Saturday, March 1, 2008
This Date in 340 Club History
March 1, 1981 a lease between G.H. Kratzert and Ted Knorr, Phillip (sic) Zangari, and Randy Brown calling for the landlord to let unto the three named above all that certain property known as 340 W. King Street, Lancaster, PA for a term of one month (recurring) yielding and paying the landlord the rent of two hundred fifty dollars payable monthly. The second coming was then officially underway.
This Date In 340 Club History
This is a new feature which will appear from time to time when any of us have anything to commemorate that happened at 340 a long time ago. This first such feature is dedicated to 340 Club residents #15 and #16. Unfortunately it is also one day late.
On this date, February 29th, in 1984, John & Sue & Sylvester the Cat moved out of the 340 Club and into their home on Lafayette Street in the Pinata Hill (formerly Cabbage Hill) section of Lancaster. The two have lived there in wedded bliss ever since. Unfortunately, Sylvester never adjusted to life without Sil, Phil and Tee and became a Bag Cat roaming in search of other 340 Clubs. As we know there can be only one and the cat had a very tough life.
In any case Happy Anniversary (of your loving new home) John & Sue!
On this date, February 29th, in 1984, John & Sue & Sylvester the Cat moved out of the 340 Club and into their home on Lafayette Street in the Pinata Hill (formerly Cabbage Hill) section of Lancaster. The two have lived there in wedded bliss ever since. Unfortunately, Sylvester never adjusted to life without Sil, Phil and Tee and became a Bag Cat roaming in search of other 340 Clubs. As we know there can be only one and the cat had a very tough life.
In any case Happy Anniversary (of your loving new home) John & Sue!
340 Club Reunion Tickets
Here is the current tally -
Tickets Sold - $60 (3 tickets)
Patron Pledges - $30 (3 donors)
Anonymous Donations - $100 (one donor)
TOTAL - $190 ... party will likely cost approximately $1500
order tickets thru Phil ... tickets will be printed soon (circa 4/1) ... purchase now
$20 per ticket, $10 patron donations appreciated, $25 program ads available if your company or employer so desires
I expect between 60 and 150 (fire law limit) attendees
ticket entitles you to admission, free beer, free munchies, 340 Club card, souvenir program, and 340 Club entertainment not seen in over 20 years!
Tickets Sold - $60 (3 tickets)
Patron Pledges - $30 (3 donors)
Anonymous Donations - $100 (one donor)
TOTAL - $190 ... party will likely cost approximately $1500
order tickets thru Phil ... tickets will be printed soon (circa 4/1) ... purchase now
$20 per ticket, $10 patron donations appreciated, $25 program ads available if your company or employer so desires
I expect between 60 and 150 (fire law limit) attendees
ticket entitles you to admission, free beer, free munchies, 340 Club card, souvenir program, and 340 Club entertainment not seen in over 20 years!
340, we bid you adieu
The unimaginable happened. The 340 Club was dying. Mitch and Kenny were gone. Tee moved to Howard Avenue. Dean Staherski according to our memory banks tried the Club lifestyle for a few weeks in November but couldn't cut it. That left City L and me.
City decided to opt out first. I can't recall where he went but I knew it wasn't my cup of tea to live by myself in a six bedroom house. It was cost prohibitive and too "scary" being alone.
Piles of trash had been accumulating in the once rocking Club living room and dining room. Real or imagined I saw cockroaches enjoying whatever repast they found in those bags. I had to leave.
Richard "R.E." Lichty offered a haven. He was separated from his wife and had a nice two-bedroom home in Millersville. I quickly accepted his offer. I dunno who helped me move but on December 1st,1978 I was out of the 340. It was a friday night. R.E. celebrated my arrival with a party. I remember Bob Harman and the Walsh boys being there along with several men/women I had never met before. We played Charades and had substantial quantities of potables. It was hard to believe that the 340 Era was over, little did we know about the Second Coming.
City decided to opt out first. I can't recall where he went but I knew it wasn't my cup of tea to live by myself in a six bedroom house. It was cost prohibitive and too "scary" being alone.
Piles of trash had been accumulating in the once rocking Club living room and dining room. Real or imagined I saw cockroaches enjoying whatever repast they found in those bags. I had to leave.
Richard "R.E." Lichty offered a haven. He was separated from his wife and had a nice two-bedroom home in Millersville. I quickly accepted his offer. I dunno who helped me move but on December 1st,1978 I was out of the 340. It was a friday night. R.E. celebrated my arrival with a party. I remember Bob Harman and the Walsh boys being there along with several men/women I had never met before. We played Charades and had substantial quantities of potables. It was hard to believe that the 340 Era was over, little did we know about the Second Coming.
Outpost of Humanity: 1978
In the fall of 1978 I left the friendly confines of the 340 Club and moved east about eight blocks to a small, modest, urban, starter home on Howard Avenue in Lancaster. The home cost me about $9,000 if memory serves me and a 15 year mortgage even at Jimmy Carter stagflation interest rates was about half of the 340 Club rent. A roommate, therefore (do the math), made my mortgage the same level as my 340 rent. My roommate was former 340 Club member Jimmy Shay (and his lady Vicki). We were different, different drugs, different education, different cadre of friends but united in familiarity, dependability, and shared little pointed corners. Jimmy could move in to my house tomorrow. Counting his 340 time, all in all Shaybert spent not quite two years as my roommate. 72 Howard was a one and ½ story, frame house, that featured a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, bathroom, basement (with dirt floor), and a nice size yard.
The neighborhood was poor, minority and said to be gentrifying. While there has been improvements in housing conditions, the neighborhood – today (2008) – has, by & large, resisted the so-called gentry and is still, as then, crime ridden and among the poorer census tracts in the city by any measure. All of the above characteristics meant, if you watched your back, it was a great place to be young, single and alive in 1978-80. With 340, the party was always there inside; at 72 – at the Outpost of Humanity – the party was inside and outside.
I lived in between a drug store and a tavern but there was no pharmacist or PLCB regulation, if ya know what I mean. My neighbor to the left was Willie, a product of the turbulent late 60s, who was surviving anyway he could. His product was nickel bags. The smallest size; highest profit margin of marijuana sales. Cars would stop all night long, drop a passenger off, cruise round the block and pick up passenger and packet. The bar was actually a corner store run by Pedro. This is Pennsylvania after all; no legal beer sales were permitted then or now. However, with hours similar to Willie’s, beer, liquor and food, were plentiful at the corner spot.
More to come from the outpost, meanwhile Phil will detail the final evacuation of West King Street and his next abode.
98 days till 340 Club reunion
The neighborhood was poor, minority and said to be gentrifying. While there has been improvements in housing conditions, the neighborhood – today (2008) – has, by & large, resisted the so-called gentry and is still, as then, crime ridden and among the poorer census tracts in the city by any measure. All of the above characteristics meant, if you watched your back, it was a great place to be young, single and alive in 1978-80. With 340, the party was always there inside; at 72 – at the Outpost of Humanity – the party was inside and outside.
I lived in between a drug store and a tavern but there was no pharmacist or PLCB regulation, if ya know what I mean. My neighbor to the left was Willie, a product of the turbulent late 60s, who was surviving anyway he could. His product was nickel bags. The smallest size; highest profit margin of marijuana sales. Cars would stop all night long, drop a passenger off, cruise round the block and pick up passenger and packet. The bar was actually a corner store run by Pedro. This is Pennsylvania after all; no legal beer sales were permitted then or now. However, with hours similar to Willie’s, beer, liquor and food, were plentiful at the corner spot.
More to come from the outpost, meanwhile Phil will detail the final evacuation of West King Street and his next abode.
98 days till 340 Club reunion
Friday, February 29, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
The Democrat Club
Regarding an earlier post,I talked to two "old-timers" today and they said that Club was called simply The Democrat Club, not the Young Demmies or the New Democrat Club. I will gather more info over the weekend. On the other hand ,The "Young Republicans Club" or as it was known locally as the "Young R's" had a rule that you must be under 38 years of age to join,
hence the name. I wish we had the recall of our adventures at the Clubs that these bar-room veterans have.
They also said there was a bar,owned by some Italian fellow, between the Rendezvous and the aforementioned Democrat Club. That one probably pre-dated our West King Street tenure.
hence the name. I wish we had the recall of our adventures at the Clubs that these bar-room veterans have.
They also said there was a bar,owned by some Italian fellow, between the Rendezvous and the aforementioned Democrat Club. That one probably pre-dated our West King Street tenure.
A Tee-Less 340
Tee's departure meant big changes at the 340 Club. His organizational skills had to be replaced. The duties of collecting and paying the rent fell to Mitch. As Tee described him in the previous post,"He wouldn’t be the first you would seek if you needed to borrow a sawbuck or wanted someone to take the rent money to the man".
Unfortunately we soon learned why. The landlord,George Kraztert,called me one day to complain about the rent being overdue. City and I confronted Mitch and asked him why he didn't pay it yet since we had given him the money. He contritely told us he blew the money. Not wanting to risk an eviction I wrote a check out to Mr.Kratzert with Mitch promising that he would repay me.
A few days later the landlord called me again and said my check bounced. Unlike today's banking technology where you can get your up to the minute balance by either phone or a computer, we had to wait for our monthly statement via snail-mail. Granted in those days I might not have been as accurate a record keeper for my finances as I am today but I was confident I had enough in the till to cover the rent.That's when Mr.Kratzert floored me with these words, "Your last check was good but not this one". I protested that he must be confused, that this was the first time I ever used my personal check for rent.He said, "No,You paid last month's rent with a check". I asked him for the check numbers and realized then that he was correct, a check had been stolen.
City L was livid and told Mitch to meet us at Zangari's South. I on the other hand was more forgiving, perhaps realizing the West King Street party was soon going to be over and not wanting it to be, I made Mitch promise to repay me even though in the back of my mind I knew that wasn't going to happen with his irregular work habits.
City wanted me to go the authorities and press charges but I refused. I remember City really giving Mitch a tongue-thrashing and I believe ordered him out of the Club. I would really like to hear his version of these events.
Meanwhile one could almost hear the Search and Rescue "choppers" filling up their gas tanks at the launch pads. The 340 Club Era was about to end.
Unfortunately we soon learned why. The landlord,George Kraztert,called me one day to complain about the rent being overdue. City and I confronted Mitch and asked him why he didn't pay it yet since we had given him the money. He contritely told us he blew the money. Not wanting to risk an eviction I wrote a check out to Mr.Kratzert with Mitch promising that he would repay me.
A few days later the landlord called me again and said my check bounced. Unlike today's banking technology where you can get your up to the minute balance by either phone or a computer, we had to wait for our monthly statement via snail-mail. Granted in those days I might not have been as accurate a record keeper for my finances as I am today but I was confident I had enough in the till to cover the rent.That's when Mr.Kratzert floored me with these words, "Your last check was good but not this one". I protested that he must be confused, that this was the first time I ever used my personal check for rent.He said, "No,You paid last month's rent with a check". I asked him for the check numbers and realized then that he was correct, a check had been stolen.
City L was livid and told Mitch to meet us at Zangari's South. I on the other hand was more forgiving, perhaps realizing the West King Street party was soon going to be over and not wanting it to be, I made Mitch promise to repay me even though in the back of my mind I knew that wasn't going to happen with his irregular work habits.
City wanted me to go the authorities and press charges but I refused. I remember City really giving Mitch a tongue-thrashing and I believe ordered him out of the Club. I would really like to hear his version of these events.
Meanwhile one could almost hear the Search and Rescue "choppers" filling up their gas tanks at the launch pads. The 340 Club Era was about to end.
UPDATE
100 days to go till the reunion. Art Morris has confirmed his hopes to attend the 340 Club reunion on June 7th at the Knights. No word has been received from Intell writer and pollster David Sturm or, the man without whom none of this would have ever happened, the landlord George Hussein Kratzert
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Eve of Destruction
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace,
Hate your next-door-neighbour, but don't forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
Sil had always been there; his departure for “quieter pastures” was an unnoticed harbinger. May & June were great months, constant party; extreme zaniness; harmony amidst mayhem; responsibilities being met. As mentioned in earlier posts the pinnacle of the 340 Club I happened on June 17th when 4 of the five residents and a score of regular partiers descended on the Jersey Shore for a day of rock ‘n roll.
Reality began to sit in with the next day’s hangover. The 340 Club degenerated into a cesspool even by the low bar by which we measured ourselves. Rent became increasingly difficult to collect (that was my job). Sometimes, albeit rarely, tempers flared; which amazingly almost never happened at the Club. Glass shattering vibrations and, worse, structure breaking vibes began to work against the grain of the 340.
First, Kenny left … I think he left because he had to. My memory was he left to go on the road as a trucker; a career which helped get him away from some terrible temptations of food and get high. Kenny would spend the rest of his life veering between great weight extremes (maybe 325 to 175) with rare or little variance in sobriety. He was a good guy; perhaps not well served by me. I know he had friends who tried but Kenny internalized more than we knew. Definitely more than I knew. Kenny’s departure left us with four.
Next it was Mitch’s turn. His departure was another matter. He called me Crazee; I called Phil Crazy; and we both called Mitch Crazy. When one of us addressed the other it was difficult to follow the appellations. Mitch may or may not have been crazy but, like Kenny, he definitely was unbridled of life’s responsibilities and placed the next party or six pack well ahead of tomorrow’s breakfast, lunch or dinner. Although somehow he didn’t miss many of them either. Mitch is/was a great guy; the first you want to go grab a beer; cop some blow or even be intro’d to a hooker. He wouldn’t be the first you would seek if you needed to borrow a sawbuck or wanted someone to take the rent money to the man. Mitch left in mid-summer. Three.
The return of rationality came too late for me; I had already fallen in love with investment prospects of home ownership on the border of Lancaster’s ghetto, the so called Bloody Seventh. I purchased a small two bedroom, one and a half story home on Howard Avenue in Lancaster. I think it might have cost $8,500. In any case by Labor Day I was gone. This left City L and Phil to either recruit another roomie or look for greener pastures.
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace,
Hate your next-door-neighbour, but don't forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.
Sil had always been there; his departure for “quieter pastures” was an unnoticed harbinger. May & June were great months, constant party; extreme zaniness; harmony amidst mayhem; responsibilities being met. As mentioned in earlier posts the pinnacle of the 340 Club I happened on June 17th when 4 of the five residents and a score of regular partiers descended on the Jersey Shore for a day of rock ‘n roll.
Reality began to sit in with the next day’s hangover. The 340 Club degenerated into a cesspool even by the low bar by which we measured ourselves. Rent became increasingly difficult to collect (that was my job). Sometimes, albeit rarely, tempers flared; which amazingly almost never happened at the Club. Glass shattering vibrations and, worse, structure breaking vibes began to work against the grain of the 340.
First, Kenny left … I think he left because he had to. My memory was he left to go on the road as a trucker; a career which helped get him away from some terrible temptations of food and get high. Kenny would spend the rest of his life veering between great weight extremes (maybe 325 to 175) with rare or little variance in sobriety. He was a good guy; perhaps not well served by me. I know he had friends who tried but Kenny internalized more than we knew. Definitely more than I knew. Kenny’s departure left us with four.
Next it was Mitch’s turn. His departure was another matter. He called me Crazee; I called Phil Crazy; and we both called Mitch Crazy. When one of us addressed the other it was difficult to follow the appellations. Mitch may or may not have been crazy but, like Kenny, he definitely was unbridled of life’s responsibilities and placed the next party or six pack well ahead of tomorrow’s breakfast, lunch or dinner. Although somehow he didn’t miss many of them either. Mitch is/was a great guy; the first you want to go grab a beer; cop some blow or even be intro’d to a hooker. He wouldn’t be the first you would seek if you needed to borrow a sawbuck or wanted someone to take the rent money to the man. Mitch left in mid-summer. Three.
The return of rationality came too late for me; I had already fallen in love with investment prospects of home ownership on the border of Lancaster’s ghetto, the so called Bloody Seventh. I purchased a small two bedroom, one and a half story home on Howard Avenue in Lancaster. I think it might have cost $8,500. In any case by Labor Day I was gone. This left City L and Phil to either recruit another roomie or look for greener pastures.
The List: 2nd Quarter, 1978 Update
Phil, perhaps more accurately me & Phil, kept dutiful track of my sexual conquests (the reader may feel free to substitute whatever euphemism with which they feel comfortable except “making love”) up to a some point in 1982. Here is my report, culled from that list, for the 2nd quarter 1978:
I met #37 at the Wonder Bar; we were an item for several years; she was a good quality woman. I met #38 at the Village and we did the nasty in her car on West King; hard to believe she had done time earlier in her life for 3rd degree homicide. I met #39 at Cassidy’s Tavern; her father was one of the regulars; saw her last year at a Barnstormers game. #40 was a 340 Club regular who must have gotten curious; perhaps I was too. Ditto for #41; although Phil sez I made her screw me in order for her to get a ride to see the Stones; I plead ignorant (which can be interpreted in several different ways). Year-To-Date 9; TOTAL 41 (a sad commentary is; while there might have been some lasting friendships among those 41 women; half were one night stands and only one could be remotely called “love”)
From the Poet Laureate
As a tribute to Kenny Giltner, the only departed resident/member of the 340 Club, this week in the Poet Laureate’s corner we feature some of Kenny’s writings. If I was a shrink perhaps I could analyze them for a deeper meaning. Alas, they must speak for themselves. Here they are –
1) Drunk
Drunk 23 hours a day; sleeping 1 hour a day. Disturbing the peace, sleeping in the gutter, public rowdiness.
2) Joe Cool
Rampaging motorcycle through old Lady Murphy’s petunia patch (ask hm why); arrested for loitering at Charlie’s Pizza Palace for refusing to leave after closing. Had to be carried out by sitting in booth (ask him why).
3) untitled
Mr. Albert Ass Hole please approach the bench … 85 in 25 zone count; speeding aggravated assault! Raping your AA; chasing a Little Old Lady Down the street with a vi
Unfortunately that is where the prose ends. Years later, Kenny interrupted a breakfast with his elderly parents, excusing himself saying he would be right back. He descended into the basement and seconds later took his own life with a pistol.
The world was a better place when he was here; and he is in a better place now. God Bless!
1) Drunk
Drunk 23 hours a day; sleeping 1 hour a day. Disturbing the peace, sleeping in the gutter, public rowdiness.
2) Joe Cool
Rampaging motorcycle through old Lady Murphy’s petunia patch (ask hm why); arrested for loitering at Charlie’s Pizza Palace for refusing to leave after closing. Had to be carried out by sitting in booth (ask him why).
3) untitled
Mr. Albert Ass Hole please approach the bench … 85 in 25 zone count; speeding aggravated assault! Raping your AA; chasing a Little Old Lady Down the street with a vi
Unfortunately that is where the prose ends. Years later, Kenny interrupted a breakfast with his elderly parents, excusing himself saying he would be right back. He descended into the basement and seconds later took his own life with a pistol.
The world was a better place when he was here; and he is in a better place now. God Bless!
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The Greatest Day in Rock - Part Three
(Continued from the December posts on the same topic. See 12/17 The Greatest Day in Rock - Parts One and Two. For setlists please refer to those posts.)
I had been to a lot of rock concerts, some spectacular; Watkins Glen & the Poconos quickly come to mind, each with 300,000 or more people and liberal doses of Woodstockian weather; the Dead concert at F & M on Easter Saturday, May Day in DC at the height of Tricky Dick’s power, three Stones shows as well as the pre-328 Rush, KISS, Blue Oyster Cult concert at Lock Haven. Since June 17, 1978, I have been to a dozen more Stones shows and was in a million person crowd in Philly at a multi-continent Live Aid-like concert on the parkway in Philly a couple of years ago. However, I still believe that the apex of my rock experience and, in fact, the apex of the first rendition of the 340 Club occurred on Saturday, June 17th, 1978.
Four of us awoke at 340 that morning and three of us – me, Phil, and Kenny - jumped into three separate vehicles and headed to the Jersey Shore via Philly for an unforgettable 24 hours. We were going to attend a rock concert in JFK Stadium in Philadelphia featuring reggae artist Peter Tosh, Foreigner, and the World’s Greatest Rock ‘n Roll Band. Following that it was going to be on to Mays Landing (I believe), NJ, to a club called Dunes Till Dawn to see our favorite club band – the Bonnie Parker Band.
I jumped into a van driven by Bobby Soders and fellow passengers, Bobby’s lady Pam, Wayne & Cindi Rankin (not sure if they were married at the time), a 16 year old Chris Lake (at least in my memory) and perhaps others. Phil and the aptly nicknamed “Mick” Walton rode with Woody Kleinhaus. Kenny drove Coach Kuhns and Geri Lynn Philips. In addition, at least one other car left under the auspices of the 340 Club as Mike Heller & Barry Moffitt also attended and drove together. There likely were others; we probably numbered 20 or more. Lastly, a 4th 340 Club resident – Crazee Mitch – was a BPB roadie who would have been on the road with that band all weekend.
The Stones show followed by a week the release of Some Girls and featured the touring debut of the crossover cum disco hit Miss You. According to Wyman’s book there were 90,880 fans in attendance in addition to the 340 Club contingent. In the Stones band that tour were Billy Preston, Eddie Money, Bobby Keys and Nicky Hopkins.
After the Dunes Till Dawns Show, literally, when the sun came up the entourage headed home. Woody managed to make it home without incurring the wrath of the NJ State Police which issued a ticket to him on the way down. Kenny and Bobby got us home safely. Sadly the remaining car, the only one without a 340 resident, the Heller-Moffit car was involved in an accident and, I believe, both needed treatment.
This day, this weekend represented the apex of the initial occupation on West King Street. Beginning that Sunday morning, a long slide began that had the Club dark by December.
The Young Demmies
The Forester's Club has been mentioned previously on this blog but there was another private club not far from the 340. It was called "The Young Democrat Club". It was located a few doors up from the Rendezvous west of the city square. How it came to be called by that name must have had something to do with the past because none of the patrons or employees were "young" until we started barging in en masse and at least in my case surely not a "Democrat".
Their most attractive feature was that they stayed open after 2:00 A.M. So when the Village or whatever "gin joint" we closed that evening kicked us out we sometimes headed there.
They had the dirtiest restroom imaginable but that was low priority with the opportunity for a few more "suds" to cap off the night. I don't think they ever made us join their organization and I am sure the beers were reasonably priced being a private club.
I have a vague memory of the Bonnie Parker Band either being there or threatening to show up after they got done at The Village. I seem to remember microphones and a stage so perhaps they did play a song there or at least one of the band members performed,maybe not, its a little fuzzy after all we never went to that club before 2:oo A.M.
So within less than a two block radius from the 340 Club we had two private clubs (The Foresters and the Young Demmies), three bars (Soldern's,Johnny's and Kramers), a laundromat, a church, a pharmacy (Buch's), a dry cleaner (Yorgey's), a convenience store (usually there was one at Mulberry & King), a fine dining establishment (The Rendezvous), another eatery for a short time (The Betwixt and Between), the comforting thought of a firehouse a half block from the Club, an athletic store (Gary's Pro Shop,although he catered to mostly bowlers),a dentist (Dr.Schrader),a jewelry store,some great neighbors and some not-so-great.
All in all what more could you ask for in such a small area. Why would we ever leave ? Tee will get to that as he winds down 1978.
Their most attractive feature was that they stayed open after 2:00 A.M. So when the Village or whatever "gin joint" we closed that evening kicked us out we sometimes headed there.
They had the dirtiest restroom imaginable but that was low priority with the opportunity for a few more "suds" to cap off the night. I don't think they ever made us join their organization and I am sure the beers were reasonably priced being a private club.
I have a vague memory of the Bonnie Parker Band either being there or threatening to show up after they got done at The Village. I seem to remember microphones and a stage so perhaps they did play a song there or at least one of the band members performed,maybe not, its a little fuzzy after all we never went to that club before 2:oo A.M.
So within less than a two block radius from the 340 Club we had two private clubs (The Foresters and the Young Demmies), three bars (Soldern's,Johnny's and Kramers), a laundromat, a church, a pharmacy (Buch's), a dry cleaner (Yorgey's), a convenience store (usually there was one at Mulberry & King), a fine dining establishment (The Rendezvous), another eatery for a short time (The Betwixt and Between), the comforting thought of a firehouse a half block from the Club, an athletic store (Gary's Pro Shop,although he catered to mostly bowlers),a dentist (Dr.Schrader),a jewelry store,some great neighbors and some not-so-great.
All in all what more could you ask for in such a small area. Why would we ever leave ? Tee will get to that as he winds down 1978.
Roster Moves
Just yesterday I exchanged e-mails with Sil endeavoring to fill in the blanks in my memory.
I wrote: Sil - I'm trying to get the order of things straight. As 1978 began (after Dave Petkosh bailed), you, me, Phil and City L were the 340 Club, and then in March or April Mitch Herr moved in between you and Phil. You were gone not long after that and then Kenny joined. That is correct? right? You did live with Mitch for a quick minute but never with Kenny? do you remember why you left? Thanks, Tee
To which, he replied: Tee - My memories are non-existent. I don't even remember Petkosh living there. I can only surmise that I left for quieter pastures. Sil
I suppose too many bananas or salads can be just as detrimental to one’s memory as too many beers. Moderation in all things. Accordingly, I shall go with my best recollection:
After Dave Petkosh left, the 340 Club was once again back to a tight four man crew through the winter. After my birthday with the Club becoming ever more associated with the Bonnie Parker Band and their zany fans and roadies I invited Mitch Herr, the group’s chief gopher and do it all roadie (and also the bartender at one of the two remaining strip joints in the city), to move in to 340 West King Street.
Now, no offense intended, but Mitch didn’t use the same deodorant as the rest of us (if ya know what I mean) and, perhaps, just maybe, that might have had something to do with Sil’s loosing memory and maybe more than a little to do with his moving out. For after 44 months of being my roomie during the entire existence of the 328/340 Club, Sil had moved on. In addition, Mitch upped the insanity quotient just a tad. Before him it was three relatively normal guys – Sil, Phil, and City L – and one madman conveniently isolated up on the 3rd floor. Now, with Crazee Mitch the IQ (Insanity Quotient) was perhaps at a volatile level. It would get crazier before it would get better.
When Sil left in May; I (Phil may deserve some of the credit for Mitch & Kenny also but I feel that their entry as residents, as opposed to regulars, was more my doing) invited Kenny Giltner to replace him. If there was a question about the IQ before this; no normal person or certified shrink could miss the situation now. Abnormality was now the majority. Poor Phil (who rode well with the punches) and City L (who had it a little rougher, IMHO) were definitely outnumbered by the Crazies. Further, unlike me who somehow punched a 9 to 5 clock everyday (or most days) at City Hall, neither Kenny nor Mitch were bound to any responsible schedule so I was sort of the fulcrum rather than part of the full tilt crazies.
So it was as the 340 Club lurched into the summer of 1978; expectations of making the next morning were slim; there was absolutely no fucking chance of celebrating the New Year in these quarters.
Quieter pastures indeed; pass the joint; bring me another beer!
I wrote: Sil - I'm trying to get the order of things straight. As 1978 began (after Dave Petkosh bailed), you, me, Phil and City L were the 340 Club, and then in March or April Mitch Herr moved in between you and Phil. You were gone not long after that and then Kenny joined. That is correct? right? You did live with Mitch for a quick minute but never with Kenny? do you remember why you left? Thanks, Tee
To which, he replied: Tee - My memories are non-existent. I don't even remember Petkosh living there. I can only surmise that I left for quieter pastures. Sil
I suppose too many bananas or salads can be just as detrimental to one’s memory as too many beers. Moderation in all things. Accordingly, I shall go with my best recollection:
After Dave Petkosh left, the 340 Club was once again back to a tight four man crew through the winter. After my birthday with the Club becoming ever more associated with the Bonnie Parker Band and their zany fans and roadies I invited Mitch Herr, the group’s chief gopher and do it all roadie (and also the bartender at one of the two remaining strip joints in the city), to move in to 340 West King Street.
Now, no offense intended, but Mitch didn’t use the same deodorant as the rest of us (if ya know what I mean) and, perhaps, just maybe, that might have had something to do with Sil’s loosing memory and maybe more than a little to do with his moving out. For after 44 months of being my roomie during the entire existence of the 328/340 Club, Sil had moved on. In addition, Mitch upped the insanity quotient just a tad. Before him it was three relatively normal guys – Sil, Phil, and City L – and one madman conveniently isolated up on the 3rd floor. Now, with Crazee Mitch the IQ (Insanity Quotient) was perhaps at a volatile level. It would get crazier before it would get better.
When Sil left in May; I (Phil may deserve some of the credit for Mitch & Kenny also but I feel that their entry as residents, as opposed to regulars, was more my doing) invited Kenny Giltner to replace him. If there was a question about the IQ before this; no normal person or certified shrink could miss the situation now. Abnormality was now the majority. Poor Phil (who rode well with the punches) and City L (who had it a little rougher, IMHO) were definitely outnumbered by the Crazies. Further, unlike me who somehow punched a 9 to 5 clock everyday (or most days) at City Hall, neither Kenny nor Mitch were bound to any responsible schedule so I was sort of the fulcrum rather than part of the full tilt crazies.
So it was as the 340 Club lurched into the summer of 1978; expectations of making the next morning were slim; there was absolutely no fucking chance of celebrating the New Year in these quarters.
Quieter pastures indeed; pass the joint; bring me another beer!
Monday, February 25, 2008
Curator's Corner: More from George
Thanks Phil (for scanning and uploading the March 24, 1978 letter from the landlord as I could not get my scanner to work; nor my borrowed camera). The letter indeed is a reaction to a party, likely held March 3 or 4 or 10 or 11, 1978, which was apparently quite a bash seemingly involving both the 340 Club (me, Phil, Sil, and City L) and the 338 Club (Bob Koenig, his Rotweiler, a couple of other biker roomies, and Dotty his girlfriend). Mr. Kratzert was the landlord of both buildings and a neighbor (or perhaps a fellow landlord who owned 342-344), a Mrs. Betty Garman, had complained about what she saw as outlandish behavior.
The party marked my earliest memory of my meeting my future roomie at 340 and at 72 Howard Avenue, Randy Brown. It also apparently necessitated a visit from the police as previously outlined. Alas, the party with its highs and lows, brawls and lascivious behavior, and finally the police visit, apparently was a harbinger of the next few months at 340 which would prove to be a rollercoaster of euphoric/exhilerating highs and damnable lows and ultimately the demise of the 340 Club. Just like with Christianity; without the crucifixtion there can be no second coming or lasting religion. I don't mean to making Randy into a prophet but he's been called worse.
Now, as for the letter ... it truly is a classic. (No offense meant to you Mr. Kratzert but) I always thought us Millersville men were every bit the equal of those F & Mers and if Mr. Kratzert's letter was at all typical of his fellow Diplomat alumni than my thoughts were vindicated.
The letter is addressed to me, Sil and Phil and is written because of a complaint ...regarding the conduct of you people (sic) and your friends (that means you, the readers and attendees) at 338 and 340 West KIng Street (that, of course, refers to the 340 Club). The specifics cannot be denied and they included:
1) large number of people going in and out [of the 340 Club] carrying ... substantial quanity of beer and liquor
2) all night parties ... starting sometimes as late or early, depends on which way you look at it as 2:00 a.m. in the morning (an F & M redundancy) and lasting until daylight. (It almost seems like he or Mrs. Garman attended the affair).
3) (Here is some classic syntax) Fighting on the property which I understand resulted in the necessity to call the police and one young women (sic) was hauled off while after being cut as the result of being hit by a beer mug.
4) using alleyways, on both sides, as pisserias (my word not his)
5) In summary, just a very general complaint of extreme disorganized (I take offense at that as I always strived for organization) and general misconduct on the property.
Well, that was it ... sounds like good clean fun to me ... perhaps the kind of fune we shoulda got out of system five years earlier like most ... but who was the worse for it. Heck, Randy & I put a bit of a hurt on the City of Harrisburg just last weekend and we all survived.
The best part of the letter, I suppose, was George closing with a nice friendly salutation - "Sincerly" - rather than "Angrily" or "Miffed" or "Pissed". Further, but I get ahead of myself, when Phil & I once again needed a place to stay just three years later; George saw fit to rent to us again so we couldn't of been that bad ... now could we. ;)
The party marked my earliest memory of my meeting my future roomie at 340 and at 72 Howard Avenue, Randy Brown. It also apparently necessitated a visit from the police as previously outlined. Alas, the party with its highs and lows, brawls and lascivious behavior, and finally the police visit, apparently was a harbinger of the next few months at 340 which would prove to be a rollercoaster of euphoric/exhilerating highs and damnable lows and ultimately the demise of the 340 Club. Just like with Christianity; without the crucifixtion there can be no second coming or lasting religion. I don't mean to making Randy into a prophet but he's been called worse.
Now, as for the letter ... it truly is a classic. (No offense meant to you Mr. Kratzert but) I always thought us Millersville men were every bit the equal of those F & Mers and if Mr. Kratzert's letter was at all typical of his fellow Diplomat alumni than my thoughts were vindicated.
The letter is addressed to me, Sil and Phil and is written because of a complaint ...regarding the conduct of you people (sic) and your friends (that means you, the readers and attendees) at 338 and 340 West KIng Street (that, of course, refers to the 340 Club). The specifics cannot be denied and they included:
1) large number of people going in and out [of the 340 Club] carrying ... substantial quanity of beer and liquor
2) all night parties ... starting sometimes as late or early, depends on which way you look at it as 2:00 a.m. in the morning (an F & M redundancy) and lasting until daylight. (It almost seems like he or Mrs. Garman attended the affair).
3) (Here is some classic syntax) Fighting on the property which I understand resulted in the necessity to call the police and one young women (sic) was hauled off while after being cut as the result of being hit by a beer mug.
4) using alleyways, on both sides, as pisserias (my word not his)
5) In summary, just a very general complaint of extreme disorganized (I take offense at that as I always strived for organization) and general misconduct on the property.
Well, that was it ... sounds like good clean fun to me ... perhaps the kind of fune we shoulda got out of system five years earlier like most ... but who was the worse for it. Heck, Randy & I put a bit of a hurt on the City of Harrisburg just last weekend and we all survived.
The best part of the letter, I suppose, was George closing with a nice friendly salutation - "Sincerly" - rather than "Angrily" or "Miffed" or "Pissed". Further, but I get ahead of myself, when Phil & I once again needed a place to stay just three years later; George saw fit to rent to us again so we couldn't of been that bad ... now could we. ;)
Curator's Corner
This was the two page letter from our 340 Club landlord, George Kratzert. It is dated March 24th,1978. It came on the heels of the events that transpired in Tee's earlier post titled "Randallion".
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Saint Patrick's 1978
While I know it was memorable … one didn’t walk the pubs on the feast day with Accu Jack Kelly and not have it memorable …. I do not remember it. It was a Friday and I believe I made this an all-day crawl as opposed to working half day like the present. I know I wrapped it up down in the King Street valley (i.e. Johnny/s, Soldner’s, Kramer’s) or the Manor Street valley (Luckee’s, Bate’s) and I believe Jack, Mike Hauck and I likely visited Phil at Zangari South (if so, it would have been the first time the South had appeared on the traditional walk). I know I didn’t get laid. I know I didn’t come downstairs on the 18th until afternoon.
This year’s crawl begins at 2:00 p.m. at Garrason’s Tavern in Harrisburg, PA … 16 bars, 24 beers are on the schedule … drop me an e-mail … consider participating in this, the 37th annual, Saint Patrick’s Day Pub Crawl … oh yeah, it’s me birthday.
This year’s crawl begins at 2:00 p.m. at Garrason’s Tavern in Harrisburg, PA … 16 bars, 24 beers are on the schedule … drop me an e-mail … consider participating in this, the 37th annual, Saint Patrick’s Day Pub Crawl … oh yeah, it’s me birthday.
Trivia 51-55
There will be some trivia questions posed at the reunion in June. To help you prep for such an event from time to time questions will be posed here in the Blog so you can revive some old memories and rev up your response time. To that end here are a few questions:
THIS WEEK'S QUESTIONS:
51.Who once slept on a couch one saturday evening,that was deposited in the front of the 340 Club, appalling passerby's heading to the nearby church on sunday morning ?
52 Our neighbors, the DiEugenio's across the street from the Club had five children but only one daughter, what was her name ?
53.What was the nickname of 338 resident Robert Koenig ?
54.What was the name of his Rottweiler ?
55.Born John Edwin Walton, this 340 member was called "Jackie" by his folks,"Good Bud" by Tee and "Mick" by most of his friends but what sobriquet did 328-er R.E.Lichty christen him with ?
Last Weeks Q & A's
46. What date was shared as a birthday by what two 340 Clubbers? Phil Zangari, the Captain, was born on July 7, 1950. One year later, Dick Lichty aka RE, was born on July, 1951.
47. Name the two main men at the Rendezvous Steak Shop. Bonus points for as many staffers as you can name. The two main men, in my (Tee’s) opinion, were Larry Terrell and ??? Goberman (I forget his first name); other employees included Fred Blaebaum, Leroy, JJ, and others.
48. Name the Father & Son duo that ran Johnny’s Tavern? John (i.e. Johnny) was the father and nighttime bartender during the 70s; his son Pete continues to run the bar today.
49. What owner changed the name of the Royal House to the Golden Eagle? Who was his bartender? Bill Harris was the owner; R.E. Lichty was the bartender trying to recapture the Cassidy’s magic.
50. During 340 Club days if you were at the Rendezvous and were drinking a beer … were you on East King or West King? As Sil deduced, it was somewhat of a trick question. The Rendezvous Steak Shop had no beer license during the 340 Club era. However, the Rendezvous Coffee Shop/Restaurant at Watt & Shand’s did. It was a mainstay stop on St. Patrick’s Day or during Christmas shopping sprees with Linda Dombach.
THIS WEEK'S QUESTIONS:
51.Who once slept on a couch one saturday evening,that was deposited in the front of the 340 Club, appalling passerby's heading to the nearby church on sunday morning ?
52 Our neighbors, the DiEugenio's across the street from the Club had five children but only one daughter, what was her name ?
53.What was the nickname of 338 resident Robert Koenig ?
54.What was the name of his Rottweiler ?
55.Born John Edwin Walton, this 340 member was called "Jackie" by his folks,"Good Bud" by Tee and "Mick" by most of his friends but what sobriquet did 328-er R.E.Lichty christen him with ?
Last Weeks Q & A's
46. What date was shared as a birthday by what two 340 Clubbers? Phil Zangari, the Captain, was born on July 7, 1950. One year later, Dick Lichty aka RE, was born on July, 1951.
47. Name the two main men at the Rendezvous Steak Shop. Bonus points for as many staffers as you can name. The two main men, in my (Tee’s) opinion, were Larry Terrell and ??? Goberman (I forget his first name); other employees included Fred Blaebaum, Leroy, JJ, and others.
48. Name the Father & Son duo that ran Johnny’s Tavern? John (i.e. Johnny) was the father and nighttime bartender during the 70s; his son Pete continues to run the bar today.
49. What owner changed the name of the Royal House to the Golden Eagle? Who was his bartender? Bill Harris was the owner; R.E. Lichty was the bartender trying to recapture the Cassidy’s magic.
50. During 340 Club days if you were at the Rendezvous and were drinking a beer … were you on East King or West King? As Sil deduced, it was somewhat of a trick question. The Rendezvous Steak Shop had no beer license during the 340 Club era. However, the Rendezvous Coffee Shop/Restaurant at Watt & Shand’s did. It was a mainstay stop on St. Patrick’s Day or during Christmas shopping sprees with Linda Dombach.
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