Aftermath

Mixed Bag - New Shit

Hey fellow drunks, notice anything different here? I know that most (all 4) of you may be amazed to see change and progress from a boozing bunch of assholes, yet here we are. Check out the new, kick-ass header and mother-effin’ shield! That’s right, yeah. Admittedly this never would have happened without outside intervention from folks with viable skills and shit, but thanks to our Nashville-based and former Knox-villain buddy we have some new graphics.

Mr. Owl says “Oooo Oooo” to everybody.

We’re not the only refurbished show in town. The Hilton has a sleek, new paint job that looks great. I noticed the update a couple of weeks ago and took this photo:

I like the new look and think it stands apart from the other drab buildings on that block. I feel compelled to drink at the hotel bar, The Orange Martini, just for an opportunity to go in the hotel and let them know that people have noticed. That is also a low priority goal of mine, to drink in more hotel lounges downtown. I’ll see how that goes and will provide updates if it actually occurs.

Music

The Wailers performed last night at Sundown in the City and played the complete album “Exodus”. It was totally packed, more than I can remember seeing down there in a very long time. I walked through and listened just for a minute and they sounded great. This is the one show I should have planned to attend but I had pressing business at the bar and couldn’t spare an extra minute to enjoy the music.

Lt. Rocka hasn’t given us an update in a while so I’ll have to check with him to see what’s up. The Black Crowes are scheduled to play in September; I haven’t seen them in concert for at least 5 years now and don’t know if I’ll make an attempt to see them this time or not, but I would like to go if I can find another relic like myself to see my former favorite band.

Looking ahead

World’s Fair Park has been in the news as a potential site for a brand spanking new library, guess that is a perfect fit since all the homeless folks hang out there anyway, should make an easy commute from the bum table across the lawn to free air conditioning and computer access. Great.

Wimbledon – The Championships. The most prestigious tennis tournament in the world starts Monday and I am fired the fuck up. I hope to watch it on TV as much as possible and will listen online when I am at work. Check the scores, news and listen here.

Some things that suck

Damn you Knoxville. Splash pads and fountains may play well with the average dolt of a citizen that blindly looks at parks and greenways on face value as signs of culture. Meanwhile, those of us with a basic understanding of filth and disease shake our heads in disgust. Since this sign was clearly a post-poop afterthought, no one in a position of authority dared think that degenerate parents would allow their Hellish drop to prance about non-treated water in diapers. Just fucking awful.



Damn you Fulmer. A common refrain these days in Big Orange Country, made all the more relevant given the lackluster victory over a lackluster opponent. The collapse of the college football season means ill tempers and a social epidemic of drinking away one's sorrows. Though we here believe in 'drinking our way through it' as described last week, it would be pleasant to have a reason to celebrate. Instead, the evenings following a UT game are not the festive events like they were during my college days. Saturday night was like a leper colony sans the hope.



Damn you wine hangover. Look, since the dawn of civilization and grape-stomping, people have grappled with the dehydrated headaches of drinking too much vino. Following last week's WOTW festival on the river, my head was pounding like a full-on artillery barrage. I've been to three of these things and nothing goes totally right for me. As an event, it's a great deal of fun. A varied selection of wine and food from local and regional vendors, plus its for charity so you can fool yourself that you are part of something better than swilling wine on Friday(which you would be doing anyway, drunkie).



Damn you Cleveland Browns fans.

Mother of God, look at this asshole. While I endorse pelting non-performers with rotten vegetables and C-cell batteries(similar damage to D batteries, but lighter) I cannot help wanting to become the biggest shill and program homer when faced with the likes of this 'fan'

Damn you local schmucks. While walking through the World's Fair Park Saturday I once again lamented the lack of a rocking bar in the former L&N. When I was a boy, it was the first place I really can remember people getting plastered. I wanted to be one of those patrons and eagerly looked forward to drinking there on my eighteenth birthday. Two things prevented me from doing so: The utterly capricious decision to bump the drinking age to twenty-one, and the asshole jerks that seem to have their fingers in everything. Sure, nothing escaped the financial turmoil after 82 down there, but gradually business and life has returned to the Park, be it in the Sunsphere or Convention Center. The meddling historic assholes and nebulous power players in this town can't agree on what to do with the place. It's a shame. Sitting on that enclosed patio looking over the Park would be a capital locale for casual boozing.

Come down to the Brewer's Jam this weekend and see if you agree about the L&N. Failing that, you can at least get some sweet beer action. That, at least, will not suck.

Alcohol Awareness

One of my favorite things about autumn in East Tennessee is that it seems to provide ample opportunities for drinking. Not that we don't drink a shitload of alcohol during the rest of the year, but in the fall, we seem to do it in groups a lot.

In fact, there are so many opportunities for Organized Boozing during the month of October, that I am hereby declaring it Knoxville Alcohol Awareness Month. Because, as I think everyone here would agree, it is important that we all be aware of the alcohol we are imbibing, or, at least, aware that we are imbibing alcohol. Whatever.

The following is a list of some of the alcohol-related events that I've heard about (and may or may not actually attend...depending on how drunk I've gotten beforehand); please feel free to add to the list by leaving a comment, if you know of something I've left out.

Friday, October 3rd: Wine on the Water.
For all of you winos out there, this is Knoxville's premier wine tasting event. Bonus: It's for charity. And who doesn't like to drink for charity.

Saturday, October 4th: Tennessee vs. Northern Illinois.
Is anyone actually going to the stadium for this game? No? Good, we can all meet at a bar and get drunk, as we watch the Vols attempt to actually win one.

Friday, October 10th: Cocktails in the Attic.
Hmmm...cocktails and an auction. Is this a bad idea? Better go and find out. Also, I love the L&N Station. It's such a neat and, in my opinion, underutilized building.

Saturday, October 11th: Brewers' Jam.
I don't need to say a lot about this event, as my colleague Tag Berauscht is doing a fucking miniseries on it. (Kidding, Tag! I'm loving your work so far.) I went to the BJ (hehe) last year and had a blast, so this year I'm just praying that we have good weather again. Because, World's Fair Park can be a bit of a mudpit when it rains.

Saturday, October 18th: Tennessee vs. Mississippi State.
At this point, the Vols are expected to have a 2-4 record. If that ain't an excuse to get together and drink (and boycott Fat Phil), then I don't know what is.

Sunday, October 19th: Hops and Hope 5K.
Let me get this straight: You run in a 5K, and at the end of it, you get to drink beer? Oh, I am so there. Unless, of course, I'm too hung over from the night before. It's a tough call.

Saturday, October 25th: Tennessee vs. Alabama.
One word: Belligerent.

Friday, October 31st: Halloween.
Okay, so I haven't actually listed a specific event here, but I'm sure there will be plenty to choose from. And, with Halloween finally on a decent day this year (the past three years, it was on Mon., Tues., and Wed., dammit), I might actually dress up. This will definitely be a fine night to cap off what looks to be an excellent month of drinking in Knoxville.

And with that...let the Organized Boozing begin!

Endorsement: Package Store

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Bar Review: Southern Graces Skybox

Not long ago, Mackey regaled us with his prescient skills and foretold the good news that the Sunsphere would be pushing booze. He has that ability apparently when it is booze related. He is Beeradamus. Anyway, the setting:

Last week we took the long elevator ride up to the bar. First one must be patient and take the elevator on the right...Number One. This will only happen after Number Two answers the call five times in a row. At least. By the time you get to the 4th floor you will have found yourself thirsty, needing to take a whiz, and utterly spent of small talk for the ride up. Feh.

ELEVATOR FLIES OPEN

Well, first off you see the bar itself. The best piece in the joint actually. All the little things in the area seem to be well decorated and crisp. The bar looks out over the Fort, and you can really see quite a ways up to the ridge. Same with the other side of downtown and south Knoxville. It's quite bright...swinging back over to The Compound, and UT...the Hill and Stadium are prominent.

It's really dark in here. Like makeout dark. Most folks are trying and failing miserably at any suitable pictures...yours truly no exception.

Some things were curious though. The service is still badly working out the kinks. The cocktail tables to the left of the bar are high tops, and when boozing you get a righteous case of vertigo if you aren't ready for it. That does fade though, and one gets use to the dark surroundings in a hurry to really appreciate the view.

It ain't cheap...no draft beers, wine and liquor are encouraged. I have no problem with either. Especially the latter.

I hope this enterprise can make it...given the logistic concerns, crowd management might be a problem. Then again, I can think of worse issues. Get your ass up there soon, in any case.

The Lost Art of the Pub Crawl

This purloined picture kicks ass, no?

Following on today's post regarding the legal drinking age and returning collegians, I began thinking about the time honored tradition of pub crawls. Generally, this could be a garden variety post that is not remarkable in the larger sense. Specifically though for Knoxville, it gets a little complex. (What a fucking surprise)

You see, back in the 1990's Knoxville and Knox County apparently didn't get the memo on urban sprawl. I'll spare you the noxious and overly technical accusations about finger annexations, zoning and the like and just say that this town isn't friendly to pub crawlers as a whole. Last Christmas, during the heyday of Whiskey Season the authors and some friends decided to resurrect this fun practice. It was okay, but failed to really achieve the goal of at least ten bars. We had a good crowd, but that sort of works against you when pubs are cloistered in regions that require either a driver, cab, or transportation other than one's feet. If you want to start way out west and work your way into downtown or the Old City, then pack a lunch and good fucking luck.

While waxing idiotic on my college days in the early/mid 90's I can remember getting close to twenty degenerate power drinkers and floozies together on the Strip and moving westward. Vintage bars like Hawkeyes, The Roman Room, Out-of-Bounds, Spicys(the very first one), The Lap, The Library, O'Chucks, Ruby Tuesdays(again, the first one before the chain sucked), Tap Room...all would be hit before ending up at OCI's. Those were the days. First, if you could stand at the bar you would get served...none of this pussified carding shit the law has now screwed us with(eat shit teenagers) and you could walk to each of them. These days, Knoxville is set up with little cliques and fiefdoms in sections of town that rarely interact with one another. It's provincial.

This really isn't a problem in other places, so I confess a bit of jealousy there. The good people at http://www.yourpubcrawl.com/ for example, can set you up with a nominal drinking tour of Edinburgh.

Not bad. I am sure other resources similar to this one are out there. Personally though, I just think that these things are best done by word of mouth, so motivation and a powerful sense of guile are needed. Grab a group of thirsty bastards and descend on several local bars like a MIRV:

If you do it correctly, you should leave the various bars in a similar state...that is to say, radioactive and utterly uninhabitable.

As football season nears along with the Whiskey Season, I encourage each of you to reclaim your honor by hitting every bar you can within one courageous night.

Bar Review: Sidestreet Tavern

Oddly, the blur in the photo closely mirrors my drunk ass vision at the time.

Today we review another of the 'short west' bars, this one firmly lodged in the quaint little mess...er maze of Homberg Place. Sidestreet Tavern looks to be a converted dentist or doctor's office from the 1970's, that is to say a weird layout and floorplan. For example, there are two bars of modest size on opposite ends of the place. To be fair, both bars are suitably equipped and comfortable...well placed televisions and perhaps the rarest of all bar gems--a damn jukebox with a proper artist list and volume keyed at just the right level. Bonus: Cute girl at the bar with musical taste at said jukebox. So far so good.

One of the weirder aspects of this place is the upstairs area. It's basically an open area that reeks of a converted bedroom or office. Cozy couches and some bar games give it the appearance of someone's living room. Seems a pretty cool place to loiter, but you will have to navigate stairs to get a refill. As we all know, stairs/steps are the bane of the besotted drunkard so tread with care.

Sidestreet offers a standard pub fare on the menu...nothing outrageous to be found there, and they have a liberal happy hour policy from 3-8 everyday. Not bad at all, although that information would have been more helpful to me with more than six minutes remaining. Shit.

This is one of the dwindling number of bars in Knoxville that still permits smoking, so leave your kids at home(where they should be anyway, you jackasses) and prepare to launder your garments afterward.

Oh, and for the love of God, don't park in the kitschy antique store parking lot. Sumbitches will tow your ass, as the ubiquitous signs proclaim quite loudly.

So, if you are in this part of town and want to drink a few in a place other than the Toddy's consortium...you're in luck, Sidestreet will take good care of you. The service is impeccable and friendly.

Expectation and Frustration

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Bar Review

Kitty Kaga presents to you: The Half Barrel

Okay, this is already a weird one. The Half Barrel on Cumberland Avenue, aka The Strip, is the leftover detrius from Knoxville's abortive attempt at a Beer Sellar. I'm going to be perfectly honest, any new business on The Strip has it tough from my perspective. Gone are the days of The Lap, Library, Ivy's, The Roman Room, Varsity Inn, and Hawkeyes. Those places kicked serious ass for decades and what passes for bars down there these days reeks like pure gasoline.

We've had some mixed experiences at this place. Excellent beer selection, but a menu that has changed a bit. Ephemeral. Some exotic and out of the way items have given way to standard pub fare. Sure, that's okay, if you want to remain amongst the common nebulae of local bars. If you want to stand out though, make a name for yourself, you might want to go back to the beer brats and Thai chicken dishes folks.

The strength of this place is the long and spacious bar, and as I mentioned it has a great many beers on draft...at least a couple dozen at last count. Low-Down Brown, Stella Artois, Abita, along with the standard macrobrew trash, so you have some choices to make. I recommend looking at the menu when you get there to check for prices as there is quite a bit of range there. Being a college bar, they are not above specials, such as 22 oz Yeungling "Bombers" on certain weeknights, but for the most part you aren't coming away from here cheap.

Also a pro is the varied liquor selection. You can get all the various bourbons you would expect at a high end joint...single barrel Jack, Beam Black, Special Reserve Crown, Blantons to name a few. Even though yours truly is not a Scotch drinker, you can find a wide variety up top as well.

The physical allure of most bars is somewhat missing here. At the time of our last visit, the pool table was gone and the back room is now just a hallway to the pissoirs.

All in all, this is a decent enough place for a gameday or a casual night out...but not for one's primary joint. My 2 cents.

Bar Review

Macleod's University Gathering Place

The latter is emphasized. This is because that for many years, Macleod's was a downtown gathering place. Due to ruthless and utterly prickish assholes that leased the property, management had to move to the UT campus. A once thriving place for a sound lunch and happy hour beverages now exists as a standard bar on The Strip.

A bit of a disclaimer is needed here. The authors of this blog are friends with the owner and proprietor of this bar, so you can expect nothing but praise. When this place was in its original confines, bad behavior and powerdrinking would be de riguer. The lunchtime atmosphere would be replaced by hardy chemical fiends and madness would ensue. It was pretty much the only game in Market Square, indeed, downtown at that time...which makes its ignominious move to campus even more disgraceful.

Macleods has a standard format for a campus bar...jukebox, pool table, bar games, and upon occasion karaoke. Management has adapted well from the lunch-theme to nightlife, and the drafts will pour freely...whiskey served in abundant amounts. It goes from zero to sixty in no time, and you can be the only patron in the bar one minute and literally awash in drunks within the hour. The menu is sound as a pound(sterling) and you can't go wrong with any burger or club sandwich the kitchen produces. Yeungling and Maker's Mark are there to keep this author satisfied.

I am proud of this place, and hope that all six of you get your asses down there more often. We all should.

Sundown 2.0- The Contrarian View

On the heels of Mackey's post regarding Sundown minutia, I feel compelled to add some thoughts on this once-relevant activity.

Sundown in the City has been hashed out on many local blogs and message boards, and a variety of viewpoints and opinions have surfaced. Too many kids, we should welcome the kids, not enough places to get a drink, too much drinking, etc. and so forth throughout perpetuity.

Allow me to give the more or less official view of Sundown from the bloggers here:

It now sucks.

A little background is necessary. The authors here break the year down into boozing seasons and Sundown was the proverbial spring of drinking, just as it coincides with the onset of the common Springtime. It's a time to shake off the doldrums of winter, see old friends that come out of hibernation, watch some cool regional and nationally renown bands, end up at the patio of the Downtown Grill and Brewery. Rinse and repeat. Up until a few years ago, the crowd seemed a friendly mixture of powerdrinkers and sophisticated music fans co-existing in a fun atmosphere. Now, it's a draconian exercise in KPD and the city's desire to regulate their responsibility and fun. Also you can't swing a cat without hitting drunkass teenagers and students. (hypocrisy disclaimer-while the authors were once punkass underage drinkers ourselves, we were much much cooler than the chumps and chumpettes that do so now, so suck it!)

Mackey has alluded to the rules regarding bottled water and paying for the 'privilege' to drink in addition to the product itself. Absurd. I can understand the mentality of these events even if I don't agree with them. Just like Rossini, the powers that be want you to have to complete Heraklean labors to just get a fucking beer. Stand in line for a wristband, stand in line for a ticket, stand in line for a beer. It all takes precious time that frankly we don't have in a mass of peeps.

While the lineups in years past have been great(Drive-By Truckers, Gin Blossoms to name a couple) and this year is no exception, the crowd has simply outgrown the venue. It's a hot sticky concrete canyon and is hotter than balls. It makes my friends that live downtown miserable simply by virtue of having thousands of folks in their grill.

I can understand the great passion that many people have for Sundown, even now...and respect that viewpoint. But for the professional drunkard, eschew the show, find a barstool and hunker the fuck down.

Don't Drink and Dive

So much fun stuff happened this past holiday weekend that I can hardly keep up with it all. We drank a lot. We ate a lot. We laughed a lot. However one event stands out on its own, and that would be my idiotic ass diving into a 3' pool and taking half the skin off my nose, lip and chin. Adding insult to my injuries is the fact I knew it was only 3' - 4' deep and I did it anyway. The scars really aren't that bad and have mostly healed already. My damaged reputation may never heal, especially around our group of arseholes. I guess I possiby deserve this after all the recent talk of Joe Leduc's "blood oath".

Examine a shooter 1.0

Kentucky Bow-Legged Woman(amounts approximate)

Jim Beam(1-1.5 ozs)

Amaretto

Pineapple Juice

Lime Juice

Triple Sec(the black sheep bastard everyone forgets)

Combine, shake, and strain out. Will fuck you up big time, so make certain you have a free morning to shake off the guilt and baleful glances of friends and co-workers.

Favored by booze-mongers in K-town, this preferred libation of the group is feared and respected by the new generation as never before. Once a staple drink of the authors, now used strictly as a strategic nutshot during the Liquor War of 07-08.

In Vino Veritas

It's been mentioned by Mackey that we went to a new(well new-ish) pub over the weekend. I've posted before that we write this blog for our own entertainment, primarily, and that holds true for one other aspect of Drinking Knoxville. It's a resource.

You the reader(who may now be counted in double digits, mayhap an even dozen) will get the straight dope on bars and pubs we frequent, or even the places we go intermittantly like some sort of wine-swilling diplomat. While you get this valued information and decide where to spend your filthy shekels, we are challenged to strike out from the comfortable barstools and tables where scores of servers and tenders of the bar refer to us as regulars. (Most of the time with hate in their beady, hopeless eyes.)

Together we will assault the bars and joints in this Brigadoon of a town...sparing you only the noxious reviews of franchised eateries and soul-murdering chain bars. They can eat a bowl of dick.

One more thing, if you are ever asked by a beautiful woman if she can sample your wine...don't be surprised when the hooker bitches at you when she spills it. It's an odd but universally held conception that no good deed goes unpunished.

Drinking Knoxville

Welcome to Drinking Knoxville - a blog written by local drunks for all you other drinkers out there.

What to expect: drunken stories, juvenile humor, crude obscenities, local opinions, sports references, bar and brand reviews, amature writing.

What Not to expect: political correctness, responsible behavior, quality graphics, decency, sense.

So with that out of the way we will soon begin our regular postings to entertain ourselves, and possibly some others along the way.