It was July or August of 1970 when I found out I wouldn't be drafted into the armed forces of this great nation. So I resigned from my prestigious job at the Daytona Beach greyhound racetrack and headed to Dallas to see if I could find a real job.
One of my very best college buddies, Wayne Don, had briefly introduced me to a guy named Bones who was probably his best friend. If WD liked him I knew I would to. Bones was living in Dallas so I gave him a jingle to see if he would like to grab a beer.
We wound up down at Adair's Bar & Grill on Cedar Springs. That was before the prostitutes and eventually the gay crowd took over that area.
I'm sure a lot of you older dudes have been to Adair's. It was a dive of the highest order. They swept the place out bout once every nine months and it looked like they had remodeled. The old C & W juke box was pure gold. I'd have to believe some of you guys have been there before they moved to Deep Ellum.
Those great big ole pitchers of beer were $1.10. Bones and I were there every Monday thru Thursday for 6 months sucking down beer and wearing out the pin ball machine. We loved the damn place. Met some cool people there even some women. (Couldn't believe some would come there without a date.)
Bones and I were starting to get a little bored with the pinball so we discovered a dive across the street, Gabby's Longhorn. We both hated the name but they had a good barroom shuffleboard table there. The Longhorn catered to a somewhat older crowd and the jukebox wasn't up to snuff compared to Adair's; but the place became our new hangout on account of that shuffleboard table.
Upon our arrival Bones would immediately head to the juke box. He'd place a hand on each corner and lean on the box while he starred at the selections for about 15 minutes. Then he would play "Is Anybody Going to San Antone" by Charlie Pride 3 times. What cracked me up was he went thru this same ritual about every time we went there which was every weekday night for a couple of years or so.
There was a guy in there we called 'the Chin' which neither one of us will ever forget. He had a permanent spot down at the end of the bar. We called him 'the Chin' for the damnedest reason, he didn't have one. It looked like it had been torn off from just below his lower lip all the way back to his neck at a very slight angle. That area and his neck were badly scarred. We felt for the guy.
It was a struggle for him to drink beer but that didn't slow him down. He'd hold a towel against a glass and the front of his neck. Then he'd throw his head back real fast and start chugging. We knew not to be anywhere around him when he was about to "throw" one down.
It wasn't long before Bones and I became the best shuffleboard players in the entire Dallas area. At least we thought so until Earl and Burl staggered in there one night. Holy cow.
Burl was damn good; but I never saw anything like Earl. You could have a deep puck down there perfectly covered and Earl somehow could curve his shot around you cover, knock your deep one off the table, and stick his. He would always knock yours off and his would stick at least 90% of the time. Unbelievable.
This should be impossible to do as the table was well dusted so there was very little friction. I watched Earl very closely and he was not spitting on the bottom of the puck. The sob was an artist. Me and Bones were great players; but Earl and Burl probably beat us around 65% of the times we played. We took it pretty hard, me and Bones. Earl and Burl enjoyed playing (beating) us and became semi-regulars at Gabby's.
Bones and I staggered into the place early one evening and couldn't understand why it was so crowded especially back by the shuffleboard table. Turned out there was a high-stakes game going on back there with Earl & Burl were nowhere in sight.
We were licking our chops till we found out they were playing horse collar rather than shuffleboard. We hadn't played hardly any horse collar, so we were intimidated and got the hell out of there with our wallets intact. Naturally, we headed straight across the street to Adair's.
Damned if Adair's hadn't put in a shuffleboard table. We started playing and drinking a significant amount of beer as was our custom. The table was ours all night as nobody could beat us so we controlled it.
I was feeling the beer and we were red hot; so I look up as I am about to slide a puck down the table and I say to Bones, "We're just warming up for the bastards across the street. Let's go beat em at their own game."
We only thought we were hot over at Adair's. All the beer had released endorphins and we started kicking ass at a game we'd hardly ever played. We were about $400.00 up on the guys we'd were playing at the last. It was nearly closing time, so those guys wanted to play the last game double or nothing.
They had the cash, so we agreed to the bet. We were still red hot and felt like world beaters. Unfortunately, I lost us that last game on the very last shot. It still kind of sticks in my craw.
But we did walk out of there with a significant amount of cash that we'd won from other guys. An additional $800 sure would've been nice though. Seems like yesterday, but it was 50 years ago.
Bones had a gal he was living with at the time, so I don't see how he got by with all this. He would drive us over there most every time. Guess he didn't trust my driving. Neither one of us ever said a word to each other when we were driving over. Just quiet guys I guess; but when we got there we talked each others asses off.
Kinda funny. Ya call a guy to grab a beer and it turns into three years of drinking beer four or five nights a week for three years. Man, it was fun. He and I and Wayne Don are still close friends to this day. Sorry about my long diatribe.
One of my very best college buddies, Wayne Don, had briefly introduced me to a guy named Bones who was probably his best friend. If WD liked him I knew I would to. Bones was living in Dallas so I gave him a jingle to see if he would like to grab a beer.
We wound up down at Adair's Bar & Grill on Cedar Springs. That was before the prostitutes and eventually the gay crowd took over that area.
I'm sure a lot of you older dudes have been to Adair's. It was a dive of the highest order. They swept the place out bout once every nine months and it looked like they had remodeled. The old C & W juke box was pure gold. I'd have to believe some of you guys have been there before they moved to Deep Ellum.
Those great big ole pitchers of beer were $1.10. Bones and I were there every Monday thru Thursday for 6 months sucking down beer and wearing out the pin ball machine. We loved the damn place. Met some cool people there even some women. (Couldn't believe some would come there without a date.)
Bones and I were starting to get a little bored with the pinball so we discovered a dive across the street, Gabby's Longhorn. We both hated the name but they had a good barroom shuffleboard table there. The Longhorn catered to a somewhat older crowd and the jukebox wasn't up to snuff compared to Adair's; but the place became our new hangout on account of that shuffleboard table.
Upon our arrival Bones would immediately head to the juke box. He'd place a hand on each corner and lean on the box while he starred at the selections for about 15 minutes. Then he would play "Is Anybody Going to San Antone" by Charlie Pride 3 times. What cracked me up was he went thru this same ritual about every time we went there which was every weekday night for a couple of years or so.
There was a guy in there we called 'the Chin' which neither one of us will ever forget. He had a permanent spot down at the end of the bar. We called him 'the Chin' for the damnedest reason, he didn't have one. It looked like it had been torn off from just below his lower lip all the way back to his neck at a very slight angle. That area and his neck were badly scarred. We felt for the guy.
It was a struggle for him to drink beer but that didn't slow him down. He'd hold a towel against a glass and the front of his neck. Then he'd throw his head back real fast and start chugging. We knew not to be anywhere around him when he was about to "throw" one down.
It wasn't long before Bones and I became the best shuffleboard players in the entire Dallas area. At least we thought so until Earl and Burl staggered in there one night. Holy cow.
Burl was damn good; but I never saw anything like Earl. You could have a deep puck down there perfectly covered and Earl somehow could curve his shot around you cover, knock your deep one off the table, and stick his. He would always knock yours off and his would stick at least 90% of the time. Unbelievable.
This should be impossible to do as the table was well dusted so there was very little friction. I watched Earl very closely and he was not spitting on the bottom of the puck. The sob was an artist. Me and Bones were great players; but Earl and Burl probably beat us around 65% of the times we played. We took it pretty hard, me and Bones. Earl and Burl enjoyed playing (beating) us and became semi-regulars at Gabby's.
Bones and I staggered into the place early one evening and couldn't understand why it was so crowded especially back by the shuffleboard table. Turned out there was a high-stakes game going on back there with Earl & Burl were nowhere in sight.
We were licking our chops till we found out they were playing horse collar rather than shuffleboard. We hadn't played hardly any horse collar, so we were intimidated and got the hell out of there with our wallets intact. Naturally, we headed straight across the street to Adair's.
Damned if Adair's hadn't put in a shuffleboard table. We started playing and drinking a significant amount of beer as was our custom. The table was ours all night as nobody could beat us so we controlled it.
I was feeling the beer and we were red hot; so I look up as I am about to slide a puck down the table and I say to Bones, "We're just warming up for the bastards across the street. Let's go beat em at their own game."
We only thought we were hot over at Adair's. All the beer had released endorphins and we started kicking ass at a game we'd hardly ever played. We were about $400.00 up on the guys we'd were playing at the last. It was nearly closing time, so those guys wanted to play the last game double or nothing.
They had the cash, so we agreed to the bet. We were still red hot and felt like world beaters. Unfortunately, I lost us that last game on the very last shot. It still kind of sticks in my craw.
But we did walk out of there with a significant amount of cash that we'd won from other guys. An additional $800 sure would've been nice though. Seems like yesterday, but it was 50 years ago.
Bones had a gal he was living with at the time, so I don't see how he got by with all this. He would drive us over there most every time. Guess he didn't trust my driving. Neither one of us ever said a word to each other when we were driving over. Just quiet guys I guess; but when we got there we talked each others asses off.
Kinda funny. Ya call a guy to grab a beer and it turns into three years of drinking beer four or five nights a week for three years. Man, it was fun. He and I and Wayne Don are still close friends to this day. Sorry about my long diatribe.
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