HIGHWAY 301

Highway 301 stretches from Biddles Corner, Delaware, to Sarasota,  Florida. For the sake of the Lonely Street Bar Noir Pub Crawl, the distance traveled will be shortened. Shrink the route some more and it puts the locations within reach. 

During the 1940s, five men robbed banks, payroll vans, and businesses along Highway 301. They became known as the Tri-State Gang because they followed a path Highway 301 cut through Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. According to the movie, these heists, though violent, were carried out to give the men a clothing allowance, an entertainment expenditure, and enough leftover cash to eat like Gatsbys all around town.

This brings the bar noir pub crawl to its first stop along Highway 301 and that is Club Madrid. 

When you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go....

After a particularly brutal bank job in North Carolina, the gang decides to celebrate with their girlfriends. They take them to Club Madrid, a place dripping with 1940s chic.

Musical chairs at Club Madrid

Intimate circular tables, covered with white linen and topped with centerpiece lamps, were spread around a dance floor in the center of the dining room. Ladder back chairs with upholstered seats were grouped as many as eight to a table just big enough to hold drinks, ashtrays, and ladies' clutches. Patterned carpeting surrounded the dance floor which was framed by crowned columns and topped by a tented ceiling. Club Madrid was a place for an upscale celebration by the affluent or by patrons hoping to rub elbows with them.

Unless, of course, you were a gang of thieves that slapped, punched, and throttled to get your way or to silence someone who talked too much. Secrets stayed kept at the Club Madrid--or else...

Contrary to the swanky Club Madrid the following two stops along Highway 301 catered to the everyday, working-class Joes.

Up next was the kind of dive that hid behind a second name.  Durphy's was painted on the frosted glass window in that kind of old saloon font seen in westerns. Dave's, the name above the double doors, lit up the night inside a neon frame over the Durphy's window. It was literally the kind of place someone would kick the bucket in front of during a fight.

Where the bar has two names

For the final stop of the night, nothing said munchies like a visit to the Golden Poppy Cafe, continually referred to as 'that chop suey place' by the leader of the gang. 

                                                             That chop suey place

An L-shaped counter and a row of booths provided seating opportunities for patrons. A postcard carousel offered a keepsake memory of any visit. Additional sundries were available at the register. The menu was light but undoubtedly filled with traditional dishes. 

                                                                     Room for one more

Wall-sconced lamps offered a warmer, cozier feel to the diner. Napkin dispensers and ashtrays were available on every table. A booth comfortably held four guests.

Now the story of Highway 301:

Nothing good is going to happen in this movie. That is not to say it's a poorly made film. It's the kind of film that telegraphs its message.  Right from the start, three sitting governors of the day addressed the audience with a warning of how dangerous the Tri-State Gang was. From there it's a Kelly's Heroes march to an inevitable, violent end. The movie is particularly rough on women.

Highway 301 was written and directed by Andrew L. Stone. Steve Cochran stars as gang leader George Legenza. The movie offers early performances by Richard Egan and Robert Webber. If a rating is needed, 3 out of 5 whisky sours.

And so ends this stop along the Lonely Street Bar Noir Pub Crawl. The tour will continue as long as venues like Club Madrid, Dave's and Durphy's, and the Golden Poppy Cafe open their doors. Until then, make sure you settle your tab.

1/29/23
 

THE BLUE GARDENIA

The Blue Gardenia emulated an unexpected trend in post-World War II America. Like so many other bars of the era, the Blue Gardenia was born in the wake of Polynesian Pop, more commonly known as tiki.  Customers found themselves completely immersed in the idyllic atmosphere of the South Pacific. The ubiquitous tiki bar wasn't limited to film or TV.  The 600-hundred-seat Hawaiian Gardens thrived for many years in Pontiac, Michigan, after opening in the early 1960s. The dinner club offered an erupting volcano every hour and a continuously flowing river all under a bamboo umbrella.

The Blue Gardenia mirrored this design. 

Rattan screens guided guests into a dining room decorated with bamboo wall panels. Peacock wicker chairs around bamboo tables topped with rattan thatching awaited patrons. Once seated, a flower girl navigated the maze of dining cubicles created by the large, fan-backs of the chairs to sell gardenias to the men to give to their dates.

Would you care for another Polynesian Pearl Diver?

A dance floor just big enough to accommodate three couples was sandwiched between the dining area and a low-rise stage. The orchestra area wasn't much bigger but did manage to hold an upright piano, a five-piece drum set, a bass fiddle, and several chairs for the brass. A mirror hung above the piano so guests could see the pianist's hands.

Contrasting the theme was the open-all-night dive bar, Bill's Beanery, where five cups of joe and two hamburgers cost a guy a buck forty. 

                                                 The burgers are cheap, but the company isn't.

Bill's also offered a limited variety of liquors. A glowing globe atop the cash register and next to the nearly empty shelves let customers know Pabst Blue Ribbon was available. 

                                                               Telegraphing the plot.

A row of booths faced the bar, each separated from the other by a gapped thatch divider that casts black and white checkerboard on the wall. Each booth has a table-side jukebox. For a nickel, the mood could be set.

And now the story of The Blue Gardenia:

When Norah Larkin, a switchboard operator, finally agrees to go out with the persistent and charismatic portrait painter, Harry Prebble, he takes her to the Blue Gardenia for dinner, dancing, and drinks. Norah gets the drinks. Lots and lots of drinks. Harry introduces her to the Blue Gardenia's signature drink, the Polynesian Pearl Diver. Harry tells the waiter to go heavy on the rum. 

'I'm not much of a drinker.'

After several PPDs, Norah agrees to go back to Harry's apartment to view his paintings. The night turns ugly and Harry winds up dead. Norah wakes, sees Harry laying on the floor, and runs from his apartment unable to remember anything of the events that night after leaving the Blue Gardenia. Did she do it? That answer comes later in the movie.

The Blue Gardenia was written by Charles Hoffman from a story by Vera Caspary. Fritz Lang directed. The production designer was Maurie Seuss while Daniell Hall covered art direction. Released in 1953, as the tiki movement spread,  the movie starred Anne Baxter as Norah and Richard Conte as intrepid reporter Casey Mayo. Conte, as many know, is remembered as Don Barzini in The Godfather. The Blue Gardenia also features Raymond Burr as Harry Prebble and Anne Southern as Norah's roommate, Crystal. Nat King Cole makes an appearance to sing the titular song, 'Blue Gardenia' written by Bob Russell and Lester Lee. Also appearing in the film is Richard Erdman who had a recurring role on Community as Leonard.

5 out of 5 Polynesian Pearl Divers.

The Blue Gardenia kicks off this bar noir pub crawl. The journey will continue with future stops along Lonely Street at various pubs, clubs, and hubs.

Until then, make sure to settle your tab.

1/29/23