The Lion in Winter
To all my people out there for whom I was never privaledged to procure a brew for at the Stone Lion Tavern in Chattanooga, Tennessee, the time for doing so is quickly slipping away. For all my pals who I did buy a beer for and for those who I cadged a few from, you already know what I'm talking about.
The famed Stone Lion Tavern, which is, as far as this well-travelled southern gent is concerned, is my favorite pub in the world. The sad news is that after 16 crazy fucking years of last calls and punch-ups and hook-ups, the Stone Lion Tavern is closing its doors for good.
I was just a week or so out of a short stint in an Ensenada Mexico jail in 1988 (great story by the way that I'll consider re-telling one of these days) when I stumbled into the brand-spanking-new-and-not-yet-lived-in Stone Lion Tavern and ordered up my first beer from a tall, skinny dude named Mark Hopkins, aka Hoppy. Anyway, volumes could be written and probably should be concerning the level of top notch debauchery that took place or was formulated within its tiny confines by myself and a crazed gaggle of deviants, derelicts, druggards and drunks, not to mention the really fucked up people - the ones who think they are normal.
I love the damn place and I'll miss it and hope to return for the last party - ala the Last Party at Studio 54. I drank one of the first brews sold there so I might as well soak up one of the last. More to come on this I'm sure as the imminent "closing" continues to develop. One of my droogs on the ground is keeping me "in the know" as per any last minute updates. There is talk of a new bar but nothing will ever take the Lions place in many, many hearts. It, like all good things, was all about timing and the personalities involved. Hoppy originally intended the bar to have a "frat" flavor though it was not long, in fact just a few short seconds really, that the freaks got a smell of the place and its cheap beer and shanghai'ed its image and called its tiny confines their crows nest forever.
On another personal note:
Stacy and I are moving into finer digs. Stepping up we are! I've been painting the walls at our new place all day and we'll be completely moved in by the end of the week. We spent 2 years and 2 months here at our fine manse on Oglethorpe Ave and what a grand time it has been though circumstance forced our hand and fate landed us a fantastic new home - I look forward to hosting many friends at our new abode - for friends, the door is open.
Wow, a whole post with no goddamned politics!
Can't have that can we?
Hell no!
So here is a little something, a bumper sticker sent to me from a pal in Berzerkely California:
BUSH: THE ONLY DOPE WORTH SHOOTING
The famed Stone Lion Tavern, which is, as far as this well-travelled southern gent is concerned, is my favorite pub in the world. The sad news is that after 16 crazy fucking years of last calls and punch-ups and hook-ups, the Stone Lion Tavern is closing its doors for good.
I was just a week or so out of a short stint in an Ensenada Mexico jail in 1988 (great story by the way that I'll consider re-telling one of these days) when I stumbled into the brand-spanking-new-and-not-yet-lived-in Stone Lion Tavern and ordered up my first beer from a tall, skinny dude named Mark Hopkins, aka Hoppy. Anyway, volumes could be written and probably should be concerning the level of top notch debauchery that took place or was formulated within its tiny confines by myself and a crazed gaggle of deviants, derelicts, druggards and drunks, not to mention the really fucked up people - the ones who think they are normal.
I love the damn place and I'll miss it and hope to return for the last party - ala the Last Party at Studio 54. I drank one of the first brews sold there so I might as well soak up one of the last. More to come on this I'm sure as the imminent "closing" continues to develop. One of my droogs on the ground is keeping me "in the know" as per any last minute updates. There is talk of a new bar but nothing will ever take the Lions place in many, many hearts. It, like all good things, was all about timing and the personalities involved. Hoppy originally intended the bar to have a "frat" flavor though it was not long, in fact just a few short seconds really, that the freaks got a smell of the place and its cheap beer and shanghai'ed its image and called its tiny confines their crows nest forever.
On another personal note:
Stacy and I are moving into finer digs. Stepping up we are! I've been painting the walls at our new place all day and we'll be completely moved in by the end of the week. We spent 2 years and 2 months here at our fine manse on Oglethorpe Ave and what a grand time it has been though circumstance forced our hand and fate landed us a fantastic new home - I look forward to hosting many friends at our new abode - for friends, the door is open.
Wow, a whole post with no goddamned politics!
Can't have that can we?
Hell no!
So here is a little something, a bumper sticker sent to me from a pal in Berzerkely California:
BUSH: THE ONLY DOPE WORTH SHOOTING
posted by Unknown at 10/24/2004 01:45:00 AM
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