O Caritas
Hi Dive
And so we’ve had another night of poetry and poses
And each man knows he’ll be alone when the sacred gin mill closes.
Dave Van Ronk – Last Call
I’m not familiar with the Hi Dive. For all I know, it might be a joint that caters to tourists. But in this light, and with that 1930s architecture, it looks like a welcoming working class waterfront dive. In other words, exactly the sort of place Dave van Ronk would have enjoyed. He was a folk singer, Dave van Ronk, and a bluesman, and a jazz artists, and philosopher — the sort of guy who was equally at home writing a song about the whores of San Pedro and quoting from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
I have a thing for bars and saloons located on or near working harbors. They’re a little rough, not quite safe, and vastly entertaining — largely because you’ll find folks like Van Ronk planted on bar stools, drinking the heart out of a Tuesday afternoon. You’ll hear stories and lies, and with any luck you won’t be able to tell them apart. You’ll hear songs and curses and complaints and occasionally a universal truth.
It’s hard to find dive bars like that anymore. They may only exist now in my memory, and my memory has can’t always be trusted. But like to think those sacred gin mills still exist, and that Van Ronkian poet-philosophers can still be found in them.
Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
“When all the Temple is prepared within,
Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted–“Open, then, the Door!
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more.
Edward Fitzgerald – The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
