Evolution, Revolution and Good Old Fashioned American Fun

On Santa Monica Blvd., toward the end of old Route 66 there stands an establishment that opened in 1920 called Barney’s Beanery. For ninety years they’ve served some of the second best chili in Los Angeles. Since it’s humble beginnings in a bungalow at the edge of a Poinsettia field Barney’s has outlasted the golden age of Hollywood, the revolutionary changes of the sixties and seventies and has emerged unscathed into the computer age of the new millennium (as of today they’ve been friended 999 times on Facebook and they Tweet). Like everything that endures over time Barney's history is not all good, not all bad, but somewhere in the middle with colorful stories of human frailties and successes, the famous, the infamous and the everyday, evolving rather than remaining static. They advertise “A good meal for a fair price, terrific service and some genuinely friendly conversation” and every time I have been there, refreshingly without fail, this has turned out to be true.

They also advertise “If we don’t have it – you don’t need it.” And considering there are over 1,000 items listed on the menu this could actually be true. During the Depression customers couldn’t always pay for their chili so Barney’s would take their license plate in exchange and give it back when the tab was paid, considering the today’s economy it seems somehow fitting they will still give you a bowl of chili if you give them your license plate for collateral.

Beer has been served at Barney’s since Prohibition was repelled and with eighty-seven imports including Jamaica Red Stripe, Wychwood Hobgoblin, Young Double Chocolate Stout, and Pendle Witches Brew. The sixty-five domestic beers served include Iron City, Seadog Blueberry Ale, Micky’s Malt Liquor (whatever would Walt say!), Rogue Dead Guy Ale, Dogfish Head, Moose Drool, three kinds of Flying Dog Poggie Style, Liquid Sunshine Blond and Speakeasy Big Daddy. The twenty-nine brands on tape include Barney’s Own Brew, Blue Moon and Fat Tire. All in all they pretty much have something suited to everyone’s taste including four non-alcoholic brands. (Twin Fin and Dom Perignon are also available for those whose palettes are a little more finicky.)

Breakfast is served all day and I kinda like their idea of breakfast: “A giant chili cheese dog with choice of side and a bottle of Dom Perignon.” Of course the menu has two whole pages of other breakfast offerings but this one tickles me pink.

Surrounded by office buildings and high rise apartments Barney’s has stayed loyal to their roots, it’s unpretentious character surviving intact over the years while change occurred all around. On the porch stands an old traffic signal that was once used to signal chauffeurs that their owners were ready to leave or that a table had opened for them. John Barrymore, Jean Harlow, Bette Davis, Clark Gable, Errol Flynn, Judy Garland, Lou Costello, Norma Jean Mortenson, Shelly Winters, Desi Arnez, William Frawley, Steve McQueen, Peter Faulk (Colombo often ate at Barney’s), Marlon Brando, Jack Nicholson, Bette Midler, Elliot Gould, Dennis Hooper, Mel Gibson, Adam Sandler, Emilio Estevez, Rob Lowe, Keefer Sutherland, Charlie Sheen, and John Cusack have all been known to stop by. Drew Carey participated in a cigarette smoking sit-in at Barney’s in 1999,  and Quentin Tarantino worked on Pulp Fiction while hanging out there.

Regulars included Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix. There is even a small plaque embedded in the bar saying “Jim Morrison sat here” although it should probably run the length of the bar saying: and here and here and here and here… Janis Joplin’s album Cheap Thrills cover art by R. Crumb featured Barney’s Beanery at the bottom right and the tabletop that she signed hangs from the ceiling. The members of Led Zeppelin have stopped in, as well as Janes Addiction, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bob Dylan and Liza Minnelli.

The walls and ceilings are covered with movie and music posters from Easy Rider to the Foo Fighters to Muhammad Ali with the Beatles.  Neon beer signs, license plates, graffiti, framed newspaper and magazine clippings and street signs also adorn the walls and ceilings. The plates commemorate Route 66 in white and green checks as does a street sign on the ceiling. Watercolor sketches hang from cross beams. The seats in the booths have crayon colored stripes, red Coors lamps hanging above and the tabletops boast collages culled from Hollywood gossip magazines. “Thunder Road” low rider motorcycles hold up the ceiling dividing the rows of booths. Pool tables, video games (PacMan) and TVs make up the entertainment as Hendricks plays on the sound system. You can watch basketball, football and cartoons at the same time as a vibrating Fruit Loops commercial plays and Toucan Sam bursts out of a bowl of loops to the sound of Kiss singing “I want to rock and roll and party every day.” Not to mention that for the first time in memory the blow dryer in the lady’s room actually had the ability to completely dry hands (20 psi?).

While the scene has tamed down some from the notorious days when Dezi Arnez told William Farowly to clean up his act there, when Janis Joplin socked Jim Morrison in the face, when Morrison peed on the bar, when the Beanery was picketed because of a homophobic sign hanging behind the bar, when starving writers came in for a bowl of chili, if you go to Barney’s all American roadhouse today, you can still get your kicks on Route 66 along with excellent service, a generous helping of chili nachos and awesome burgers.

Nostalgia at 45 RPM

Amoeba Music claims to be the world’s largest independently owned music store and I believe them. On Sunset Blvd. between North Cahuenga Blvd. and Ivar Avenue it takes up an entire city block. With vinyl record albums taking up about a third of the store, walking through the doors is like doing the time warp.

Sifting through the albums brought back sounds, pictures, smells, parties of two and parties of two hundred, revelations, revolutions, fantasy and history. Shared experiences dovetail between music and movies, between cultural clashes and cultural celebrations, between reality and dreams. It was a shared odyssey of the senses, a journey of new experiences, new sounds, new images, new ideas, challenges and growth. The kind of growth through experience that Mother never taught us. Some of us made it and some of us didn’t. We were in free fall and didn’t realize it until we hit the ground.

There were some albums and experiences everybody had. Who could forget Carole King’s Tapestry, Chicago’s big chocolate bar, and Jefferson Starship’s Red Octopus, a many tentacled heart. Everyone spent a night at the Hotel California with the Eagles. Frampton came alive, Elvis died and the Beatles officially broke up.

Queen rocked us, Led Zeppelin showed us the way to heaven and Lynard Skynard taught us how to fly free. Billy Joel was a stranger and Neil Young said not to let things get you down. AC/DC was back in black and Johnny Cash was the man in black. Rod Stewart told us that with love the first cut is the deepest and the Stones fought off wild horses in the name of love. We learned that if you don’t eat your meat you can’t have any pudding. The building of a wall was documented and another wall came tumbling down.

Bruce Springsteen was born to run and Tommy ran away from it all, retreating into his own world. George Carlin said the seven words you can’t say on radio and Richard Prior set ears on fire with his language and himself on fire with a lighter. We fought killer bunnies and searched for the Holy Grail while some days a hard rain just fell.

Barbara Streisand was born a star, Stevie Nicks vamped it up like a gypsy princess, and Cyndi Lauper just wanted to have fun.

Electric Light Orchestra evolved from a neon hood ornament into a space dock. Jefferson Airplane became a starship. We had aliens from France, Mork from Ork, Wookies and Trekies. Aliens ate meatloaf and Meatloaf flew like a bat out of hell.

Today you can buy an LP to digital music converter, change your old LPs to MP3s and listen to your personal collection on your iPod. You can even share your playlist by docking your MP3 player, but the experience of vinyl still can’t be beat. It’s not just audible, it’s also tactile, visual and above all memorable. It’s a group experience, a cultural sharing rather than an individual, solitary journey. John Belushi went on a road trip and never found his way home, Peter Fonda & Dennis Hooper went looking for America and didn’t survive the trip, but we went looking for America and we found it… in our music.