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Been livin Music since I can remember...still travelin to where ever the Music takes me... Have met and interacted with a lot of interesting, great and not so great people... Been blessed to perform, write and produce with some very talented and special artists... I’m currently traveling around Europe with my beautiful, talented wife while she does her thing, singing and dancing in Musicals. It’s a far cry from Reggae or Rock but interesting none the less...Art is art, some is great and much of it sucks, but hell, that’s just my opinion...As i write this we are in beautiful Zurich, Switzerland...man, the chocolate is really good here!! I’ve also been blessed to have two beautiful children. Both witty and smart...you can check them out in my friends...Ru-ster and Go D Go....my son Dan is killin em with his band HorseShoes n Hand Grenades..check em out...my daughter Rudie, she’s in school workin her ass off, just one of the coolest people I know... To my Musical credit I’m still kikn around...you can check out TESSANNE CHIN. I’m very proud of our relationship and the Music that has spawned from it, she continues to be an inspiration and world talent. The Music we make together is some of my proudest stuff. You can see me this year, 2008, runnin around America with my boys FEAR NUTTIN BAND. Great friends that make some of the coolest unique Music north of Kingston, Jamaica, my home town...not really, I’m from Rochester NY where my boy Ron Stackman continues to make great Music at Big Lawn... and even though I reside in Hamburg, Germany, I consider Jamaica my home....sunshine, natural food, beautiful beaches, herb and when you’re in country and at one with Jah you feel Peace like no place else, at least for me that is.... Peace, funny word these days with many meanings....A lot like the word Freedom, doesnt seem to have the same definition as it used to.... Stefan Zweig wrote... Peace is not a thing of weakness, It calls for heroism and action. Day by day you must wrest it from the mouths of liars. You must stand alone against the multitude, for clamor is always on the side of the many, and the liar has ever the first word. The meek must be strong.

The List: 1981 (Part 1)

Sixty-seven young women entered 1981 with me on their list. As I implied earlier I’ve always refered to 1981 as the “Summer of Love.” Admittedly making love, especially in my case, was a very poor euphemism for engaging in sexual intercourse but I don’t think those 100,000 hippies in ’67 were any more authentic in their summer of “making love, not war.” In any case and for what its worth, I present the list for the first half of 1981:

#69 was certainly risky business cuz she dated one of my superiors at City Hall; #71 stood out due to her age which I would estimate as, maybe, 49 … I was just with her brother – now 70 – in Lancaster last weekend … she lived in Brooklyn when I knew her and has now returned to her roots in the south; #72 is memorable because of the way Woody Kleinhaus described the way me and her looked – to him at least – upon seeing us sitting on the couch when he entered early one morning, we were holding hands and her beautiful ebony complexion, in contrast to my fingers caused him to comment – “I thought I was looking at piano keys”; #73 was the daughter of an Olympic immortal; #74 was The Rose (more in a future post); interestingly #75 was treated to her requisite foreplay at Sleepy Hollow, legendary home of Brian Smith; #76 was the sister of an ABA/NBA All-Star (more in a future post).

So, as we made the pivot of the year at the 340 Club I was halfway through my personal Summer of Love.

340 Club Reunion - 10 weeks out

Okay, gang … we are in the stretch run. The Reunion is only 70 days away. Here is the game plan:

June 6, 2008 – Bridgeport Bluefish visit Clipper Stadium to take on the home standing Lancaster Barnstormers in an Atlantic League baseball game. It is Scout Night and the first 2500 fans will get free Barnstormer visors courtesy of Central Penn Nursing. Tickets are $27 for the picnic/game or for game only $6, $9, and $11 with a dollar discount if purchased early.

June 7, 2008 – Reunion @ Knights of Columbus, 7:00 p.m., Tickets are $20. Here is the lineup for the biggest party in Lancaster since the fall of 1983:

Welcome by Young Ted Knorr, Emcee
Invocation by the Reverend Peter I. Hahn, Pastor, St. Peter’s, Columbia, PA
Moment of Silence for Departed 340 Club Members by Phil Zangari, Captain & Asst. Emcee
Keynote Komments offered by Mayor Arthur E. Morris (invited but not confirmed)
Other Komments for Good of the Order
New Poem from the Poet Laureate, Christopher E. Joyce (tentative)
From the Mighty 340 Club Juke Box, DJ Randy Brown

Features: free beer & munchies, dancing, raffles, new “official” 340 Club cards, commemorative souvenir program, souvenir button and more; additional buttons and tee shirts will be available, a PowerPoint Presentation & Archival 340 Club Exhibits will be on display.

Juke Box Lens: McMorial Day through July 31st at Midnight

The record set at the McMorial Day affair lasted for almost 6 weeks until the nation celebrated its 205th birthday and the 340 Club celebrated 7 years – albeit interrupted – on West King Street. On Friday, July 3rd, we had a major party that found the juke’s coffers overflowing with $20.17 (12:06). This record stood for just over a week; the next one - set July 11th - stands to this day. After the Friday night blowout (NOTE: to get to 12 hours it had to be non-stop music … remember it was a Friday, I worked till 5… the juke box had to either begin to rock at 4 and continue non-stop till 4 or begin earlier; no matter how you sliced it this was a bonafide 340) it is understandable if we were somewhat calm on Independence Day … perhaps we slept till Sunday or spent the holiday with our families. Or simply gave the juke a rest.

After such rest, the gang and the juke woke up on July 11th full of vim & vigor. It was a big big day. For July 11, 1981 was F.A.D.! Just as most baseball teams reward their fans with a special day at the end of the season, Phil & I thought that having a Fan Appreciation Day would be a good idea. Phil and I took $35.52 ($72 in 2008 dollars) from the juke box revenues and bought a ½ keg of Pabst, some potato chips and I forget and invited the usual gang of idiots to a 340 where they managed somehow, I truly can’t fathom, to jam $20.40 into the juke box. Since this is the last such record ever sent; permit me to provide some perspective. Humans sleep eight hours a day leaving 16 hours each day to fill with writing a novel, reading the newspaper, saving the world or playing juke box music. Well, on F.A.D. the mighty 340 Club juke box was playing rock ‘n roll for 12 hours and 15 minutes or 77% of those 16 waking hours. I guess that explains why none of us saved the world that day.

To summarize, in the 121 days between April 3rd (i.e. Opening Day) and August 1st the juke box had taken in $478.22 or $3.95 per day. This meant that, on average, the juke box had played for 2:22 daily. That is 10% of each day. In total, of that 17 week mad period; the mighty 340 Club juke box had played for almost 12 full days! If I could sum up the 340 Club experience in one statistic that just might be the one.

However, while no one saw it coming the clock was literally about to strike midnight for the mighty 340 Club juke box.

From the Mighty 340 Juke Box

At the reunion all songs played will come from the 340 juke and are scheduled to be spun by none other than the one and only front men of the current hip group starring every Wednesday at the former Zimmerman's Resturaunt and 340 Club resident/member Randy Brown. Tonight I present several versions of a unique British invasion hit:

Happy Birthday Mitch!!!!!!!!

340 Club resident and member Mitch Herr is 56 today! Saw him at the Sharks last Saturday and he remains as constant as the speed of light. Hopefully he will find a way through his busy schedule to make it to the reunion on June 7th at the Knights. God bless you Mitchell! Many more Crazee!

The Summer of Love

Ask most Americans where in the Time-Space Continuum one would find the Summer of Love and most folks my age or older will quickly say 1967/Haight-Ashbury, San Francisco, CA where an unprecedented gathering of as many as 100,000 young people converged to create a phenomenon of cultural and political rebellion. For me, it came a little later on the Time axis and about 3,000 miles further east on the geographic line at the time/space crossroad of 1967/340 Club, Lancaster, PA.

Was Tee the Bi-Polar One?

When the second coming became a reality I presented Phil, Randy & John with copies of the landlord’s critical 1978 letter, pertinent parts of the City’s reactionary (to the first 340 Club) noise ordinance and basically endeavored to set a tone of behavior befitting a 30 year old City official (me) and his roommates.

By the next month I was back to fomenting parties, carousing, and chasing skirts. Then the juke box entered the picture and the decibels were ramped up even further. With the juke box a fixture, the next venture was the 340 Club card. After Phil & I designed the cards I went to Barlain Printing on May 26th to order them. I gave him the prototype, opted for round cornered cards, selected buff as the color, and proceeded to order and pay for 100 cards. $22.65 for 100 cards, $9.00 to set type and $1.90 in tax for a total cost of $33.55.

The very next day I had flipped again as I sent a message to not only Phil, Randy and John but other members. In this missal, I riled against two items: 1) debris in common areas, clutter/filth in refrigerator, sticky kitchen floor, filthy carpet, bastards spending the night, trash buildup, kitchen/bathroom crud, mother fuckers knocking on the door 24/7, extreme noise and et cetera; and 2) rock ‘n roll (sic) rehearsals in the basement (Quote: “This does not mean we can’t have a party with a live band, but it means I do not want daily; semi-daily, or even weekend only practice of rock ‘n roll (sic) in my house.”).

The next day my mood swung back as the 340 Club cards were ready and picked up. Now, with the juke and now membership cards in place, using the caricature drawn by artist Bot Roda, about 80 or so 340 Club tee shirts were ordered.

Juke Box Lens: 5/2-24/81

As previously noted, the 340 Club, on any given weekend night, was either a raucous party (50%) or a very raucous party (50%) . [NOTE: Between the juke’s debut April 3rd and McMorial Day, there were seven weekend nights with 6 or more hours of juke box playing; 7 with less than that and two spent in Leominster, MA]. McMemorial Day weekend was early that year and two extraordinary juke box nights were enjoyed – Friday ($12.30) was a big night but Saturday saw another record set with $18.10 in the juke box. That represented almost 11 hours of paid music. I must point out that there was a freebie button that Phil & I never hesitated to hit when the spirit moved us. If the party ended at 4 am, it must have had its early moments before five o’clock. Of the ten year period of occupation on West King Street; for me this period (Spring/Summer 1981) is the pinnacle. In fact, while we weren’t quite there yet, the precise pinnacle was fast approaching.

Thunderbird Motor Lodge

The tournament was over. We were packing the vehicles in the caravan. A younger team, also from Lancaster, was scandalously prancing around in the parking lot. Me – and my roommates Coach, young Chuckie Dailey, and maybe the Gilt – were still engaged in partying. The atmosphere was festive and, despite the earlier than desired elimination of the team, spirits were up and other spirits were being consumed. For some reason (maybe the rising of the sun?) I took it upon myself, egged on by young Master Dailey and surely Kenny, to destroy the desk that was in my room. You know the desk that is in between the two beds where the phone, the lamp, and the Gideon Bible can be found. I threw it, struck it, broke it, hammered it. Again, why? I dunno. I was 30 years old and not drunk; perhaps severely altered. In any case I continued until there were no pieces of the cheap balsa wood materials bigger than a couple of inches. It was destroyed.

Now, the second part of the fun began … reconstruction. I put it all back together. Now it wouldn’t hold a feather beyond the phone, the lamp and the Gideon Bible but it held those and to all appearances it was like new. Of course as soon as we departed and a maid applied a duster it certainly collapsed like a house of cards. No, there were no pieces as large as a playing card. The demolition might have been immature; the reconstruction was a master piece.

We headed home.

APOLOGY AND REPARATIONS

On Tuesday, May 12, 1981, after Phil, the Captain, received a phone call from the Thunderbird Motor Lodge I began to repair relations with Phil and the street hockey team which I had disgraced. It was pretty tuff to disgrace that motley crew but I had managed to accomplish the task.

I wrote the following letter to the Thunderbird:

Dear Sir:

I wish to apologize on behalf of myself and my two companions for our behavior on May 9, 1981 which resulted in the demolition of a desk. Enclosed please find a money order in the amount of $60 as partial payment for damages to the desk. I will attempt to have the balance paid off in a timely fashion.

Sincerely,

Ted Knorr

cc: Don Kuhns, Chuck Dailey

Don Kuhns was coach and other than providing some contraband and other encouragement had nothing to do with the vandalism. Chuck Daily was 18 tops and likely younger so he was, although a more significant contributor, also innocent. This was my job.

I scrolled the following note to Phil on his copy of the note sent to the motel:

Dear Philip,

I hope the above apology & reparations (with Coach’s + Chuck’s contribution) settles the issue. The Thunderbird is aware that the three of us were not members of the Chestnut Street Hockey Team. Further, I wish to apologize to each of you for jeopardizing your future participation in ASHI tournaments. Finally, not as an excuse but as a statement of fact, let me say that I simply could not handle the extremely volatile combination of drugs + booze present in Room 110. I will try to have better self control in the future. See you in Jersey.

Sincerely,
Theo

P.S. It was a marvelous reconstruction job on Sunday morning though wasn’t it.
A few weeks later, Coach sent Phil the following:

Phil – enclosed is a check for $34.00 for damages at motel. $24.00 (1/5 of $120) is what I feel my obligation is and $10.00 for your appeasement. Peace, “Coach”

I purchased another money order for $30 and sent Coach’s check along with it to cover the remaining debt. I made the next trip to a tourney in New Jersey where instead of destroying property I became close friends with, if only for a night, #76.

Animal House as a Permanent Reality

I lived with my parents until I was 23 years old when I moved into the 328 Club in September 1974. From that point forward, for the next 15 years, until the death of my mother and subsequent move back to my parent’s house – now my house – I lived in an atmosphere that could only be described as National Lampoon’s Animal House.

May 8-9, 1981 Leominster, Massechusetts

PREFACE: Let’s be honest, 27 years and way too many beers makes memories very blurry if existent at all with regard to specific incidents. Thank God for juke box records and other papers that exist in the archives. Today’s incident is documented, albeit after the fact by a few days, in preserved correspondences and receipts. So, without further adieu –

Phil has mentioned, albeit too humbly, the greatness of his street hockey team – Chestnut Street. Now, it was a team, he was Captain; it was an institution, he was a player before the team was great and long after he was great. By 1981, in fact, at 31, Phil was no longer All-Lancaster Recreation Commission caliber nor was Chestnut Street (16-4, 2nd place that season) the premier local team. However, in their heyday, say, 1977-80 or so, they were not just a local power but a State and a regional champ and a contender each May at Nationals. While they never made National finals; I’m certain they made quarters on more than occassion.

It was with those intentions that 25 or so of us, including the 15-18 players, headed north to Nationals in Leominster, MA on the morning of May 8, 1981. We piled into, maybe 7 vehicles, loaded with sticks, pucks, munchies, luggage and beaucoup adult beverages. No wonder the juke box showed no income that weekend.

It was my 2nd or 3rd (and final) trip to Nationals with the team. The players, by and large, did not let game responsibilities get in the way of good clean fun. I, with no such responsibilities, definitely did not. As I recall such tournaments, Friday night was a great meal, full of camaraderie, cheer, good food, fellowship and beer. Memorable in its own right; not to be missed, somewhat formal, sports jackets sans tie, and good steaks. The Saturday games – being part of a 32 team tourney – typically presented no real challenge although that was not always the case.

Saturday offered two games; the first in the morning against a lesser team that would result in a blow out win and then a second against another team that had lost their morning game a bigger blowout particularly after Friday night’s inhibitors wore off. The 16 teams that won afternoon games were ranked based on record/margin and scheduled to play a potentially grueling (up to four game) single elimination tourney on Sunday. Saturday night’s drinking was usually a little more subdued. (I may have the first class meal mixed up; it might have been Saturday not Friday). I’m pretty certain that less beer was consumed Saturday then Friday. Sunday’s schedule was obviously tougher. My recollection is that Chestnut Street usually won its opener but probably lost game two more often than not.

I have absolutely no memory of how the team did in ’81. I know they were not the same team as in the prior few years. I have less memory of the Friday and Saturday night antics; I do – unfortunately – have a nagging guilty feeling regarding the Sunday morning (or afternoon) pre-departure episode. I will save that for Part II.

From the Poet Laureate

The following note and brief poem were both written by Christopher E. Joyce:

Dear Editor

The following is a poem composed describing the play of Phil the Thrill, feel free to use this poetic masterpiece.

(unsigned)

When on the court you sense his case
A master of the orange round pill
They come in groups of two's and three's
To see things few others ever will
They always go away well pleased
For Phil the thrill plays like a mil(lion)

Christopher E. Joyce
PEN NAME: The Black Fox

Through the lens of the Juke Box: April 19-May 1, 1981

The Juke Box arrived on April 3rd and that evening, as well as the following Sunday and both nights of Easter weekend a fortnight later, the take was in excess of $10.00 meaning the juke box was making noise in excess of six hours. There are many bars that don’t take in $10 ($22 in 2008 dollars) per day from their juke boxes.

On April 4, 10, 11 and 24th the juke box grossed less than $10 … this accounting provides a glimpse of life at 340 at least for the month of April 1981 … 42% of these seminal weekend nights were totally off the hook and 58% were something less than that … make no mistake, however, even when quiet the 340 was crazier than your normal frat house … keep in mind Randy lived there … to this day the Randallion Cat remains both a babe magnet and happening waiting to happen

This brings us to Saturday, April 25th, 1981 … in order to commemorate the act that all good Amerikans were expected to perform at 2 am … we threw a party … Daylight Savings Time Party! Chi-Ching, Chi-Ching! The juke box gross of $12.10 which had stood for three weeks and a day was shattered before the clocks sprung forward … when I awoke the next morning (afternoon?) I found $15.80 in the juke box; 30% higher than the previous record.

One week later there was another excuse for a party. In order to demonstrate solidarity, we threw a May Day bash – Chi-Ching, Chi-Ching … a new record with $16.30 (or 9 hours, 47 minutes) in the bowels of the juke. Assuming a party ended at 4:00 a.m., not a bad assumption, it would have had to begin at 6:13 p.m. if the music was continuous! Earlier if the music – more likely – was not continuous. In other words these were “mothers of all parties” and we had them twice every weekend.

340 Club Connection

There is always, well maybe not always but often and more often than you would think, a 340 Club connection. I went to the dentist this morning in Lancaster out on Good Drive in East Hempfield Township. I have been going to the same dentist for almost 50 years. However, young Dr. Michael Schreder hasn’t always been the dentist assigned to me. It originally – back in ’58 or early ’59 – was his uncle, Dr. Albert Schreder. And the office wasn’t always in the suburbs. It used to be located in the 300 block of West King Street. Here is a picture (taken recently by Phil) of the former site of Dr. Schreder’s.

This Date in 340 Club History - Happy Birthday Sheryl Zangari

In 1982 we celebrated your birthday – which of course is today; Happy Birthday! – on March 19th with a major 340. It turned out to be the last two digit night ($14.70 or 8 hours, 49 minutes worth of music) for the juke box ever (or at least in recorded history). Sorry to not see you last weekend at The Sharks; I look forward to seeing you at the 340 Club reunion on June 7th.

Coupla Current Day Drunks - II

Saturday, March 22, 2008 – On to Lancaster see The Sharks. Checked in at the Brunswick (Two Stars and ranked 28th of 36 hotels on Travelocity’s list and over rated it turned out). No hot water, clock unplugged, no phone and the TV clicker didn’t work. After complaining about those four issues, they explained how to make the phone & hot water work and gave me a new clicker. I was back downstairs in a flash as the only item that worked was the clock that I plugged in. On to the new room – clicker works, hot water works, phone works, and so did the clock AFTER I HAD TO PLUG IT IN!!!

Warm up beers at the House of Pizza a rowdy bar on Chestnut Street. I assumed since the new police station was built right next to it that it would have cleaned up its act. Next thing you know a woman was getting thrown out – unfortunately it was the woman who had just bought me two beers and a pitcher. Oh well. Bye hon. An old biker friend bought me a beer also and I bought one for myself (and a mixed drink for him). His name was J.W. Murphy and he was an hombre in his day. The only other person that I knew in there was Lancaster’s version of Calobe Jackson, octogenarian City Council President Nelson Polite.

After making sure my drunken lady friend got to her car safely – I offered to drive her home but she maintained she was fine – I strolled through the outline of the now demolished Buchanan Lounge, an old topless bar in the 340 era, and through the parking lot and into – after I think a $12 cover – Lancaster’s oldest nite club: The Village.

As I entered the club my eyes first caught an old guy in a wheelchair. Only one leg; as a diabetic it was a message to me. It turned out to be a stronger message when I recognized the old man – it was Mitch; a 340 Club resident in the end times of the first rendition. Phil & I wondered about his whereabouts and there he was big as life (big as one can be in a wheel chair), drinking, smoking, screaming: “CRAZEE.” That was one of his nicknames for me and one of mine for him as I responded in kind: CRAZEE.” It was good to see him; it was sad to see him in such a state. He is on dialysis twice a week and will lose his second leg if not his life first. However, as an old Sharks roadie the reaper wouldn’t be getting him tonight, and he continued to drink and smoke (a pack a day). Sadly, he had not heard about Kenny, the only 340 Club resident no longer with us (suicide) and Mitch asked about Phil, Seal (the way he pronounced Sil), the guy who took the air baths (that’d be Chris), and lastly the guy who grew the buds (City L apparently had some horticulture going on that I wasn’t too aware of). Sam Lugar, of the Sharks, acknowledged Mitch from stage and everybody gave him much love. I’m quite certain the reaper will be delayed by several months whenever the Lord sends him just because of this night. Mitch stayed for a set.

The next maniac to greet me was the King of the Abby table – Ralphie Baker. “Tee, Tee, good to see you; Phil said you’d be here”. I don’t know if Ralph ever did speed or still does but I do know he never needed it. Ralphie is always revved and tonight he was wound as much as I had ever seen him. After all it was 10 o’clock and two sets of rock ‘n roll loomed ahead of us. I grabbed a beer from the always friendly and professional Gus Photis and dashed after Ralph.

Around the bar we went in search of cheeseburgers; alas, they are no longer sold at the Village they were the best burgers outside of Speed’s in Lancaster in the day (they are matched, today, in Harrisburg by the Jackson House). [btw, we bee bloggin’ now]. While the cheeseburgers were gone the next landmark wasn’t – there she stood taking orders, giving orders, always smiling – Bobbie. Our favorite waitress, now seventy, was still on the job. After a complete circum navigation of the bar, Ralph brought me to where Chip Ream, a good friend and longtime and current Shark roadie, used to be standing (before our manic trip around the bar). However, it was not wasted since there was Art Moshos’ wife who I got a nice hug from. Next thing you know there was this swarthy looking guy across the table asking where my Crawford shirt was. I shook his hand and my mind raced to identify. Obviously, I’m no Sherlock cuz it was ol’ Arty himself, who at 46 could scare the tuffest longshoreman in Philly on that look alone. It turns out he is raising a pitcher – now 13 – and if the kid can adopt that look (to go with the heater) he will do just fine. I had a great time with Art, Ralph and Mitch. Got to see Chip; said hello to Sam (of the Sharks).

After Gus fired them (and us, the fans) up, The Sharks took the stage and played most of their signature cover tunes of the 80s, plus a few originals including one song featuring Ian – son of Sam – on guitar. The lineup was a familiar one featuring Dougie Phillips (on drums), Mark on organ, Stevie Zero on guitar, Shea Quinn on bass & vocals and, of course, the showman, Sam Lugar on guitar & vocals. Dougie – in my book is the founder; Shea, for me the new kid; although in many ways it was his night cuz it was his first night back after a serious ass whipping he took last November.

Among other folks that I recognized were some guy named Gene who attended a few 340s in the day and Stan Caterbone (brother of Steve who owned The Sweet & Hot Spot in early 328 Club days; later rechristened under new ownership as The Betwixt & Between in 340 Club days) and finally – feeling no pain (and he never did) – Davy Horn. However, after Mitch, Ralph, Arty & Chip; the most 340 person there was a lovely lass, Suzanne, who used to date the “Clone.” The Clone was a Bonnie Parker roadie named Steve Noonan (for the record) who later worked for a Christian rock group – Stryper – and, Suzanne tells me, on at least one occasion for “the greatest Rock ‘n Roll band in the world – the Rolling Stones.” In any case Suzanne and I had a nice conversation about 340 Club days and I hope she – and dare I wish for the Clone – will attend the June 7th reunion.

At the start of the 2nd set I had enuff beers in me to feel comfortable with Ralph down in what he called “the mosh pit” right in front of the stage. The Sharks began the set with “I fought the Law” and “Police on my back” before jamming into perhaps my favorite Shark cover (another Clash tune) “Clampdown.” After those three I bid Ralph adieu and retreated to the safety of Arty’s table where we had a good time talking baseball and women. “Dancing with Myself” saw most of the guys doing just that. Soon, they had to take Ralph out … around 1:15. He had set too fast a pace even for him. He made a grand exit though much to the amusement of me and Art.

I ran across the parking lot to the House of Pizza – the potential of sexy sisters winning out of The Shark’s wrap up. However, it was last call at that place and no unpaired chicks so it was a mad dash back to The Village to make last call there. Not until after the obligatory and rowdy & loud (my lady Beverly said my voice was not normal the next day) demand for an encore from The Sharks. Needless to say, as planned, The Sharks acceded to the demands of the audience with a medley of covers – “You Really Got Me”, “Honky Tonk Women (is that for you Tee? Screamed Arty), “Dock of the Bay” and more that are lost to my 13th beer. After it – and since Sammy mentioned the Brunswick – I purchased a six pack (like always in the 340 days) so as not to be empty handed at the party. Chip told me, no that was just stage talk. No after party, at least not at the Brunswick. So it was up to the room by myself and a six pack. Five of the beers are now perched in my fridge; the 6th was found opened and hardly touched the next morning before Easter Mass at St. Mary’s.

I suppose this Easter was not unlike the 1981 Easter that I chronicled earlier today. On that note Happy Easter to all.

This one's for you Coach!

Coupla Current Day Drunks - I

Monday, March 17, 2008 – 340 Clubber Randy Brown attempted to join my walk in Harrisburg; however he went to Coakley’s in New Cumberland, somewhere in Mechanicsburg, and to the Appalachian Brewing Company which is at least in Harrisburg albeit not downtown. I was walking Randy for cryin’ out loud.

In any case the crawl continued without him. I opened with a 32 oz Birthday Mug at lunch at Garrason’s with my lady … followed that up with a couple of beers at a great place on 3rd – The Tap room. It is a New York Yankee bar 365 days of the year and a big time St. Patty’s Day bar on the feast. I was met there by the venerable 78 yo Calobe Jackson plus a couple of other friends. Wanda’s was next for a qwickie. Al’s was next but it was too early for the hoes. Shady McGrady’s, with the best bartender – Scotty – in the City hosted me & Gary Signor and his son’s daughter’s mother in law or was it his son in law’s daughter for a couple. On to the Midtown for one. Next up was the Firehouse and the friendly visage of Dave Royer – 13th crawl – greeted me as I approached the door. Tim Bucher and his wife Theresa were inside and awaiting our arrival. They traveled the farthest having come up from Downingtown. I must admit; I am hazy even at this early hour. Was Digger here? I think so; he no longer drinks but I do. Hence I’m unsure. Next was – and I’m sure Digger was with us know – Zembie’s for a couple of pitchers. Then on to the diner to eat dinner.

Now, the back nine. On to the Pep … and a flaming Dr. Pepper; thank you Schen & Ed? (Ed’s son at least) … skipping Molly Branigan’s to meet Keith and Louise at Scott’s where they ate dinner. I don’t think I ate again. I hope not. On to Ceolta’s where I semi-crashed. It was Tim, Theresa, Keith, Louise, Digger may have left. Dave I’m not sure about. Kara Ruby was there and said hello. I was in deep water and just sort of drifted. If you can’t swim and ever went in the ocean where your feet are no longer touching you know what I mean next thing I knew I was a couple of hundred feet down the beach and never found my way back. On to The Quarter, I hope Tim & Keith did also, I’d like for them to have seen it. Nobody there. On to the St. Moritz – CLOSED! On to Garrason’s for maybe one. On to Mercado’s for three … which definitely was three more than I need. Bottom-line was 14 bars, 24 beers, and a flaming hot of something. Now I am fifty-seven.

Curator's Corner

While the Juke Box has been featured before on Curator's Corner and its picture will again appear soon in a "This Date" its visage was required today again as we reach April 1981. On Friday, April 3, Phil & Tee purchased the juke box at Ford Amusements on Howard Avenue, Lancaster, PA, for $350. If George and his main complainer, Mrs. Garman, thought it was loud prior to this they had a shock coming.

On the evening of April 3rd, with the juke box having just been delivered, Kenny and others began pumping in quarters - a whole lotta quarters. Wouldn't ya know it but a 340 broke out. On that evening, $12.00 in quarters and one thin dime were put into the juke box. (NOTE: for those not paying attention, here is the math; $12.10 is 48 quarters which equals 144 songs at roughly three minutes a song that is 432 minutes or over 7 hours of muzak!!!) After a slow day two, Sunday, immortalized since then as Masada (in commemoration of the ABC mini-series that debuted that evening) another $11.15 in quarters was jammed into the juke. It was some weekend debut for the box.

The $12.10 opening day record stood up through Easter if only because that blessed weekend's party was such a drunken affair that I didn't count the juke box money until Sunday and statistically I had no way of the splitting the $24 between Friday and Saturday; chances are pretty good that one of those two days exceeded the $12.10 record but I assigned $12 to each and the record stood for another weekend. Nonetheless, the juke box had played for 14 1/2 hours that Good Friday and Easter Saturday ... good Catholic boys celebrating the holiest holidays on the calendar.

This Date in 340 Club History

March 24, 1978 - G.H. Kratzert penned his famous letter regarding "the conduct of you people (that'd be us, 340 Club residents) and your friends (that'd be you, 340 Club members) at 338 and 340 West King Street". In summary, George stated, "just a general complaint of extreme disorganized and general misconduct on the property."

Must've been a doozy of a party to move Mr. Kratzert to write a two plage letter cuz we had been his tenants for almost two years then and had never received such a written reprimand before.

Trivia: 66-70

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:
66)In Summers Point,NJ, there was a bar named "The Anchorage" where we "warmed" up for the Bonnie Parker Band who played just a stones throw from there at the Dunes Till Dawn. How many beers did you get for a dollar ($1) at the Anchorage ?

67)Sil has been called Sil since his high school days but what is his birth name ?

68)Sil campaigned to have a museum constructed in Lancaster to honor what legendary comedy trio ?

69)What was the name of our neighbor at 338 during 340 I,who liked to strum his guitar on the back porch ?

70)What was the nickname of 340 member Scott Myers ?



Last Weeks Q & A's
63) Which 340 Club address had the longest period – 328, 340 I, 340 II, or 338?
In order, 340 I (with 1,187 days), 340 II (774 days), 338 (456 days), 328 (313 days).

64) What seven 340 Club members spent over a year residing on West King Street?
Again, in order, Tee, Sil, Phil are the easy ones. John, Sue, City L (i.e. Tim G) and the toughie - Jimmy Shay.

65) What contemporary/future elected officials visited 340 Club?
Lancaster Mayor Art Morris had breakfast there before a Red Rose Run in 1983, the late District Attorney Jack Kenneff attended at least one party, ditto for future City Councilman (and now a Roman Catholic priest who will do our invocation at the reunion) Pete Hahn, and School Board member Pat Snyder had to have made an appearance at the Club if only to pick up a fellow street hockey player. An asterisk goes to current Mayor Richard Gray whom Tee met once with Biker Bob Koenig at 338 West King Street before it was under 340 Club auspices. There may certainly be more.