I've been trying to interview the owner of Markey's, Roy, for a little while now, actually since last Thursday. He's kind of hard man to catch. I guess if I were the owner of a bar I would be too. Most of the times I tried to get to him at Markey's, before I met him on Sunday, either he was out on errands or the bartenders had no idea at all where he was. Busy man. Bills to pay, a bar to run and all in New Orleans. This is a hard city to stay on time in. I'm not bent out of shape or anything. Actually, I'd probably do the same thing in his situation. Some random kid (although he figured out pretty immediately that I am from the University of Kentucky) trying to interview him about Markey's. Doesn't really make much sense at first glance. Hence the necessity of an interview.
Interviews are a lot harder to come by than I thought, very much a trial and error situation. Not to the extent that one party is being offended by the other's absence, more along the lines of people have a lot of stuff to take care of in business and life, i.e. today when called Roy he told me he was taking his daughter trick or treating tonight. You've got to do what you've got to do. In other words, you try to set up the interview on Sunday for Monday, fine. Monday rolls around and things have come up or the interviewee has completely forgotten. No hard feelings, just how things work sometimes. The only thing to get around such obstacles as bad memory and conflicting schedules is persistence.
On Sunday I finally caught Roy while he was at the bar watching the New Orleans Saints game against San Fransisco. The bar was packed. I knew, from one of the bartenders, that he always, without a doubt, watched Saints games at Markey's. Towards the end of the first half I found him. While he was walking through, I asked him about the interview. He responded in a very jovial, friendly way. Interview Monday at 1 p.m.
Monday at 1 p.m.: I get to Markey's and grab a seat at the bar, High Life draft. A half hour rolls by and no sign of him, another High Life draft. I asked the bartender, Lisa, when he was supposed to be in. He was out on errands, who knew, kind of a come and go sort of guy. I sat and watched tv with the five or so other people in the bar. The 10 Creepiest Places to Visit on the Travel Channel. I will say though, watching tv with the rest of the neighborhood is more entertaining and beneficial than by yourself. You might be talking about the validity of the belief in ghosts, but that simple act is a bonding agent. A little past 3 p.m., after the creepiest place turned out to be some plush hotel in Southern California (not creepy), he shows up with a scoop and other bar items in hand. He sincerely apologized. Had a lot to drink the night before, the Saints won their third straight and the Red Sox won the series in the fourth game--lot to drink about. He said, "Man I drank so much last night, I couldn't swallow when I woke up." Next time, Tuesday 1 p.m.
Tuesday at 1 p.m.: Similar situation, I showed up grabbed a seat and a beer and waited. After a while tv sucks you in. The bartender, this time Corinne, had on the Travel Channel again only this time the show was about vacation homes out West called "earthships". It's really easy to make light of the Travel Channel and as you can imagine jokes ensued and friendships were made. Strangely enough the Travel Channel also becomes more entertaining as the time passes. 3 p.m. rolls around. I ask about Roy, the bartender had no idea.
Wednesday 3 p.m.: I made another attempt. Same story, only this time the conversation was about Halloween costumes and how the news said sex offenders were being rounded up for "victim empathy" classes tonight so as not to prey on the unsuspecting. Lisa offered his number to me. I call him, he answers in his friendly way. No can do, taking his daughter trick or treating. I'm not complaining, it be very weird, wrong, if he passed up his daughter for an interview with me. New meeting time, Thursday 9 a.m.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
5
So I went to Markey's tonight. I rode my bike because it's only a couple of blocks away. When I was riding though I thought of something this guy Chris (a contractor) told me. He told me that people, well certain people of the criminal element, hide behind cars and bushes and other places and as you ride by them on your bike they will through sticks into your spokes to throw you off of the bike. After you fall they'll come over and steal your stuff. Now I don't know how accurate his claim was but he seems like an honest guy so I won't argue the point. As he told me, "You've got to keep your head on a three hundred and sixty degree swivel around here at night." I took that to heart. I rode my bike there but I was on the look out the whole way. He told that about two weeks ago. And I haven't really thought about it until tonight. For whatever reason though I was worried about it today.
Either way I got to Markey's safe and sound. The reason I went there tonight was to find what out Markey's is, well as it acts in the Bywater community. What does Markey's mean to the communithy? Why is it the neighborhood bar? What is the role of the neighborhood bar in New Orleans in general, the Bywater specifically? So I got in to Markey's and I sat down at the bar, grabbed a beer and began to wait. Every time I go in there by myself I sit down at the closest available seat. The assumption is that eventually the person next to me, or soon to be next to me, will begin a conversation. I only assume that because that has been the case countless times at Markey's. People are very talkative and friendly there. I could say people do that to reach out. But I don't think that is actually why. It's a neighborhood bar. People are trying to be neighbors. If people see you around they begin to feel like you are a neighbor as opposed to an outsider. As I stated in my last entry, if people there recognize you, i.e. the bartenders, everyone else will recognize you. For example tonight I met a man named "John". I sat down and he saw Lisa, the bartender, wave at me. I assumed that he assumed I was a neighborhood person, and a regular at Markey's (which was further validated when Chris, a contractor in the neighborhood, and Tom, a carpenter/plumber, sat down and talked to us, having talked to me several times before, at different times during the evening).
John and I started talking about the game, Navy vs. Pitt. It was a predominately offensive game, that was an icebreaker. After a beer or two more, we began a legitimate conversation. Most conversations in that bar begin with where you're from. He told me, "I'm a Steelers fan too, so I"m glad Pitt. is runnin this offense right now." So I asked him if he was from Pittsburgh. "Na man I'm from New York, not the city but a little bit outside." His wife is from Pittsburgh, now he's down here with his wife running a small bed and breakfast on Poland. After the conversation became comfortable, familiar, I tried to pull Markey's itself into the equation. That was the point of me going there in the first place. We started to talk about the neighborhood, i.e. how people "hide their wealth, so other people don't know." "Man I'm a carpenter by trade. And you'll see these houses that look like shit. But when you go inside they're beautiful. I work in the neighborhood. I'm not trying to get rich. People know me and I know they'll pay me." I said that that was the way Markey's seems to me. It's all a matter of neighborly courtesy and friendliness. One thing he said specifically about Markey's was that it's the same way as those houses. What they are inside is different from how they appear outside (especially before Markey's go that nice red paint job).
I guess what I've come to realize talking to him and others, the stories themselves being fantastic byproducts, is that Markey's and neighborhood bars in general act as a neighborhood forum. They provide an essential function for the sense of overall community. John said "New Orleans is a neighborhood place. Bywater is relaxed place. Shit happens here like it does anywhere in the city but kinda tend to look out for people here." The neighborhood bar is a place for people in the neighborhood to congregate in a "relaxed" setting and create neighborly bonds. He told me that when he and his wife first moved down here "you know, our neighbors came over with a bottle of champagne. They gave us that as a gift and then invited us over for dinner. And, you know, this is before the hurricane. They thanked us for being on the street and trying to keep this bed and breakfast going, even though there's no breakfast anymore. People like to go out in this city you know what I mean. No body wants to stay in and eat."
Granted, more interviews and research is required to actually figure out the role of Markey's, specifically, in the neighborhood. What I lack now is approach, or methodology is perhaps a better word for it. I know what Markey's is. I know how people feel about. There is a reason that one the first things people ask me around here is if I have been to Markey's yet. There's a reason those same people have told me, and people actually at Markey's have told me that Markey's is the best bar in the New Orleans. I've experienced why. It's a matter of verbalizing it.
Stephen Greenblatt said in "Resonance and Wonder", "The Museum's rich collections of synagogue art and the historic synagogue buildings of Prague's Jewish town," says the catalogue of the State Jewish Museum, "form a memorial complex that has not been preserved to the same extent anywhere else in Europe." New Orleans itself is kind of the same thing--always moving around, the dynamic of the population changing (i.e. the influx of hispanics after the storm), yet the city is an artifact. That's how Markey's is, a sort of spiritual fixture in the dynamic of the Bywater neighborhood.
Either way I got to Markey's safe and sound. The reason I went there tonight was to find what out Markey's is, well as it acts in the Bywater community. What does Markey's mean to the communithy? Why is it the neighborhood bar? What is the role of the neighborhood bar in New Orleans in general, the Bywater specifically? So I got in to Markey's and I sat down at the bar, grabbed a beer and began to wait. Every time I go in there by myself I sit down at the closest available seat. The assumption is that eventually the person next to me, or soon to be next to me, will begin a conversation. I only assume that because that has been the case countless times at Markey's. People are very talkative and friendly there. I could say people do that to reach out. But I don't think that is actually why. It's a neighborhood bar. People are trying to be neighbors. If people see you around they begin to feel like you are a neighbor as opposed to an outsider. As I stated in my last entry, if people there recognize you, i.e. the bartenders, everyone else will recognize you. For example tonight I met a man named "John". I sat down and he saw Lisa, the bartender, wave at me. I assumed that he assumed I was a neighborhood person, and a regular at Markey's (which was further validated when Chris, a contractor in the neighborhood, and Tom, a carpenter/plumber, sat down and talked to us, having talked to me several times before, at different times during the evening).
John and I started talking about the game, Navy vs. Pitt. It was a predominately offensive game, that was an icebreaker. After a beer or two more, we began a legitimate conversation. Most conversations in that bar begin with where you're from. He told me, "I'm a Steelers fan too, so I"m glad Pitt. is runnin this offense right now." So I asked him if he was from Pittsburgh. "Na man I'm from New York, not the city but a little bit outside." His wife is from Pittsburgh, now he's down here with his wife running a small bed and breakfast on Poland. After the conversation became comfortable, familiar, I tried to pull Markey's itself into the equation. That was the point of me going there in the first place. We started to talk about the neighborhood, i.e. how people "hide their wealth, so other people don't know." "Man I'm a carpenter by trade. And you'll see these houses that look like shit. But when you go inside they're beautiful. I work in the neighborhood. I'm not trying to get rich. People know me and I know they'll pay me." I said that that was the way Markey's seems to me. It's all a matter of neighborly courtesy and friendliness. One thing he said specifically about Markey's was that it's the same way as those houses. What they are inside is different from how they appear outside (especially before Markey's go that nice red paint job).
I guess what I've come to realize talking to him and others, the stories themselves being fantastic byproducts, is that Markey's and neighborhood bars in general act as a neighborhood forum. They provide an essential function for the sense of overall community. John said "New Orleans is a neighborhood place. Bywater is relaxed place. Shit happens here like it does anywhere in the city but kinda tend to look out for people here." The neighborhood bar is a place for people in the neighborhood to congregate in a "relaxed" setting and create neighborly bonds. He told me that when he and his wife first moved down here "you know, our neighbors came over with a bottle of champagne. They gave us that as a gift and then invited us over for dinner. And, you know, this is before the hurricane. They thanked us for being on the street and trying to keep this bed and breakfast going, even though there's no breakfast anymore. People like to go out in this city you know what I mean. No body wants to stay in and eat."
Granted, more interviews and research is required to actually figure out the role of Markey's, specifically, in the neighborhood. What I lack now is approach, or methodology is perhaps a better word for it. I know what Markey's is. I know how people feel about. There is a reason that one the first things people ask me around here is if I have been to Markey's yet. There's a reason those same people have told me, and people actually at Markey's have told me that Markey's is the best bar in the New Orleans. I've experienced why. It's a matter of verbalizing it.
Stephen Greenblatt said in "Resonance and Wonder", "The Museum's rich collections of synagogue art and the historic synagogue buildings of Prague's Jewish town," says the catalogue of the State Jewish Museum, "form a memorial complex that has not been preserved to the same extent anywhere else in Europe." New Orleans itself is kind of the same thing--always moving around, the dynamic of the population changing (i.e. the influx of hispanics after the storm), yet the city is an artifact. That's how Markey's is, a sort of spiritual fixture in the dynamic of the Bywater neighborhood.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
4
One of my favorite things to do in New Orleans is going to Markey's. I go there a whole lot. Sometimes maybe too much. It is probably the coolest bar I've ever been too or frequented. When I have to go back to Lexington, I wish i could take Markey's with me. There's a whole lot of reasons why, i.e. free pool and the shuffle board. Cheap beer (two dollar high lifes). The Saints games are really fun to go to, even if the Saints aren't doing well, because all kinds of people from the neighborhood are there and sometimes the owner puts out free red beans and rice. People are always playing good music on the jukebox. One night I was in there and the jukebox started with some Hank Williams went on to some Johnny Cash then to the Misfits (I think) and ended up with some ODB. Weird but appealing, Markey's is a tiny tiny place, a hole in the wall, almost run down. But there are five or six brand new flat screen televisions, thirty six inch televisions. This contributes to the Saints games as well. Plus I think now they are serving food regularly. I haven't tried it yet but I bet it's good.
The strongest appeal of Markey's to me is the Cheer's factor. Sometimes you really do want to go where everybody knows your name. And over the span of time that I have been in New Orleans I've met a whole lot of different people there. I know several of the bartenders by name. I kind of have a crush on one of them. Her name is Lisa, but I'm pretty sure she's got a big boyfriend. One of the guys I've seen there a couple of times calls me Kentucky because he doesn't remember my name. I don't remember his either so it doesn't really matter. But I do know I like being refered to as Kentucky. What is interesting about all of this though is the fact that after you become established, i.e. a regular, people readily accept you and talk to you about anything, from where they are from to the nature of exploding trash piles to the regularity of their sexual life. A lot of being considered a regular is recognition by the bartenders. If they know your name or are familiar with you, you win. Immediately other people also recognize you as being a regular. This seems almost synonymous with being considered an equal member of the neighborhood.
Aside from a somewhat general sense of neighborhood acceptance, there is the added value of the stories I hear. I met a Lieutenant Colonel from Atlanta, Georgia, commuting between the base on Poland St. to his home, and his wife, in Atlanta. One of the more interesting, maybe weird is the word, characters I met in Markey's was a thirty seven year old guy named Dave from North Carolina who told me about his occasional interaction with call girls from the yellow pages. He also told me a story about his "crazy" ex-wife who threw a bag of trash on a bonfire they were having back in NC. The trash exploded. It caught one of his friends on fire and scratched up a brand new Grand Am really bad. I liked that story. The call girls are just kind of creepy. I'm interested in the people of the Bywater, especially at Markey's.
The strongest appeal of Markey's to me is the Cheer's factor. Sometimes you really do want to go where everybody knows your name. And over the span of time that I have been in New Orleans I've met a whole lot of different people there. I know several of the bartenders by name. I kind of have a crush on one of them. Her name is Lisa, but I'm pretty sure she's got a big boyfriend. One of the guys I've seen there a couple of times calls me Kentucky because he doesn't remember my name. I don't remember his either so it doesn't really matter. But I do know I like being refered to as Kentucky. What is interesting about all of this though is the fact that after you become established, i.e. a regular, people readily accept you and talk to you about anything, from where they are from to the nature of exploding trash piles to the regularity of their sexual life. A lot of being considered a regular is recognition by the bartenders. If they know your name or are familiar with you, you win. Immediately other people also recognize you as being a regular. This seems almost synonymous with being considered an equal member of the neighborhood.
Aside from a somewhat general sense of neighborhood acceptance, there is the added value of the stories I hear. I met a Lieutenant Colonel from Atlanta, Georgia, commuting between the base on Poland St. to his home, and his wife, in Atlanta. One of the more interesting, maybe weird is the word, characters I met in Markey's was a thirty seven year old guy named Dave from North Carolina who told me about his occasional interaction with call girls from the yellow pages. He also told me a story about his "crazy" ex-wife who threw a bag of trash on a bonfire they were having back in NC. The trash exploded. It caught one of his friends on fire and scratched up a brand new Grand Am really bad. I liked that story. The call girls are just kind of creepy. I'm interested in the people of the Bywater, especially at Markey's.
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