Adventures of the Second Lost Expedition, Part II: Trophies and pool tables.

The Second Lost Expedition, Part II:

Trophies and Pool Tables

Dec. 16, 1983

CAPTAIN’S LOG: BAR DATE XVIII: It wasn’t exactly a case of throwing caution to the winds, but the Second Lost Expedition adopted a far freer frame of mind as it gathered at its suburban launching pad for the second shuttle to Oliver Street in North Tonawanda.

        What prompted this lowering of the guard was the absence of interceptor patrols a month ago on the way home from the first installment of this new quest – to drink in every bar on that Lumber City thoroughfare hallowed in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most taverns per mile. Nevertheless, it could have been dumb luck. Drivers were advised to taper off before taking off.

        Though this is the Christmas season, there was a dearth of holiday decorations at the safari’s first stop, The Bowery Café at 348 Oliver. A few red ribbons over the full-length mirror behind the dance floor in the middle room, that was it. More prominent were the sports trophies along the walls up front in the bar area – this is the home of the 1982 Over 30 Slow Pitch Softball champs – and the pool table in the back room.

        Arriving before prime time, the crew found only a few regulars on hand, watching hockey on the small projection TV screen and listening to Rock 102 over the sound system. The following evening would be Beatles night. The wine tasters pronounced the house wine delightful, enhanced by its slight fizz. The Captain came back from the men’s room wondering how employees obey the hand-washing sign, since there were no handles on the sink faucets.

        A pair of late arrivals had looked first into the second stop, The Clover Club at 367 Oliver, and warned of rough customers at the pool table. When the full crew walked in, however, they were gone. Only a few elderly regulars held down the bar, where an equally senior bartender poured the drinks.

        Here were Christmas trimmings in abundance – prominent Season’s Greetings from Mary and Pat, plus festoons of tinsel everywhere, even on top of the Genesee Beer bottle cap wall plaques. Glass bricks formed the base of the bar and separated the back room as well.

        Hungry expeditioners, finding little in the way of food at The Clover Club, backtracked across the Robinson Street intersection to Big Daddy’s, where they acquired chicken wings to take out. The barman was quick to provide a pile of napkins.

        Someone found a Neil Young song on the jukebox while the Billiards Technician and the Chief Science Officer embarked on an extended test of the pool table, interrupted only when the balls jammed. “It always sticks when it gets crowded in here,” the barman admonished as he fixed it.

        From the first step into Mackey’s Third Base at 416 Oliver, it was evident that this would be one of the liveliest stops of the evening. The crowd was young adult and stylish. So was the music – Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House,” emanating from an ornate old moviehoouse ticket booth near the front window.

        Covering the walls was one of the most extensive collections of beer and wine promotional mirrors the Captain had ever seen. For Christmas, wreaths were hung and lights were strung over the bar and around the windows.

        Banners also were posted for Mackey’s 12th anniversary party this week, promising rock oldies, 75-cent vodka drinks, cheap chicken wings “and the friendliest bartenders.” In the rear, the crew found more friendly artifacts – sports trophies, a couple video games and, of course, another pool table.

        By contrast, tranquility reigned across the tracks at 448 Oliver in the Railside Lounge. A Christmas tree shone with lights at one end of the bar. Tinsel surrounded one of the front windows. A very old place, it boasted very new restrooms, the nicest encountered so far on Oliver Street. Adding to the coziness was a portable kerosene heater.

        Again action centered around the pool table. The bartender, in his second night on the job, had to pull his boss away from his friends on the customers’ side of the bar to find where some of the liquors were. “We’re only open Thursday, Friday and Saturday,” the barman explained. “Those are the only nights the owner’s in.”

        Right next door to the Railside, at 450 Oliver, stood a bar without an identifying sign over the entrance. According to the license in the window, this was Judy’s Tavern. “Women,” whispered a lonely contingent of males there as the ladies of the expedition led the crew through the door.

        Nevertheless, women were not a rarity there. Offering bottles of Labatts Blue for $1 was a particularly friendly mature barmaid. For another dollar, one might pick up a shaker of dice and take 10 rolls to try to win a watch or a doll.

        The place was decked liberally for Christmas. Country music wailed on the jukebox. The Chief Science Officer challenged a tall, willowy brunette at the pool table and other trekkers attempted to ascertain the peculiarities of the shuffleboard bowling machine, where one pin refused to go up and another refused to come down. Meanwhile, another contingent ventured to Mitch’s Del Taco at 474 Oliver, bringing back burritos and nacho chips.

        It was only 1:30 a.m. when the urge for going struck. The next stop, Town Bowling Lanes, was closed. As the safari set off on separate routes home, that advice of tapering off turned out to be well taken. One expeditioner on Delaware Avenue encountered no less than three police cruisers.