Dive Bars

Someday, I wish to write a book or journal about bars, bar culture and bar history. I love bars, and I have given some thought as to why. It is so much more than just the drinking, one can drink very effectively and economically at home. No, to be in a bar be it sipping on a relaxing cocktail or madly power drinking the draft beer special, there are stories, and people and atmosphere surrounding the activities that happen within the confines of a bar. Of course all bars differ in their intent, some are classy places with an eye to the upscale cocktail connoisseur, you know, the black tie piano bar sort of place. Then there are the sports bars, where working men and women go to throw back a few drinks after work or watch the big game on Sunday surrounded by big screen TV's and sports Jerseys hanging on the walls. Some bars are called clubs, where one goes to "hook up" , get and eyeful of each other and if there is enough alcohol, dance. I have always called this sort of bar a "meat market". Sometimes a bar is really a restaurant that sells alcohol. Other times the place is a bar that serves food. In my quest to chronicle bars and bar culture, I realized I need a working definition of what an individual bar is in reality. I have decided to focus my attention on the dive bar, that little place on the corner that has been there for decades. A place your grandfather may have talked about, a place with stories to tell, and cold beer to serve.

What is a dive bar?
Generally speaking it is a small, older bar, it seems that a bar has to decline before it becomes a dive. The bathrooms are small and smelly, the bar is old and scuffed up, the clientèle is working class and the juke box features country music, and beer drinking rock and roll that is 15 years out of date. You know the music I am talking about, AC/DC, Van Halen, Def Lepard. A dive bar can never be a restaurant, but may occasionally sell food. If a true dive bar sells food, it is deep fried and made in a converted mop closet. A good dive needn't be dangerous but sometimes they are. A dive bar typically has a good looking bartender at night, and a not so good looking one during the day. These bars are open in the morning, and stay open till the legal closing time. None of these wimpy midnight or one A.M. closing times for a good dive bar, this puppy will be closed for a whopping 4 hours in our state. Closed at 2 open at 6.
I must admit I have never been in a dive bar at 6 A.M. but I wish to try it sometime. Just go in and order a beer, and the "breakfast sandwich" that is prepared in a micro wave in the mop closet. It would be pretentious to order a bloody mary at a dive bar in the morning. The dives in my town are typical of the genre, they are mere watering holes, places to get a drink, cheap and quick most of the time but come the weekend, or after 5 P.M. they liven up and become almost clubs, in that there are folks trying to party, people trying to forget, men and women trying to hook up. Some of the best times I have ever had on a Saturday night where had at a small dive bar.

Dive bars often smell like Pine Sol, they always smell like old beer, and stale cigarette smoke. Add a few dozen drinkers with all their perfumes and colognes and it becomes a pungent scent indeed, and will instantly bring back memories of dive bars past the moment you get a whiff. Biker types go to dive bars, some dive bars even cater to the biker crowd. I have drank side by side with biker clubs out for the afternoon and they are fine, I usually get a free drink. In a dive bar the selection is usually not very good, as far as the beer and liquor available for consumption. However, this is not always the case and cannot be used as the sole indicator of the dive rating of a bar. There will always be Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels, if you look real hard they may have some rot gut that the old timers drink. Dive bars stock what sells, so these days you will see many bottles of vodka on the shelf, but not so much gin. Wine is almost never found in a dive bar with the possible exception of the wine that comes in miniature bottles with a screw top.

Happy hour at a dive bar starts early and ends late, one of the best happy hours in my town starts at 3pm and goes till 7pm. Draft beers in the large 22 oz. glass are only $2.00. I can put away a lot of $2.00 beer in four hours. Some of the best happy hour prices are to be had at small dive bars so be sure to stop in and have a cold one with the boys one evening after work.

Dive bars always have a pool table, sometimes they have a dart board. You will seldom see anything fancier than that, but occasionally there will be a “Golden Tee” console near the door. Some bars bring in live music on the weekends. These are some of my favorite times, to see a live band and get wasted on cheap liquor. If a bar brings in a band you have actually heard of outside the bar circuit, it is not a dive bar.

One of the best features of this type of bar is the family atmosphere, I don’t mean it is ok to bring the kids and prop the baby up at the waitress station, what I am talking about is the kind of esprit d corps that develops over time. The same folks come in night after night or week after week and friendships are made. Many times the bartender is also the bar owner, and this adds to the family feel of the place. Not all dive bars share this special attribute, some are downright unfriendly and mean. Still it is likely there is still a familial aspect to the place just a mean family.

Recently I took a whirlwind tour of three of Lancaster’s dive bars. I visited each one long enough to enjoy two beers. I tried to visit the restroom in each one as well. Here are my impressions.

Leo’s Bier Haus:

This place is fascinating, it dwells on a busy main street and has a porch around the outside walls. The building looks every bit of it’s century of life. Upon parking on the busy main street, I had to walk around to the side door where there was a ramp and the main entrance. The place was long and narrow and fairly dark, it didn’t smell like Pine Sol so much as just years of partying.

I was immediately struck by the bar and back bar. It was magnificent, long and stretching nearly the entire length of the main hall. While it was festooned with tacky beer signs, bumper stickers and other silly doo dads, I could still see how beautiful this antique was. There was an original mirror in the back and large pillars reaching all the way to the ceiling, at one time they were probably 14 feet tall but today the ceiling is lowered with cheesy acoustic tile. There was a good crowd at Leo’s Bier Haus, it was roughly 4pm on a Saturday afternoon. I noticed there weren’t any liquor bottles on the big, pretty back bar and soon realized they had a beer only license, also the beer selection was pretty lame, three domestic brands on tap and a dozen or so brands in bottles. I was hoping with a name like Leo’s Bier Haus, I could expect rich dark German beers flowing from pewter schooners and buxom beer maids to deliver it. Such is not the case. There was a very warm family atmosphere in this bar, clearly a neighborhood joint and everyone knew each other. I spoke with the bar tender briefly who also owns the joint. She bought it from her father who owned it for over 30 years. She said the building had always been a bar. Taking the long view of this place it was probably a hub for working class men, that would hit it after work in the mill or factory. Over time it became more of a neighborhood hang out.
I got a Budweiser draught, it was served in a frosted mug and was fresh and cold. The price for the 12 oz. mug was $1.75.

The Fairview Inn:

This place is a classic, almost not a dive bar, since it is steeped in tradition and history. Much of that history is retained and is visible at this old bar. This place is called the Fairview, not because the view out the window is “fair” but because it is directly across the street from the Fairfield county fair grounds. So there is indeed a view of the fair, and thus the Fairview inn. The first thing one notices is the antique neon sign hanging outside, the piece looks to be original to the building and has a wonderful patina that only comes from age and years of being in the weather. The sign works too, and is lit every night.

Once inside I was struck by how small the place is, there are several rooms in the back of the main bar room, I found a barstool and sat at the bar. There are also several small booths along the east wall. This bar didn’t smell like Pine Sol, but rather of Ozone, this O3 odor was coming from a medium sized “smokeeter” hanging on the wall. I found this to be a cruel twist of irony since this bar has chosen to enforce the recent state wide smoking ban. Perhaps it was churning away to freshen the hot air coming from the patrons.

At 3:30 in the afternoon, the bar was doing a fair business, the crowd was mixed with men at the bar and a group of women in a booth. The back bar here is quite remarkable with the main feature being the original walk in cooler, and the old wooden doors that allow access to the cooler. Many brands of domestic and imported beer are displayed on shelves just inside the doors, the backlighting accentuating the chill condensation around the glass. There was a great selection of liquor to be had with the usual emphasis on vodka. Top shelf drinks were $4.00, I enjoyed a Blue Moon on tap that was served in a 12 oz. frosted beer mug with the traditional orange slice. I paid $2.00 for this luxurious potable.

There is a sign over the front door proclaiming the Fairview has been serving guests since prohibition. I like this bit of history, in fact the place may have once been an actual “inn” since there are living accommodations above the bar, probably rented as apartments today. There was a wide screen TV, I did not notice a juke box but I assume there was one. The bathrooms were clean but small. I would like to spend a quiet weeknight with a friend drinking and talking the night away in this place. It is a great neighborhood hang out and only barely qualifies as a dive bar.

Sweeny’s:

Here is another bar that was once something greater. There is a grand bar and back bar that probably seats 40 drinkers and extends nearly from front door to rear. The main bar room has 18 foot ceilings that are clad in their original tin tiles. The floor is wooden and it just looks like a brawling 19^th century saloon. The back bar is incredible, overlook the odd garnishes taped hither and thither, and the grandeur of a time long forgotten becomes clear. A massive mirror serves as the back drop surrounded by solid, quarter sawn oak.

The liquor selection was average at best, and the beers were domestic. Sweeny’s doesn’t really know what it is, the bar owners are trying to pass it off as an Irish pub, but putting some shamrocks on the walls and a Guinness sign does not an Irish pub make. They do not even serve Guinness, or Harp. They did have a bottle of Jamisons but not Bushmills. There was a jukebox, it was wired to a dial up connection, so if the song you wanted wasn’t available on the machine, it would go out and search a database and retrieve it for you. The problem here is the dial up, one gentleman had been waiting on a song the entire time we were there. The music selection was average for the genre, the good old boys playing euchre at the end of the bar were complaining about the 80’s rock and roll coming out of the machine.

I ordered a draft beer, it was cold and delicious but was served in a clean but non frosted mug. The bartender was a young woman, who smoked like a chimney, but looked pregnant, perhaps she was just pot bellied and smoking. I questioned her about the history of the place, she didn’t know much but assured me it had been there for as long as she could remember, that accounts for 10 years anyway. The entire time we where there, a cadre of partiers at the west end of the bar were catching a nice buzz and having a good time. Half the group was suddenly in a hurry to leave and one of the gentlemen in the party had just ordered a beer, rather than gulp it down, he gave it to me explaining he hadn’t touched it. So even though it was Bud Light it was free and I drank it.

If Sweeny’s dropped the Irish pub attempt, or even embraced it, one or the other it would be a spectacular drinking establishment.

I have since visited two more bars, and this foray into the wilds of Lancaster’s drinking establishments has just begun, think of this essay as only a reconnoiter exercise. I hope after reading about my adventures, you will be inspired to grab a $20.00 bill and go leave it at the dive bar of your choice.