[Dom, the owner of Friendly Lounge, as a child dancing] Note: this piece is from 7/2/13, so before I became a columnist at Unz. Almost none of my readers here have seen it then. It’s an intimate portrait of a neighborhood and neighborhood bar before the world went mad.
Great story, Linh. Interesting how your remarks about the president ring true today, too! I love the photos, too. Looks like a good bar. I had a good bar in St. Louis, when I was much younger. O'Connell's Irish Pub. Wonderful hangout. I was a barmaid there for a short while, too. I realized I use too too many times but will leave it as is!
My God, what a powerful piece. One of the most insightful, revealing and truthful essays I have ever come across (with my limited comprehension) in my 66 sad and misbegotten years of living in this misbegotten place.
Each of those people, in each of those photographs, makes me wonder: Do they live today? Have they gone on to their reward? For those long gone, did they do okay? In the end? Did they look back, and have some satisfaction? Reasonable lives with some love and some warmth and some caring in the end? And for those still with us (could any of them be)? Where do they live today? How are they doing? Is there anyone around for them, even now? Does anyone care?
Jimmy is the only one I know for sure is dead. Don the Hunter was in pretty bad health, though. When he didn't show up at Friendly for nearly a month in 2017 or 18, Dom thought he had died.
I was homeless for a time in California. Due to no fault or "sin" on my part. (Low paying job; sudden lay off; high rent.) And my relatives back in New Jersey not only wouldn't help me, they wouldn't even talk to me. They hung up the phone on me.
Imagine what they think of strangers. These are my relatives (ostensibly) good, god-fearing, middle class Americans. Who, when you wipe off the painted-on smiles, are monsters.
Something -- I don't have the wit or intelligence to fully comprehend it -- is deeply wrong here. Mr. Dinh approaches it. God protect him for speaking the truth.
They're drinking PBR all over the place at the Tug and Knik Bar and Grill here in Knik, Ak without a hipster to be found anywhere close. More likely they are former Texans or Minnesota residents. They're into four wheelers and side by sides which they ride right next to the road which blankets the almost train like traffic on the road in dust. Damn near every one of them has a bear story. They either shot one or it wrecked their cabin. Usually both. All of them know Osama Bin Laden took out The Towers and that Sarah Palin can't see Russia from here. Just one day per year it gets kind of hip at the Knik Bar and Grill because the Iditabike starts at the bar. For an entertaining read on what this race is like (hell) Iditarod Trail Invitational v2017… THE RACE… 350 Miles of Ludacracy – BACK OF THE PACK RACING
There are humans that do the same race from Knik to Nome on Skis, foot or bike. It has got to be one of the most punishing events one can enter. It is abusive. There are people that come up here to mush dogs who quit after the first few years who's dogs sit on a six foot chain for the rest of their lives and others that work their dogs almost every day. If I was a dog I would want my owner to be a legitimate Iditarod racer rather than the more common former type I mentioned. But yes, I imagine there are some racers more concerned about their position in the race than the condition of their dogs. On this planet everything and everybody gets mistreated.
Great story, Linh. Interesting how your remarks about the president ring true today, too! I love the photos, too. Looks like a good bar. I had a good bar in St. Louis, when I was much younger. O'Connell's Irish Pub. Wonderful hangout. I was a barmaid there for a short while, too. I realized I use too too many times but will leave it as is!
Astonishing, deep and painful truths so stunningly reported, with a touch of black humor that shakes one out of complacency. Thank you, Linh.
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, 2013 was the golden years compared to today. Can't wait to see how shitty 2033 is going to be.
Since Kerouac there have been three American writers worth reading: Charles Bukowski, the late Dan Fante, and Linh Dinh.
https://www.lifestorage.com/blog/storage/what-not-to-put-in-storage-2/#:~:text=Storage%20facilities%20must%20evict%20any,unit%20into%20a%20makeshift%20home.
As a human being you are illegal. Don't you f*cking get it by now? America doesn't want you and doesn't need you. So just go the f*ck away.
My God, what a powerful piece. One of the most insightful, revealing and truthful essays I have ever come across (with my limited comprehension) in my 66 sad and misbegotten years of living in this misbegotten place.
I agree.
Each of those people, in each of those photographs, makes me wonder: Do they live today? Have they gone on to their reward? For those long gone, did they do okay? In the end? Did they look back, and have some satisfaction? Reasonable lives with some love and some warmth and some caring in the end? And for those still with us (could any of them be)? Where do they live today? How are they doing? Is there anyone around for them, even now? Does anyone care?
Hi James,
Jimmy is the only one I know for sure is dead. Don the Hunter was in pretty bad health, though. When he didn't show up at Friendly for nearly a month in 2017 or 18, Dom thought he had died.
Linh
No one cares. That's America.
I was homeless for a time in California. Due to no fault or "sin" on my part. (Low paying job; sudden lay off; high rent.) And my relatives back in New Jersey not only wouldn't help me, they wouldn't even talk to me. They hung up the phone on me.
Imagine what they think of strangers. These are my relatives (ostensibly) good, god-fearing, middle class Americans. Who, when you wipe off the painted-on smiles, are monsters.
Something -- I don't have the wit or intelligence to fully comprehend it -- is deeply wrong here. Mr. Dinh approaches it. God protect him for speaking the truth.
They're drinking PBR all over the place at the Tug and Knik Bar and Grill here in Knik, Ak without a hipster to be found anywhere close. More likely they are former Texans or Minnesota residents. They're into four wheelers and side by sides which they ride right next to the road which blankets the almost train like traffic on the road in dust. Damn near every one of them has a bear story. They either shot one or it wrecked their cabin. Usually both. All of them know Osama Bin Laden took out The Towers and that Sarah Palin can't see Russia from here. Just one day per year it gets kind of hip at the Knik Bar and Grill because the Iditabike starts at the bar. For an entertaining read on what this race is like (hell) Iditarod Trail Invitational v2017… THE RACE… 350 Miles of Ludacracy – BACK OF THE PACK RACING
PETA recently posted information on the Iditarod and how mistreated and abused the unfortunate dogs are.
There are humans that do the same race from Knik to Nome on Skis, foot or bike. It has got to be one of the most punishing events one can enter. It is abusive. There are people that come up here to mush dogs who quit after the first few years who's dogs sit on a six foot chain for the rest of their lives and others that work their dogs almost every day. If I was a dog I would want my owner to be a legitimate Iditarod racer rather than the more common former type I mentioned. But yes, I imagine there are some racers more concerned about their position in the race than the condition of their dogs. On this planet everything and everybody gets mistreated.