Comedy
Picks
The sky's a long, black, bored yawn. Everything looks dirty,
like the help forgot to drop by for a couple hundred years
and then called to say, screw it, we quit.
Times like these, you need your Uncle Max. The straight
arrows who run this scandal sheet want me to share the inside
line on where to scratch up dirt after dark. From now on,
the night belongs to the Nightcrawler. Tell the schleps
at Michelob I said hello.
This is the place, week after week, for the latest on the
oh-so-fabulous and not-so-famous booze troughs, artsy cabaret
playpens, stand-up gigglemongers and creatures
of the dark. And sometimes, when I've tagged a new neighborhood
ripe for cruising, I'll let you in on that, too.
Take Multnomah Village, for instance. Sure--it's
not the Gilded Age in this pocket-sized Southwest province.
It's just a nice place to go for some Dutch courage on a
cold, dark night. So I hit the M.V. offramp a few weeks
back. By the time I settled in at O'Connor's (7850
SW Capitol Highway, 244-1690), the Village's low-slung old
buildings and seaside feel had me temporarily snuggly.
O'Connor's has that wood-paneled pub thing clicking for
it. The only flaw is the music, some piped-in vomit that
would make Kenny G. feel avant-garde. I got over it. I asked
the waitress if this one beer was any good. "I dunno," she
said. "I don't drink microbrews. I know that's probably
bad." Hell, no, lady! Stand tall. It's damn refreshing to
hear someone tell it like they like it in this prissy hopista
dictatorship. Still, I gave the Henry Saxer Public Ale
a pull. It was on sale.
This stuff is good. Smooth, just the right amount of sweet.
Big, broad shoulders, a firm chin--whatever. I'm not a poet
or (God forbid) a "brewmaster." This is just solid beer.
No screwing around. Max likes it.
A specimen tottered at the bar. The barkeep told him, "Hey,
don't worry, this is the special liquor." Special or not,
it was working. The mook was pummeling a Christmas carol
within the hour--good thing, too, 'cause a synth-sax solo
had just started on the house system.
The other drinkers included a fella who looked like the
Unabomber's fashion consultant and some young roughnecks
sucking it down. Others rolled in and out: a couple of date
scenarios, families looking to nosh, oldsters up past bedtime.
In all, a real nice crowd to have a few with. Soon as I
drained the Saxer, though, I was out, looking for someplace
where the lite stuff was on tap, not on the stereo.
I ducked round the corner to The Ship Tavern (7827
SW 35th Ave., 244-7345), a roistering place full of collegiate
types. The baseball-cap crowd puts me off my suds, but I
liked the crunch of peanut shells on the floor, the cool
bartender, the dirt-cheap Bud and icy-hot jukebox. The well-lit
Ship's the neighborhood sporting palace, with ample pool
and various videotronic diversions, all popping. Babbling
kids made an OK scene on a Thursday night, but after just
one joy-capsule, I wanted something darker.
Across the street, the pink neon of Renners Grill (7819
SW Capitol Highway, 246-9097) called me. As soon as I scoped
the frayed, smoky, beet-red interior, I knew why. The nice
gal at the taps shoveled a little Renners history--since
the '30s, Villagers have sought alcoholic sustenance in
this dusky cubby hole, and it hasn't gotten much more than
a slap and tickle since Eisenhower. Still, not a single
come-lately swingster/programmer patsy blowing his IPO wad
on a "vintage" zoot suit in sight. Perfect.
Two mulletheads argued Biblical theory. A Chinese fella
conducted a circular discussion with his ladyfriend. An
old-timer at the end of the bar gave me the crook-eye. On
the juke, Old
Blue Eyes told it like it was.
By midnight in the Village, Max Malt was proud to be an
American. Til next week then--drink it down.
COMEDY
PICKS
Brody Theater
"Monologic"
1904 NW 27th Ave., 224-0688
8 pm Friday and Saturday, Jan. 7 and 8, $5
ComedySportz
Competitive improv
1963 NW Kearney St., 236-8888
9 pm Friday, Jan. 7
7:30 and 9:30 pm Saturday, Jan. 8, Cover
Original Comedy Acts
Portland Comedy Competition Semi-Finals
Jimmy Mak's
300 NW 10th Ave., 295-6542
9 pm Monday, Jan. 10, $3
Kelly Moran, Danny Vilapondo
Stand-up Harvey's Comedy Club
436 NW 6th Ave., 241-0338
8 pm Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday, 8 and 10:30 pm Friday,
6:30, 9 and 11:30 pm Saturday, Jan. 5-9, $8-$10.
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Willamette Week | originally
published January 5,
1999
|
