Duke (Tony) wishes to thank...Bessie, my love and partner in crime; Labatt Blue; Andy Capp; Python; Stooges (Iggy and The Three); HBO; 13; Howard Stern; Tanqueray Gin; Johnny, my other partner in crime (AKA Mallard and that Stray Cats dude); Mott; The Pros from Dover; Peanuts: Marx Brothers; Pacino/Deniro/Pesci; Myrtle Beach; Cap’n Kangaroo; Geils; Mesick; the tall handsome Swede; porn; Dolls and Pistols; Seinfeld; Nirvana; Wolverines; Duey Gullickson; Doonsebury: Silver Cricket; John Anthony Gillis; Wings; Sid and Sassy; Mich Light; Corleone family; Bugs Bunny; Riverdale High: Miss Wetmore; Dr. Schultz; Olympia Stadium; Barney Melnick; Big Time Wrestling; Ruttles; Glimmer Twins; Atticus Finch; St. Martha; the ‘Orrible ‘Oo; Racquel Welch; 3 Dix; air conditioning; Mad Magazine; 40 double natural; Mr. Ronald Koperski; George Carlin; Billy Sherbert; Raoul Duke; my loving Irish mother who always let me win in Mille Bornes; my arguing partner and best brother any brother could ever have Jimmy and his crew (Andy, Ray, the big fellow, the little guy and of course Louie).
Jim wishes to thank...my wife Andrea for being the rock of our little family; my three children (Rachel, Maxwell and Jackson) for providing my favorite role in life; ketchup and parmesan cheese for always being there; comedy albums from Carlin, Cosby, Marx Brothers, Pryor, Cheech and Chong; Rob, my best friend growing up and traveler through good and bad; New York Dolls; 68 Tigers; Bo Schembechler; Teddy, Baby and Louie; my little yellow house for twenty-five years of comfort; coffee induced regularity (drinking it, not taking it through a tube in my ass); my little brother Tony for defining the word loyalty; Friday nights for making the work week possible; Oasis for reaching me later in life when music had become stale; Ted’s Coney Island; Lake Breeze Lodge deep in the Upper Peninsula for having none of the comforts of home; shaved heads being socially acceptable; Mac products; Three Stooges and Little Rascals reruns for being the perfect compliment to an after school snack; Ernie Harwell, Mickey Redmond and Lord Athol Layton for being the Holy Trinity of Detroit sports broadcasting; Ten Eyck Park and Pine Park where I perfected bad sportsmanship; my lovely mom for giving me a soft side and always understanding.
Friday night found fellow booze hound Tony and I traveling to the Mecca of bad weekend behavior, Ferndale. The first stop on the Tour was Como’s at the northeast corner of Nine Mile and Woodward. One bit of advice regarding parking at this pizza joint/bar: don’t. Go to the west side of Woodward, park, and make your way back across Woodward (think drunken Frogger) to the pub.
Once there, go inside the restaurant, through the smallish dining area and out to the patio. We were greeted there by the manager, a fellow I have talked to over the years while working out at the “Y”. He explained that there was no cover, shook my hand with great enthusiasm and gestured grandly at all Como’s had to offer (thought he might amble over and buy us a beer, but...)
The best thing that Como’s has to offer is outdoor drinking. Tony and I made our way to a standing spot at the bar, only to be ignored by the bartenders chatting to one another. Finally, a kid who looked to be the busboy stopped by and took our order. His air of indifference and the difficulty of placing an order (“cans only sir”/ “Miller light in tall cans”/ “we don’t carry that brand”) made me doubtful. But, the kid came through and shined the rest of the night, keeping our order filled at $8.50 per round.
We turned away from the bar and took in the outdoor setting. It is a large space and is dominated by hanging plants and televisions which limit the sound from a busy intersection. I recall the muted beats of a DJ but could not tell you what was played or if anybody really listened. The wide variety of tables, booths and standing bar space were jammed with a crowd diverse in age, ethnicity and outward appearance (always nice).
Como’s has a reputation as being gay friendly, a characteristic that for some could be a deal killer or too sensitive for discussion. But, since I am not running for public office and don’t give a shit what others think, I will give you the straight (!) info.
The crowd did not seem especially thin, well dressed or artsy. They also were not flitting about, participating openly in sex, or doing piles of drugs (darn!). Folks were having fun drinking, groaning at the Tiger’s blowing a late inning lead, and eating thin crusted pizza, decidedly non-gay activities. Besides, if this were truly a gay crowd, wouldn’t some fellow have approached a juicy piece of man like myself?
One amusing aspect of the outdoor setting is that the men’s bathroom (and I assume the lady’s room as well) is a one person affair. If you are in need and head that way only to find the door locked, do you mill awkwardly around waiting your chance, or make your way back through the crowd and try later? Tony went with the latter and I loved watching him get rebuffed on three occasions before threatening to piss in the potted plants.
While I can’t define (or care about) the sexual preferences of the patrons or vouch for the pizza (eating is a no-no on the Tour), I can vouch for the setting and friendly vibe of Como’s outdoor venue (lot of V’s in that sentence). Still, when Zumaya finished blowing the late inning lead, we decided to wobble over to the newly opened Rosie O’Grady’s.
Have I ever mention that I love old Tiger Stadium (patience, I’m tying this in with the new Rosie’s)? It was dark, dank, had no ferris wheel or hi def scoreboard and was a great place to watch a baseball game. I attended the second from last game at the stadium (not enough status or money to go to the last game like hordes of phony Tiger fans), and at game’s end I made my way down the steps to the bullpen area and reached over the railing to scoop up some dirt from the hallowed ground. On the way out, I walked slightly ahead of my family so that I could get choked up and not feel like a complete asshole.
While I did not cut up a piece of sticky carpet form the old Rosie O’Grady’s in Ferndale, the closing of that great dive bar gave me a feeling similar to the closing of that great stadium. I’ve made an uneasy peace with Comerica Park, so a trip to the new Rosie O’Grady’s was needed (I think the tie-in was worth it).
The new Rosie’s sits loudly on the south side of Nine Mile west of Woodward and still boasts ample parking (way more ample than the aforementioned east side). As Tony and I cautiously made our way to the entrance, we were hailed by our good friend and bartender Mike. He was even more upbeat than usual. The outdoor break area he was talking to us from resembled a jail cell. Still, we managed to shake hands through thick metal bars and exchange pleasantries before ending our non-conjugal visit and heading inside.
At first blush, it is obvious that the new Rosie’s is going to be a hit with the masses, especially the young ‘uns. It features easy access to booze, outdoor seating made comfy by the presence of space heaters, a fire pit and flatscreens everywhere. Lots of space and light for texting and tweeting!
It took Tony and I awhile to spot the second half of the old Rosie’s dynamic duo, Lauren (pause briefly to picture her in a superhero outfit). Like Mike, she was all smiles over her new surroundings, and was working hard trying to keep the large opening weekend crowd happy.
It is way to early to render an opinion on the new Rosie’s though it is not too early to lament the passing of the old. Like that old edifice on the corner of Michigan and Trumbull, I will miss it’s dank charm, everyman personality and ultimate dive status. How the new Rosie’s fits remains to be seen (cliffhanger!).
Cheers!
-Jim
Como's: 22812 Woodward Ave. Ferndale, MI 48220
Rosie O'Grady's: 279 W. 9 Mile Rd. Ferndale, MI 48220
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