On Monday, June 23rd 2014, is it 2014? Sometimes I think its 2015 already, will be the last day of the Powerhouse bar on Highland and Hollywood in Hollywood, Ca. My hometown. Powerhouse is one of my hangout spots. It has been there since 1947. Why its closing is not what I wanted to talk about. I just want to thank all the friends and enemies I met there.
I’ve had some good times there. Like the time Smitty and I beat some dude up for stealing our beers when we werent looking. Smitty thought his beer was magically vanishing some how. Or that he was literally going crazy. We couldnt figure out why our beer was disappearing. After about an hour we caught some dude taking huge gulps of our beers when we werent looking. Smitty told him, “You better buy us some beers or else!” The guy looked Smitty right in his eyes and cracked smitty over his eye with his own beer. Almost took his eye out. Who does that? We commenced to whoop his ass. I think I fractured one of the dudes rips. Smitty had him in headlock. The fight got broken up. The dude was kicked out. The bouncer then tells us the dude is waiting for the bus down the street. Smitty and I walk down there and, well, lets just say there was a pool of blood left over after that whoopin.
Smitty and I walked back in the bar and ordered more beer like nothing happened. Never saw that dude again. Or how bout the time some Mexican chick took me and Johnny 3 Tears home on Christmas night and tried to have sex with me. She was aching for a breaking. I refused her most tempting offer and she quickly jumped on Mr. 3’s lap.
Wally and I use to call it Mos Eisly Space Port. And it’s true, You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than at the Powerhouse. Black Midgets who wear gold chains and tag graffiti, Punk rock chicks. Mexican gang bangers, Skateboarders, Cowboys, hobos, homos and hustlers. And by some strange twist of reality we all got along. It was a dive bar of great adventure, where you might actually win a badge like a boy scout for your jacket if you actually dared to take a shit in the bathroom.
There was a common understanding at the Powerhouse. You were there because you felt outta place everywhere else. I want to thank Rhett the bartender for his hospitality, Jim for letting me and Duster from UA paint the walls in the back and all the free shots of whiskey, and Tommy the bartender for always being cool as fuck. In a perfect world I would be rich and start a new Powerhouse bar somewhere very close to the old one, and hire you guys in a heartbeat. But unfortunately my town is turning into sports bars, protein boys, and foreigners looking to make a higher profit. And Hollywood’s history and integrity must suffer that consequence.
Monday night, we go out with a bang.