Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part XVIII: Party animals on the loose

Feb. 21, 1986

Adventures of the Third Lost Expedition, Part XVIII:

Party animals on the loose.

CAPTAIN’S LOG, BAR DATE XL: Little did he realize it at the time, but the Captain should have activated the blarney detector when he signaled ahead to a place called the Blarney Castle at 1856 South Park Ave. Sure, the kitchen’s always open, the hearty, husky voice boomed through the communicator.

        The Captain was grateful for this assurance, since there seemed to be little prospect for provisions elsewhere, except perhaps in some stand-up sub shop, on this Saturday night march through a succession of South Buffalo party bars.

        Imagine the chagrin, then, as the hungry crew members of the Third Lost Expedition discovered that the Blarney Castle’s always-open kitchen was taking the night off at the start of this latest installment of their quest to quaff a drink in every licensed establishment along fabled federal Route 62 from Niagara Falls to El Paso, Texas. Or as close to El Paso as they could get.

        “There’s no cook tonight,” reported a mild-mannered fellow named Bob filling in behind the bar for the owner, who was off ice-fishing. Evidence of what a cook might do was posted on the wall behind the bar – sandwiches and even a $4 Friday fish fry. The trekkers grumbled into their 50-cent drafts of Genesee, Old Vienna and Stroh’s, ordered bags of beer nuts and envied foresighted folks like the Chief Science Officer who, sensing a snafu, stopped up the street at the Red Brick Inn for a preliminary round of chicken wings.

        They found no comfort in the other amenities of the place – the bowling machine, the trivia video game, the computerized jukebox, the darkened dining room in the rear. Sports trophies and a generous collection of snapshots were on display, while the place of honor in the middle of the back bar was reserved for a color photo of the pub’s castle namesake in Ireland.

        Nor was this the only Irish aspect of the décor. A native of the South Buffalo galaxy, the Poignant Flashback, pointed out that the wood beam and stucco motif harkened back to the traditional whitewashed mud cottages of the Hibernian homeland.

        Still famished, for the most part, the safari swung to the northernmost point on their itinerary, a party bar of long standing at 1791 South Park near the triangular intersection with Southside Parkway. Newly sold and, the Captain had been told, renamed Rogo’s, it still sported signs identifying it by its old moniker, Argy’s.

        At this relatively early evening hour, it had the air of that morning’s cleaning solution, though the youngish crowd was doing its best to exchange it for cigarette smoke. Serious gamesters they were, both on the dart board and at the pool table, and challenging them seemed out of the question for everyone except the Chief Science Officer. After waiting half an hour for his turn, however, he wound up sinking the eight-ball on his breaking shot.

        Better luck was to be had on the video games, especially Sex Trivia, where the Poignant Flashback excelled, registering her name second among the all-time winners.

        There was nothing in the way of food, however, aside from $1 chili. The 10-cent chicken wing special must have been swept out with the former ownership. The old menu signs listed last year’s softball schedule. The barmaid was leisurely, to say the least, as she drew 50-cent drafts of Schmidt’s and Genesee.

        It was but a short trudge to Sterlace’s at 1805 South Park, which was called Pittston Junction the last time this area had been charted. Here the crowd was older and so were the selections on the jukebox, which worked out just right for dancing. The ten members of the expedition joined in the festivities and generally filled the place out, to the point where one middle-aged couple peeked in the door, pronounced it “too crowded” and left.

        Instead of stucco, this place had brick. A string of pinlights hung above the bar. Hockey played soundlessly on the TV set. A sign behind the bar promised a free drink when Andreychuk scored on TV, which might have made for quite a party the night he bagged five goals. Hosting was the owner, Sue McLaughlin, serving up $1 bottles of Old Vienna and Genny Cream Ale. Aside from chips and nuts, there was no food here either.

        Ms. McLaughlin, out of curiosity, asked where this group of strangers was from. The Captain and the Chief Science Officer gave each other a cautious glance and decided to tell her.

        “Lost Expedition?” she said. “Never heard of it.”

        Next the troupe transported several coordinates to the south to Black Dog’s Tavern at 2015 South Park, familiar to the First Mate as a stop on the summer volleyball circuit. An old establishment with a tin ceiling, it seemed still to be undergoing the remodeling that had begun four or five years ago.

        Here was a young clientele much like the one at Argy’s, engaged in billiards and foosball. The sound system played an FM rock station. Early scouting reports had noted the presence of a buffet in aluminum take-out containers. Some of it still remained, mostly fried chicken and baked beans.

        The hungry crew fell upon them like jackals. Demanding more paper plates, they got them and virtually wiped out the victuals. Eventually, they got to the bar, where they discovered 50-cent Genesee drafts and $1 bottles of Molson’s Golden.

        It was a short hop across the street to Felong’s at 2050 South Park, a three-room, tin-ceilinged tavern with tables in a side room and a pool table and video games in the back. MTV provided the music. Scouts found more food in the side room – a couple of cold and apparently neglected pizzas – but were chased away by young patrons who asserted that they were for a private party.

        Had the kitchen been operational, the trekkers could have indulged themselves on 70-cent cheeseburgers. Prices over the bar also were unbelievable bargains. A glass of Genesee draft was a mere 35 cents, a pitcher $2.75.

        The finale was Talty’s, another venerable South Buffalo institution a couple doors down at 2056 South Park. Irish cottage décor prevailed here also. The Talty family has been keeping taverns in this town for upwards to 100 years, the Poignant Flashback noted.

        Here was a place filled with leisurely pursuits – pool, darts, video games, a full-length shuffleboard – and plenty of young adults to pursue them. Posters proposed a night at Buffalo Raceway. Other signs advertised the 4 to 7 p.m. happy hours weekdays, when 75-cent vodka drinks are the rule. The troupe, refreshments in hand, met the leisure-time challenge head-on. When Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” came up on the jukebox, they gave the place the one thing it lacked for a fully festive Saturday night – an impromptu chorus line.