The Great American Saloon Series/Capital Beer at the Union Jack
Bakshian, Aram Jr.
THE GREAT AMERICAN SALOON SERIES CAPITAL BEER AT THE UNION JACK A s you might expect, Washington, D.C., where nearly everyone is either a primary or secondary parasite of the federal government,...
...As John Prokoff, the master dispenser who presided over the old Members Bar at the National Press Club for nearly thirty years, used to say, their motto is, "Get drunk and be somebody...
...Boy, do they feel sorry for themselves, twenty-four hours a day...
...the capital is awash in drunks, but they are an altogether different breed...
...reign...
...You never know who you'll bump into...
...34 THE AMERICAN SPECTATOR JANUARY 1991 Depending on the time of the day, week, or year, you may meet politicians, graduate students, bike messengers, war-garners, Morris dancers, Morgan collectors (the car, not the horse), or a gaggle of geography teachers in town for a convocation at the nearby National Geographic Society (one such group presented me with an inflatable globe after an impromptugeography quiz...
...Punching Bags don't ask much...
...And when the screen doors of the Union Jack are finally drawn shut by Osman, the crack senior barman (an Afghan who would be practicing medicine today but for the late unpleasantness in his homeland, and who speaks much better English than most of his American customers), you can always toddle a few blocks northwestward for a slightly more upmarket nightcap at another of Washington's few great watering holes, the Fairfax Bar at the Ritz Carlton, of which more in a future number of this journal...
...Alas, the Members Bar of the National Press Club today is but a pale shadow of its former self, remodeled into what one indignant veteran describes as an "imitation Best Western cocktail lounge...
...not a single shot was fired in anger...
...Tndeed, "catholic" is the word for the Union Jack clientele: conservative think-tankers from the neighboring American Enterprise Institute often sitting cheek-by-jowl with their Brookings counterparts, Iranian emigres (occasionally including a gentlemanly Persian who played a major role in the Iran-contra hearings), assorted politicos, and the nicer sort of out-of-town business and holiday visitors attracted to a quiet, smartly run suite hotel like the Canterbury rather than the mega-glitter caravanserais favored by vulgarians with fat expense accounts...
...hotel on quiet N Street just one block east of Connecticut Avenue, the Union Jack is centrally but discreetly located...
...While the Union Jack does a brisk business with a loyal core clientele, it is not, thank God, on the tourist or trendy route...
...Don't get me wrong...
...The root problem may be Washington's chronic shortage of good drinkers...
...In the April 1974 issue of The American Spectator, in one of the first installments of this series, I described such a spot...
...Time was when the Capital City could boast many such places...
...Luckily, it happened in October, and Washington is famous for its gentle autumns...
...At least one decent little pub has recently come onto the scene that provides full bar service and an outstanding selection of domestic and imported beers, including Young's, Harp, and Oxford—a tasty local dark brew—on tap at only $2.50 a pint...
...We all know at least one of these sad sacks, destined to go through life with a psychic "Kick Me" sign on their backs...
...These pathetic chumps just want to feel important—which, for insurmountable reasons, they can't do while sobriety and reality...
...Unless, that is, they come into chance collision with a 'Pipe 4 (see below...
...I vividly recall one Washington-based British correspondent of my acquaintance (let us call him "Willy Loathsome") who actually faded into a fitful slumber, lost his lunch, and was then hauled out of a bar and deposited on the pavement without ever regaining consciousness...
...The encounter was all the more enjoyable since I was accompanied by "Gannon the Cannon," a dyed-in-the-wool Irish Catholic weighing nearly 300 pounds...
...Authentic—for some, all too much so—fish and chips are available until at least 9:00, and there is a first-rate restaurant, Chaucer's, downstairs in the hotel...
...Even the best-regulated of Washington drinking places will have its share of all of the above...
...they just want to be punched in the nose...
...Most Whinos are either male wimps Aram Bakshian, Jr., a member of the National Council on the Humanities, writes and broadcasts on politics, history, and the arts...
...On a really good day, they may manage a threein-one...
...4) The Punchbowl Punching Bags...
...For discerning beer drinkers, however, there is a light at the end of the funnel...
...Add to this a dollop of expatriate Brits, a smattering of Canadians and Australians from neighboring diplomatic missions, and a usually minimal measure of Type 1-5 Washington drunks, and you have the makings of as good a saloon evening as you're likely to find anywhere in the Nation's Capital...
...with good degrees and lousy jobs or resentfully woozy women in their middle thirties and beyond who (a) have a career but no children, (b) have children but no career, or (c) have both, but still rail at their fate...
...The nation's capital has the highest per capita rate of alcohol consumption in the Republic and is pitted with singles bars, disco bars, power bars, jazz bars, sushi bars, gay bars, sports bars, biker bars, black bars, Latino bars, country western bars, piano bars, topless bars, and, lately, even tapas bars...
...While the beams, rafters, and stucco may remind some of Stockbroker Tudor, an authentically lived-in (not to mention drunk-in) atmosphere prevails and the customer mix—at the bar, by the dartboard, or seated on just-sufficiently-threadbare imitation Sheraton chairs at small Regency roundtables—is about as good as it gets in Washington...
...The conversation can still be good and the bartenders are pros, but it just isn't the mecca of civilized saloonery that it used to be...
...On a somewhat louder occasion I found myself seated with a jolly band of Glasgow and Ulster rugby enthusiasts celebrating a hometown win...
...2) The Whinos...
...Long may it remain so...
...Like an American Indian chug-alugging his first fifth of firewater, these quietly offensive characters come to a bar to guzzle until they fall asleep, vomit, or are ejected...
...THE GREAT AMERICAN SALOON SERIES CAPITAL BEER AT THE UNION JACK A s you might expect, Washington, D.C., where nearly everyone is either a primary or secondary parasite of the federal government, is not the ideal spot for really good watering holes...
...Marshalls closed its doors in the spring of 1990 through loss of lease rather than customers, and so far nothing has filled its special void...
...Housed in the Canterbury, a small, well-run suite by Aram Bakshian, Jr...
...ou just have to know where, and when, to go...
...But there are precious few saloons really worthy of the name, congenial spots an intelligent drinker can comfortably settle into...
...True enough, there are plenty of mediocre bars...
...Their common bond is their incurable obscurity...
...What they really want to do is punch someone in the nose, not drink, which is just their way of getting up the courage to uncork their pent-up aggression...
...They turned out to be excellent company once I gave them an accurate description of the Battle of the Boyne (with a particularly moving account of the death of Marshall Schomberg) and agreed to sing a verse of "The Sash My Father Wore...
...The only hitch is, they can't give full vent to their self-pity on the job, at home, or while sober, at least not as blatantly or brassily as when soaked...
...More importantly, when you do, the surprise is usually a pleasant one...
...This class consists largely of junior congressional aides, yuppie lawyers, brokers, and flacks, journalists manquis, and visiting firemen out on a toot they wouldn't dare to contemplate back home in Cornbread County...
...Fortunately, they usually lack the guts and motor coordination to connect...
...After serving lunch, the Union Jack reopens at 5:30, Monday through Saturday, and closes, at least in theory, at 11:00 p.m...
...Unlike the Rambos, theirs is a more modest objective, easily attained at the hands of a larger, slightly less sozzled drunk, or a decent drinker whose wife/girlfriend/sister/daughter they have made a pathetic—and usually platonic—pass at...
...A total rather than a partial loss is Marshalls, a rambling old wood-paneled saloon on upper Pennsylvania Avenue where writers, stagehands, jocks, airline stewardesses, politicos, and amiable riff-raff used to rub elbows in easy camaraderie...
...3) The Ranting Rambos...
...The point is that they are bearable—rather like a tolerable bacteria count—when countered by a sufficient number of sound, congenial drinkers, presided over by able management in pleasant surroundings...
...5) The Garbage-In-Garbage-Outers...
...One evening, I fell into conversation with a rather attractive vegetarian cantoress (sic) from California's leading Reform synagogue who was in town for an animal rights rally but was otherwise quite nice and apparently sane...
...Even in Washington, Samuel Johnson's maxim holds true—that there is "nothing which has yet been contrived by man by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn...
...drunks, while there are hybrids, fall (I use the verb advisedly) into five major categories: (1) The Hey-Look-At-Me's...
Vol. 24 • January 1991 • No. 1
