songs. I suggested in response that instead of adjective cramming, which a lot of people try to do in whatever they’re writing, it’s usually better to come up with stronger verbs instead, like replacing the words go and went et cetera whenever you see them. Nathan’s mouth was open, because he was just about to say the exact same thing, but I beat him to the punch. So he agreed with me, as we elaborated on this point. Then the next week, Dan proudly brought his revised songs to the meeting, and was effusive in praising us, because he felt like that one tip had made a huge improvement on his lyric writing.
I would eventually conclude that although these meetings were a lot of fun, and gave me something to look forward to every week, they were ultimately not that productive for me. And the reason for this was that I felt I’d advanced beyond everyone else on the seriousness front. It might sound a bit pompous to declare, but I wasn’t thinking this from a quality or talent standpoint, because most of them were great writers. They just weren’t doing much, which was the whole issue. Whereas I couldn’t seem to stop, even back then, and was cranking out reams of material, writing something just about every day. I had an endless stockpile of material I could and sometimes did bring for them to dissect, passing copies out to everyone who attended. But then would feel like I was hogging the spotlight, so might skip a week, except then there would be times where nobody brought anything as a result.
Plus, as previously alluded to, would typically not apply any of their notes anyway. I could get into debating philosophies and word usage and so on until the end of time, though in general believed that as a rule you couldn’t really carpet bomb any of these strategies onto every piece of writing, or anything near it, because every piece was different and we all had such diverse styles on top of it. Like I recall that after some of us attended this Kurt Vonnegut speaking appearance, where he was ranting and raving about semi-colons, Nathan showed up at the next meeting and proudly announced that he’d gotten rid of 63 semi-colons in something he was writing. And I was thinking, well, that’s cool, but that’s just never going to be me. Vonnegut might have felt they should be eradicated from the face of the planet, and Nathan might have agreed, but I thought and continued to feel that they are occasionally quite useful.
My fondest memory probably concerns a session where I brought this thinly-veiled “fictional” piece about the Mansfield area music scene, which had Bandman howling with laughter at various points. He loved it so much he was praising it later to people who didn’t even come to these things, like for instance Travis Tyo’s girlfriend Martha. She came up to me somewhere, weeks later I believe it was, and told me that whatever I had written, Bandman thought it was hysterical.
The picture up top, meanwhile, stems from a mix CD Nathan once brought to everyone in attendance. He did this at least twice, because I have another one titled Jug O’ Tunes that I liked so much I made copies of it myself to pass around. Songs For Victiorians as you can see is pretty solid, too, and a number of those tracks have entered my permanent playlist as a result. And on exactly one instance, I cranked out a mix of my own, which I titled J-Mac’s Spring Mix 2000 and 6. Those discs I foisted on this club to start with, though eventually expanding outward and handing them off to the likes of Kevin Spain or my brother, people who had never come to any of these meetings.
Nathan had some experience organizing these things, and in fact a previous club was so organized and serious that they were printing impressively professional looking zines for a while. He brought me a couple-few issues at some point, though I only seem to have one in my possession now. He’s also one of these guys who seems to know everybody in town, to the extent I wasn’t exactly surprised to eventually discover he was working with Damon’s sister, Melissa, at one of her jobs, a short while after I left town and this writing club had ended. When I asked her if she knew Nathan McKnight, she chuckled and said, “well, he might wish his name was Nathan McKnight…but yeah, I know him.”
It was only then that I even learned this was a pen name! You might say I’m bad at asking people questions about themselves. Well, actually, I feel like I’m good at observing some stuff, noting various details about people, and learning a bit of their history – it’s just the material I get down isn’t necessarily important. A kink which this Victorian’s writing club never did straighten out.
III.
I still possess some of the pieces that others brought to this group, but haven’t had much luck getting their blessing to post them here. So the above snippet from one of my short stories will have to suffice, to give you an idea of the work we did here.
The final occasions I came to Victorian’s all occurred in 2008, the absolute last of these a bar-hopping odyssey marking my return to Columbus, during which we wound up here for a spell. That night was also, to date, sadly the last time too that I’ve hung out with such disparate characters as Alan Kline, Ancie and Dan Schmidt, Kevin Spain and others, all of which were among this Victorian’s entourage that night. Though it seems most surreal of all to recall this was the site of my first conversation in 19 years with on old friend who’d moved away, Byron McClurg, because he had called someone, and a few of us were passing around the phone on the back patio here.
From here the picture becomes a little murkier. In March ’09 it’s announced that local musician Andreas Kleinert has bought the place, along with his wife, Kristy Venrick, and that they are renaming it Vic’s Cafe. It is closed a short spell for remodeling, although they maintain many of the same employees, even some menu standouts like weinerschnitzel or the Behemoth Burger. A continued or perhaps slightly elevated devotion to live music, six nights a week, including open stage jams on three of those. Yet they are also switching gears, somewhat, like with a curious focus on a lengthy pina colada list (or is this not playing right into the site’s scattershot, eclectic vibe?) including one that’s served in a coconut shell.
And yet by July, it would appear they’ve reverted back to the former name, Victorian’s Midnight Cafe, though closing right at midnight on every night not named Friday or Saturday. Even so the last event listing I can find occurs in March 2010, a fundraiser in support of and featuring local musician Billy Zenn. Shortly thereafter, those owners sold it to the next, and whoever bought this now not only changed the name but the entire aesthetic as well. One night in 2011, Kyle, Erin, and I drifted through the new establishment, which was like this voodoo rockabilly place called The Shrunken Head. And while cool enough for that sort of thing, it was also just not the same, and none of us ever came back. Nowadays this spot, at 251 W. 5th Avenue, is known as the Vic Village Tavern. This one’s rocking some old school vibe, and I’m sure it has its adherents, but it also looks even more normal and therefore farther removed still from what once made this spot on the map so special.
I said their website was hilariously generic, even by the standards of that time, and this is true. A plain white background, no photos whatsoever, text even more basic than my somewhat vanilla choices here in the year 2025. If visiting that page, you would have no idea what a wacky establishment you were in store for, should you follow up with a physical visit. However one cool feature they did have, which I haven’t quite seen replicated anywhere else, is that they also made a running list of every musician they could think of who graced their stage. So here’s the roll call up through 2006:
Amy Steinberg
Andy Germak
Andy Shaw
Annie Schumm
Apocalypso
Ariel Godwin
Athena Reich
Avalon Nine
Barrie Z.
Beau Bristow
Bel Auburn
Bill Kurzenberger
BlueForms Theatre Group
Blue Level Music
Brad Yoder
Brian Griffin
Brian Lisik
Bryan Christopher Lee
Bumwealthy
Cathy Wicks
Chad Eric
Chief Johnny Lonesome
Chris Gough
Chris McCoy
Cropchecker
Dan Gonzalez
Dan Vaillancourt
Dave Golden
Dave Lippman
David Nefesh
Deep Blue Groove
eight foot cactus
Elisa Nicholas
EN2
Ennui
Eric Nassau & Friends
Eric Pressler
Frisky London
Garrin Benfield
Gipson & Fitz
Greg Klyman
Gruver/Gruver Deeluxe
Hal Hixson
Happy Dragons
heather shayne blakeslee
Heather Waugh
Hipswitch
Jared Mahone
Jason & the Argonauts
Jeffrey Altergott
Jesse Henry
Jen Miller
Jen Shamro
Jeremiah Birnbaum
Jim Volk
Jim Zartman
John Turck
Jonah Sage
Jonathan Rundman
Kara Kulpa
Kit Malone
Kristy Hanson
kristi strauss and the blue medusa
La Revancha
Larry Mariotto
Leah-Carla Gordone
Liz Malys
Maioan Person
Mark Fitzharris
Mark Webster
Megan Palmer
Michael Joseph
Michael Shoup
Mike Mangione
Modern Gomorah
Myke Rock
Nathaniel Seer
Nic Engel
Nobody et al.
Nude
Porterhouse
Pretty Balanced
rachel ries
Rachanee
Richard Thorne
Ripley Caine
Sarah Asher
Sarah Cohen
Sarah Lovell
Scott Stein
Shelley Miller
SJ Tucker
Sonya Lorelle
Stickmen Music
Summertooth
The Bogtrodders
The Farewell System
The Floorwalkers
The Kyle Sowashes
the moist star
The Peasants
the red wheelbarrow
The Sure Things
The Vague
Thora’s Birch
Tom Freund
Tristen Shields
Ukulele Man
Way Past Frown (Thomas Boles)
Willie Phoenix
Worldwide Ocean
Yikes McGee
Victorian’s also had a little artwork gallery, dubbed the Hub Gallery, where they would rotate in various featured artists. So they have listed just a pair of artists, John Nagy and Tom VanKuiken, who it says “have visited Vic’s Hub Gallery.” Although I’m not sure if that means these are the only two artists who stopped by to view their own gallery (which seems more likely), or if those are the only two artists who ever swung through, period.
2006 events
Beyond the punctuation shenanigans, their hilariously simple website was also a little confusing for another reason. The events calendar would list things that were happening all over town, not just here, yet to my mind it’s not always entirely clear which is which. So I think these things I’m listing below all happened at Vic’s…but I could be wrong about that:
January 18
open mic night, hosted by Crazy Pete Frenzer. This is a regular Wed and Thu night thing and it runs from 8 to 11.
January 19
The Thursday edition of open mic night, hosted by Crazy Pete Frenzer.
January 20
themed musical night under the banner “Folk The War – A Bush Bashing.” UkuleleMan, Pete Cassani, and Bob Starker play.
January 22
movie time with Tadit Anderson, whatever that entails
January 25
open mic night with Crazy Pete
January 26
open mic night with Crazy Pete
January 28
Mike Mangione plays at 8pm, followed the The Two Timers at 10.
January 31
Something called “the people’s address to the State of the Union.” Megan Palmer, UkuleleMan, Connie Harris, and Victoria Parks all appear in some capacity. Ohio Peace Network are listed as the primary speakers.
February 4
Connie Harris headlines some “Come Together For Peace” event from 8pm until midnight
February 5
Amy Steinburg plays from 8 to 10
February 6
It’s the first Monday of the month, which means it’s time for the latest Columbus Area Filmmakers’ Group to meet. It begins at 7pm.
February 11
The Yogi Poets perform at 8pm, followed by Moonlight Child at 10
February 25
Mardi Gras Costume Ball. Chief Johnny Lonesome plays and the special drink of the night is the Hurricane
March 3
Brad Yoder plays from 8 to 10pm. Chris Gough then takes the stage at 10.
March 4
reserved for a private party
March 17
Folk The War
March 18
Central Ohio Peace Network
March 24
SJ Tucker plays at 8pm
March 31
Thomas Birch plays at 10pm
May 1
latest meeting of Columbus Area Filmmakers’ Group
May 3
Open mic – no host listed, so it may or may not be Crazy Pete by this point
May 4
Open mic – see above
May 10
Open mic
May 11
open mic
June 9
Liz Malys & Nic Engel perform, 8pm
June 17
SJ Tucker plays, 8pm
July 12
open mic
July 13
open mic
July 19
open mic
July 20
open mic
July 21
Heartbreak Ochestra play at 8pm
August 12
Heartbreak Orchestra with special guest Neal from Go Robot, Go!
