The Townhouse Celebrates 102 Years + Repeal Day!

The Townhouse celebrated its 102nd year in operation as L.A.'s oldest bar last night with a shindig to also kick up our heels that Prohibition ended 84 years ago, with a Repeal Day extravaganza that we all look forward to every year.

The halls were decked, and spirits were high, as spirits were flowing freely without fear of arrest, like back in the day. Festivities began early, with a full on pig roast with all the fixings put out on the pool table and served up by our friends at Oscar's Cerveteca. It's all free and open to everyone, and it was delish. I'm still thinking about the excellent cheesy grits they had going on - yuuuuum. What a nice thing to do for everyone, it really is. Also nice was the free whiskey tasting that I didn't get there in time for, but that's probably a good thing.

One was given tickets when you arrived, to exchange for drinks at 1933 prices ($1!) for an hour when you heard the bell ring. They offered old timey themed drinks, and I indulged in a "Penicillin" which instantly cured whatever ailed me. The era-appropriate jazzy musical stylings of Brad Kay were on display entertaining everyone downstairs in the Del Monte Speakeasy, where the real draw of the night for me was also taking place - a talk on Venice (and drinks!) history given by the wonderful bar historian, and my friend, George Czarnecki.

Czarnecki is a true Venice treasure, and his rich baritone held everyone rapt while he spun tales about the ghosts of Townhouse past. He introduced the talk by saying it was the most important day on "the calendar of cocktail culture", and that if we had been sitting there like this during Prohibition, we'd have been breaking the law in this "Den of Iniquity" - which it still is. Czarnecki thanked our hosts, owners Louie and Netty Ryan, then told of how he and former owner Frank Bennett (who he came to work for 24 years ago!) used to come downstairs after work and polish off a bottle while regaling each other with yarns from their shared war veteran days (Korean and Vietnam, respectively). When the bottle ran dry and Bennett ran out of wind, he would slam his hand down on the table and exclaim, "AMEN!" and they'd go back upstairs to let people in for a new day.

Venice - Coney Island Of The Pacific by Jeffrey Stanton was cited by Czarnecki as the definitive history of Venice (I'm working on the modern history myself), and stressed that "If you're going to live and work in Venice, you BETTER appreciate what was here." (Hear that, Snapchat?) He went on to say that "You can't really understand unless you've seen what we've lost, and what we have left." Exactly. That is what all we who love and care about Venice have been struggling to preserve. What we have left.

"Somewhere Cesar Menotti is smiling a wry smile that we're using his name to sell coffee," cracked Czarnecki about the other previous owner (there have only been three in all its 102 years). Because Menotti slung drinks upstairs, and when Prohibition came about, he simply moved the operation downstairs. He explained that the stairways are so steep at The Townie because they used to be elevator shafts to pulley the drinkers downstairs! In all my years of bellying up at The Townhouse, somehow I never knew that. You wouldn't be invited downstairs, however, unless Menotti "liked the cut of your jib."  It was also known as a Mafia bar, "where the bodies would just wash out with the tide in the morning." This was said with a wink, but I wouldn't be at all surprised. This was - and still is in some ways - the Wild West.

"In the '30's, this country could use a drink, a bracer," Czarnecki said about the Depression Era, but I feel like we all needed one just as bad on this night decades later. During Prohibition, the toast that would ring out in The Townhouse basement was "Let us strike a blow for Liberty!" - which they eventually did. As we must all do again now. Everyone knows this, and Czarnecki addressed it by saying, "Exercise your franchise - Vote! If you can't vote FOR something, vote to REPEAL something. Then find yourself a good saloon." Like The Townhouse.

In closing, Czarnecki, our beloved boulevardier, led us all in the glass clinking and shouting of "Let us strike a blow for Liberty!" We did, and then dear George bellowed, "Ladies and Gentlemen - AMEN!" as his mentor had done before him. (These days I would add, AWOMEN!)

Louie Ryan thanked everyone for coming, saying he was merely the "Custodian of The Townhouse at this point", and that George had led him in how to honor the venerable bar's history when he took over from Bennett. Todd Van Hoffman summed it up, saying "The Townhouse honors the living history of Venice." You truly can feel the aura of its history, and I was jealous of the broad who had dressed up in perfect Prohibition Era style ... it made it feel like we'd just emerged from a time machine. Let's all theme it up next year!

Then the bell rang and we all drank like 1930's people. The Mudbug Brass Band led the parade from upstairs to down, and regaled the crowd with their Dixieland fun until last call.

Happy 102 years, Townhouse! Happy 84 years of legality, Drinkers! To Liberty!

The Third Annual Venice Sign Holiday Lighting - The Best.

Venice may as well have been Bedford Falls last Friday evening, when what seemed like the entire community came out to watch the Venice sign get its holiday outfit on. Windward Avenue was closed to traffic, a stage was set up and the whole area's halls were decked.

Though First Friday was going on over on Abbot Kinney with a "Holiday Stroll", it seemed like residents left that to the visitors, as seemingly everyone I knew was over on Windward - and in a great mood. The holiday spirit was contagious, and as friends and neighbors greeted each other under the almost-full moon, there was something special in the air.

Booths sold hot chocolate and cookies, and/or gave out information about various community organizations.

One smart entrepreneur had a brisk business going, selling Santa hats from his bike. There were a lot of takers, even though the night was unusually balmy.

Snowflakes were projected on to the surrounding buildings, making it all the more festive - even if it's the only kind we're going to see around these parts.

The Venice Symphony Orchestra played a nice sampling of seasonal songs (and some '80's metal!), from "Hava Nagila" to "Silent Night" and even had a choir to accompany them this year. My favorite was when the entire crowd sang along to John Lennon's "Happy Christmas (War Is Over)" on the War is over, if you want it ... part. It was pretty moving. Actually all of it was, seeing everyone together for the sake of fun, not protests, in these super-charged times. Conductor Wesley Flowers voiced his vision of seeing a similar gathering for Fourth Of July, with maybe the VSO playing at the end of the Venice Pier. Everyone yelled their approval, so let's make that happen!

Councilman Mike Bonin did the usual political m.c. speech, and gave a certificate to Danny Samakow, honoring him for his creation of the holiday sign lighting and wonderful stewardship of our town, or as Bonin put it (in an unusual for a politician turn of phrase), "He likes to make shit happen." Gotta love Venice. Samakow chose not to dress as Santa this year, and said, "Go see the LAPD Santa, he's around somewhere." Comedy - and yes, the LAPD Santa was cruising around town on his "Sleigh" earlier in the evening.

Bonin next introduced this year's celebrity guest light switcher, Pink, holding her daughter, Willow. I've seen Pink around for years, and think she was a great choice. Even greater when she said that she moved here when she was 20, but wanted to run away here when she was 9. (Me too!). She chose to live and raise her daughter here because "There's room for all of us, to live and love as we want ... I love the feistiness of it, the creativity of it ... I'm just madly in love with Venice. Merry Everything!"

With that, Pink and Willow pushed the button and the Venice sign blinked on with it's Christmas red and green lights, and the crowd went wild. They really did. It's kind of great to see a whole community get jazzed just by six letters turning on, but it's more than that, isn't it? It's the feeling of loving where you live, and celebrating that with the people around you that feel the same, and want to keep our part of the world special.

Special it was, as you couldn't move two feet without bumping into yet another old friend to hug. Or new friends, as I became a true tree-hugger with my new friend, The Tree Man.

The crowd slowly dispersed (after the obligatory photos in the intersection under the sign!) for the various neighboring watering holes.

We hightailed it back over to The Townhouse, where the Repeal Day party, pig roast and lecture was already in high gear. Owners Louis and Netty Ryan hosted their biggest party of the year, celebrating the end of Prohibition in 1933.

This meant a giant pig roast (and delicious sides) courtesy of  Oscar's Cerveteca, all free of charge as a thank you to patrons. It was great.

Downstairs, the cocktail historian again gave his interesting and humorous lecture, accompanied by the drinks of the era.

Speaking of drinks, upstairs when the bell rang (and another roar from the crowd), the drinks were at 1933 prices for an hour. Bedlam ensued, trying to get to the bar, but all was good-natured and a blast as you just chatted up the people next to you as you waited.

After a night of carousing, the streets emptied, but the sign kept the holiday spirit going all night ... kind of like the Christmas tree in the living room of the whole town. Venice as Bedford Falls? There really are Christmas miracles. Thank you to all who made this wonderful event happen so beautifully again ... even if you were just there singing along. All lives matter.

Let us all remember that as we enjoy our holidays together, and try to go for that one really big miracle ... Peace on Earth.