Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Remembering friends Joe Doherty and Bob Cantu on their birthdays.
Though their birthdays are on different days, today is Bob’s birthday.
I remembered this post I did on an interesting night.
La Cita Bar and The Redwood Bar & Grill
Both guys… I respect. One I’ve known for twenty-five years; the other I have known six. Both have roots deep in the underground music scene of Los Angeles; one a fanzine journalist, Flipside Fanzine and Baby Jeepers, and the other is singer for Jughead’s Revenge.
At night, the buildings of light merged along the Hollywood freeway. The fast-moving river of car lights of red and white screamed a colorful expression to the low foggy clouds above.
Clubs, restaurants, movies and driving home from work; happy hour peaked in the city! Cars stopping too quickly, and others were slicing in front to get by as the strong current of cars raced towards the Broadway exit.
The lost shadow of Bunker Hill and Angel’s Flight whispered a Déjà Vu of voices among the unknown new buildings standing tall near and around the Angelus Plaza.
Parking was good past 8 PM and walking on Hill St. with my old black boots gravitated with familiar strides of a dark night. This October night was quiet, off and a bit tilted. Noir, unfamiliar and vexed I felt a blend between the femme fatale and the innocent unaware woman.
While drinking beers, gazing above at the three giant buildings dancing lazily in the foggy clouds, I felt secure in the iron fence outdoor patio.
Joe recommended the classico margarita. I’m sure that this place, this bar, and this drink are known by many. It was a tasty drink and it lingered on my taste buds as we said our goodbye and walked to the next bar on 2nd Street.
Funny as I grow older how I feel time bends. What seems so long ago; what I wanted to run from then, now bends and reaches back towards me. Finding me again. Seeming closer now than it once was.
Both guys were a couple blocks from each other that night; they both hold and continue to endure a musical something that binds us to the underground music scene of Los Angeles. Beholding to the music scene.
Bob put out his own fanzine promoting the scene he loved; Joe was going to tour Australia which was his dream come true.
Bob was standing at the entrance to the bar. Our friend quickly stamped our wrists before we knew it. We did not plan to go there. We talked and moved inside the club. My appetite was soon satisfied with one of the best club-hamburgers around. Sweet ranch dressing, french fries and beer; loud live music, smoky leather jackets and a cocktail waitress all moved tilted and film noir before my sleepy eyes.