I've been threatening to host a Bukowski Night -- drinks (duh), readings, audio, a movie or two -- for some time now, but I think I'm going to have to postpone it again until April, after Easter.
That realization reminded me of a night a few weeks ago. I was in Detroit, at this shithole of a bar named Steve's Place, next to St. Andrew's Hall, waiting for a friend to get out of a concert. After my first cheap-ass gin and tonic, I turned to Bill and said, "Charles Bukowski would have loved this place." Not 10 minutes later, Matt came over and pointed out a yellowed piece of paper tacked next to the ancient cash register -- an old Metro Times article naming the joint "Best Bukowskian watering hole":
Steve's Place has a postapocalyptic feel, as if burnt out and only marginally re-established. Light is random and murky. High ceilings, deep booths and a bar hued in colors of '70s shag carpet; bottle green and blue... It's a Bukowskian dream, an overlooked jewel in downtown Detroit. It could be the last bar on the last block on the last day at last call.That was written in 2002, and I can't guess even one particle of dust in that place has moved or changed since the article was published.
There's a longer piece including a conversation with Steve himeself, the owner-bartender who looked to me to be about 137 years old.
Too bad this place isn't in Ann Arbor. I guess I'll have to make due with the 8-Ball.
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