Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part XX: Rediscovering suburbia

Once again a chapter was missing in the Chief Science Officer’s otherwise splendid collection of yellowing Gusto magazines from the 1980s. And once again the Captain ventured back to what’s left of the library at The Buffalo News to probe the ancient metal filing cabinets filled with microfilm. This time he also brought back a photo. 

April 11, 1986

Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part XX: 

Rediscovering suburbia.

CAPTAIN’S LOG, BAR DATE XLII: Try as he might, the Captain couldn’t nail down the coordinates for the next designated staging area.

        “What’s it near?” crew members would ask when they heard that the Third Lost Expedition would rally at a place in Lackawanna called Bella Pizza at 3140 South Park Ave., from there to continue their mission to lift a drink in every licensed drinking establishment on fabled federal Route 62 from Niagara Falls to El Paso, Texas. Or as close to El Paso as they could get.

        The problem was, Bella Pizza wasn’t near anything. The only landmark the Captain could summon up from his memory banks was Father Baker’s basilica. Find that and go about six blocks south, he instructed. You can’t miss it.

        Following that flight plan, it became clear why this location was so hard to pinpoint. Six blocks south of Father Baker’s, the landscape became a panorama of déjà vu – brightly-lit convenience stores and chain pharmacies. It could have been anywhere. It had to be the suburbs.

        The déjà vu got even thicker inside Bella Pizza. On one side was the order counter and the kitchen, which was doing a lively delivery trade this particular Friday evening. On the other side was a sit-down area. Done up in stucco and wood, with yellow Formica tables and a couple of video games, it was populated by a clan of teens in high school jackets. Out front a sign read: “Adult Help Wanted.”

        Choices at the counter came down to chicken wings, submarine sandwiches and, of course, pizza. Reinforcing the choice of pizza was a prominently posted article touting Buffalo pizza as the least expensive in the nation. Prices on Bella’s pizza, unfortunately, were somewhat above the local average – $4.05 small, $5.25 large – and the precisely-weighed portions of cheese on top proved no match for the generous spread of sauce.

        There was but one alternative when it came to adult refreshments – Stroh’s on tap at 65 cents a glass, $3.25 a pitcher. Ordering it brought about one of those crises that prompted the help-wanted sign. The keg had to be replaced and it couldn’t be done until one of the delivery drivers returned.

        The continual arrival of crew members – 17 showed up, in all – further aggravated the help-wanted situation and had a deleterious effect on the life forms in the sit-down area as well. The teens retreated to a table nearest one of the video games and clustered there sullenly, waiting to reclaim their turf.

        The large expeditionary force had a similar impact across the street at Swifty’s Pub, 3167 South Park, which was known as P.J.’s Lamp Post when the scouting party had charted this region.

        Freshly-painted inside, Swifty’s also boasted a brand-new pool table smack in the center of the bar room. The Billiards Technician and the Chief Science Officer quickly put it to the test. The table was terrific, but the area reserved for it was a trifle tight.

        Pouring drinks behind the bar was a young fellow assisted by a red-haired slip of a woman who pursued all her activities – even her trips to the basement for extra glasses – with a baby slung on her hip. Though the Sabres were playing on TV, visual interest centered on a large fish tank above the bar, where a number of sizable specimens swam about, gobbling up goldfish. A few minutes of this and the female trekkers began lobbying heavily for a flight to the next outpost.

        They retreated north to investigate a place they’d skipped, the Sunset Saloon at 3036 South Park. It proved to be a much more commodious game room. Here again were darts and pool and video games and space aplenty to stretch out and play them. An FM station played the Temptations.

        Behind the long bar was a long-haired woman named Tricia Hoffman, who relinquished her post to the owner, Angie Giles, and came forward to team with one of the regulars in a pool game of epic length. Between shots, they joined with the trekkers in Motown choreography to the music. In the end, Tricia wielded the deciding cue.

        Shuttling southward again, the safari pulled in at May and Gene’s, 3292 South Park, and found still another rec room, or what looked like one, what with all the knotty pine paneling and the hand-painted baseball banners and football helmets adorning the wall above it. Behind the bar was a short, motherly woman pouring 50-cent Genesee drafts.

        There were billiards here, too, along with a bowling machine and a jukebox full of loudly-thumping hits. The Chief Science Officer, having greeted two strangers in green Happy Birthday sweatshirts at the bar, discovered he actually did have an acquaintance here, a fellow by the name of Travis Rupert whose mother-in-law tended bar here and lived upstairs.

        “It’s not so great,” she said, nodding toward the jukebox. “You get tired of the noise all the time.”

        More invigorating were the jukebox selections across the street at the Farmer’s Inn, 3305 South Park. They were almost all country tunes and a good number of them were oldies. Couples danced in front of this jukebox and Jimmie Rodgers’ ‘50s hit, “Uh-Oh, I’m Fallin’ in Love Again,” provided an enthusiastic sing-along on the choruses.

        “You Must Be 25 and Able to Prove It,” warned the sign at the door, but nobody inside had a problem meeting the age limit. Some of them could have doubled it. They were a genial lot, scattered along the long, smoke-filled bar, and their bartender was an off-duty Lackawanna policeman.

        Equally vintage was the bowling machine, which operated with balls, not pucks, and which required only 10 cents per play. The trekkers couldn’t resist. Next time they needed a landmark in suburban Lackawanna, they’d know exactly where to look.