Tucson is closed.
For me, I guess it all started when the Home Den went shut. It was our neighborhood pub, a place where the barstaff and owners knew us by name, where we wrote on the wall next to the place we always sat, usually at the end of the left side bar, behind the Guns N Roses pinball machine where we would play Monkey Bash on the touch screen video game console, drinking cheap beer and listening to the strange mix of music coming from the jukebox. It was also the place where we went to on Wednesday nights to watch “Top Chef”, or Mondays to watch “Flavor Of Love” because the place was usually empty enough where we could convince one of the bartenders to turn one of the TVs to those shows and turn the volume up a bit. Or at least click on the ‘subtitles’ option and read about the impending reality show drama. The Home Den is where my buddy and I had regular DJ gigs. Every other Saturday night we would play an eclectic mix of rock and metal, filling the place up with our fog machine and banging our heads with the patrons and fans.
But that all came to an end.
One day I get an email saying that our Saturday show would be cancelled because the Home Den had to close it’s doors. Something about liquor taxes or underage drinking or back rent not being paid or whatever. We tried hanging out at the next door bar, the Golden Nugget, but that place usually attracted a wider range of collegiate ruffian, pool hall marauder, biker thug and un-ironic barflies. Plus it didn’t have the poorly inked in messages of love and marriage proposals that myself and fiancee had scribbled on the wall at our usual place at the bar.
An end of an era had come. But it was only the beginning.
Having lived in California my whole life and 12 years in San Francisco before moving to Tucson, the idea of real raw and vibrant dive bars has always been a big boon to my enjoyment of living in the Old Pueblo. Back in San Francisco, we had to go out of our way to find a good and dank drinking hole. But here? You have to go out of your way to NOT find one. It’s a blessing in a beer scented, sticky floored and rude graffiti in the restroom disguise.
So another favorite watering hole was the Deadwood down on Fort Lowell street. It had all the accouterments of a decent dive. Big red booths, Johnny Cash on the juke, ever present mumbling drunk guy stumbling around and jell-O shots. Yes, the Deadwood sold jell-O shots for one dollar a pop. They were gloriously hideous.
One night my lady and I decide to knock a few back at the Deadwood and play some Mad Libs where we were met with a large sign on the door.
“Come celebrate the closing of the Deadwood next week. Pot luck and dollar beers. That’s right, we’re closing for good ”
Oh man, I thought. All the good bars in our neighborhood are shutting down. What’s going on?
It all came to a head one day when we woke up and were craving some Shari’s cheeseburgers. So we got in the car drove to the place only to find the long standing Tucson institution boarded up. You have got to be kidding me? Shari’s? That place is always packed and getting the Bets Of’s the city. What gives?
But that’s not half of it. Sure Tucson has it’s fair share of dive bars and greasy spoons, all the more reason to totally love this town, but it also holds a collection of upscale restaurants that can rival any in a more metropolitan and savvy hamlet. What? I like fine cuisine just like the next guy. It’s not always burgers and beers with me. C’mon.
One of our favorite places was Terra Cotta, a popular and well reviewed establishment that has been in Tucson for over 30 years. It’s Spanish flavors fused with the subtlety of Italian cuisine has always been a treat. Now, after over three decades of serving up sumptuous food for Southern Arizona, it has somehow and quite quickly shut it’s large oak doors. This came as a complete shock. That place was always packed, always seeming to do well.
What about Cuvee? Sure it’s location was always curious, in a strip mall next to a record store and across the street from an independent movie theater and divey bar, but it’s menu was exquisite. Talk about fusion, Cuvee managed to incorporate flavors from all across the globe in a fresh and innovative way along with boasting an intimidating yet inviting wine selection. Just got word that it was closing. Why?
Then there was Red Sky, a casual yet pristine restaurant serving up fairly traditional American cuisine with a novel European twist with nightly dinner specials for those that enjoy a high end meal yet can’t afford them on a regular basis. We’ve been there at least once a month. Gone. The doors are locked, the kitchen is cold and we don’t understand why.
It’s not that we or I am stupid. Oh no. The restaurant and bar industry is a killer. I know, I’ve worked in them on and off for most of my career in jobs. I’ve seen the looks on the owners faces when bills come in and customers don’t. I’ve seen the faces of chefs having to send back prime cuts and exotic fish because it’s too risky at this stage of the budget. It’s a fierce and unpredictable industry, where innovated concepts are often shot down while others thrive for unknown reasons. But it all comes down to the food, and the three places I mentioned were all top notch in my opinion.
Is it because of the gaining population and broader shift of income coming into Tucson? One thing I have noticed in my three years of being an Arizonan, is that folks from LA go to Phoenix to golf and purchase large yet affordable property. That’s all changed now. The Phoenix / Scottsdale area is now a hot bed of multi million dollar property and catering to those who can afford such excess. Well, for those that can’t yet still want to be a part of the Southwest lifestyle, those who were once prosperous in Phoenix are now making and exodus to Tucson. This town is nothing but a construction site. Our quiet and unassuming neighborhood, once littered with vacant lots and For Sale signs has been transformed into a bevy of men in hard hats and large drums mixing cement. In a dirt lot where my dog could roam free to, um, do his business, is now site to a half built apartment complex. It’s both superlative and super-lame at the same time. We are now holding on to our tiny rent controlled garden townhouse for dear life
Because of the obvious change here in Tucson, are the big corporate meatgrinders going to be the de rigeur for us? Can it be the mom and pop restaurants and bars will be gobbled up by the Olive Gardens, the Applebees and whatever bland sterile fare that seems to sprout up every ten minutes? This is disheartening. In a town that I thought was a rough and tumble town, a once thoroughfare for western bound settlers and cowboys bent on survival and making a life out of dust and heat, has now bowed down to the antics of greedy cookie cutter establishments. Or has it?
There is still a chance our fair city can stay independent and hardy. Now, I’m not going to preach about how we should all boycott the big cheeses and support only the local markets (although that wouldn’t be a bad thing at all) it’s just that Tucson is such a rustic and unique town that I’d hate to see it change too much. Change is always good, but that won’t bring back the Home Den and our little corner wall with our devotional words and doodles.
So let’s concentrate on another factor of the imminent closing of Tucson:
Why is it that nothing stays open past 10pm?
This is a town gleaming with students who party all night, tweekers needing lamps for whatever reason at 4am, insomniacs roaming the streets in search of a late night snack or gun range and folks like me that enjoy doing their laundry when everyone else is asleep or grabbing a bite that isn’t fast food or a greasy burrito. Tucson has over a million people calling this place home, so why isn’t it catering to the obviously wide range of needs and trades?
One big boon is the fact that Wal-y World (a.k.a. Wal-Mart) is open all hours. Now, coming from California and living in San Francisco for 12 years before moving here, I have never been to a Wal-Mart. The idea always scared me. I was witness to nothing but scathing documentaries about how awful the company is, how it moves in on lowly territory and eats up the ma and pa stands and devouring the countryside with it’s mammoth girth and blue trimmed amplitude. It seemed, well, evil to me.
So the first time I stepped foot in that gapping threshold of low priced tackle I was really nervous and very apprehensive. Turns out it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I ended up buying loads of crap for cheap, in every capacity, and even found a DVD with “Footloose” and “Flashdance” for $5. Not bad.
One thing that did give me the willies and force me to go home and take a second shower was the other people shopping at Wal-Mart.
Holy balls of Odin, if there wasn’t a drooling selection of half dead shufflers, obese women yanking their wailing brood, toothless bandits rummaging through troughs of potted meat cans and lobotomy eyed teenagers listening to thudding violent hip hop while playing a video game that entails eviscerating zombies until they are nothing but rotted chunks dripping from the monitor. “The Fear” as it is called in many circles, and, yes, I full on gave into that beast. Luckily my lady held my hand and got me through it. So I trudged on with the promise of a great deal on kitchen ware and a bright sun waiting for me outside.
Now, imagine that terror times ten. THAT, my friend, is what Wal-Mart is like at 2am here in Tucson. That’s when the retail juggernaut becomes, literally, gang territory. I was convinced that at any moment, the Latin Kings and East Side Crips were going to battle it out near the juniors area. From that I knew I was safe from. It was the methed out crazies that were, again literally, stalking me as I half beer goggled my way towards the holiday decorations. Remember that “should have been pretty good but wasn’t” movie “I Am Legend”? Remember what those undead ghouls looked like? Yeah, I am not joking here. They were behind me, foaming at the mouth and asking for spare change.
If I wasn’t already half in the bag with some friends and really wanting (well, ‘pressured into’ is a better term) to experience the place after hours while still needing to do last minute Xmas shopping, I would have high tailed it out of there and ran screaming all the way home until I was safe under the sheets, shaking uncontrollably from the knowing that horrors such as Wal-Mart at 2am exists.
The fact that most places close up around 10pm on most nights is something I can deal with. Sure bars stay open, you can still get three star food for one star prices at Kingfisher or grubby happy hour fare at Old Chicago and even manage to catch a decent show or band on 4th Ave or Congress, yet needful things and home effects still have to wait till the next day.
That’s fine.
But what’s with everything being closed on Sunday? I had no idea Tucson was part of the Bible belt. Just recently She-Ra and I were out shopping only to find more than half of the places we needed to go were closed. Why? Because of God? I think the big presence in the sky would like us to contribute to the local economy. Maybe it’s because Arizona is pretty much a red state which means we are at the whims of those wielding a gavel that dictates if we are not working we are praying, so unless you go to the big corporate establishments you’re poop outta luck kid. I don’t know. Usually I have Sundays free so that’s when I have time to go shopping. Is it just me? Am I being a reactionary jerk here? Or maybe I’m one of thee few to pull up a chair, click on the machine and type up what needs to be said.
I’m just sayin’...
Anyway, in my now 3 years of being a Tucsonan I am relegating the notion of a slower pace, a quieter lifestyle, a laid back approach to being a consumer and urban dweller. For those reasons, and the cheap ass rent, I like living here. The hustle and bustle of big cities in California is, for now, behind me, and I like that.
I just wish Plaza Liquors on Campbell was open on Sundays. That place rules.
Just stay away from Wal-Mart after midnight. You have been warned!
-Mark Whittaker
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