That's right, smoking is banned in all bars. Establishments where adults 21 years of age and over have made the free-thinking decision to hang out at, even if there are plumes of smoke surrounding them. Those who choose to purchase tobacco, a legal product, and enjoy it in an environment where the owner of the property has allowed smoking will now be shown the door. As a side-effect, of course, the persons who would elect not to be around smoke in a bar are now forced to walk through large conglomerates of rowdy, drunken smokers occupying narrow sidewalks.
There were some hideously awesome dive bars in Portland. Tony's Tavern (below), with its seasoned imibers enjoying Rainier and cigarettes, where the food only comes in plain hot dog form. The Marathon Taverna, where the budget-minded drunkard can get a mini-pitcher of High Life and breakfast for under four bucks. Without the acquired fragrance of tobacco smoke to mask it, what do you suppose the Yamhill Pub will smell like? The answer, of course, is ass. Fear not; these bars will still exist. They will just be upgraded from dive bar status to watering hole, or tavern, maybe. What are the qualifications for a bar to be considered dive? There are a few that come to mind: the coin-operated juke box (bonus points for anything Iggy); pints of the lowest tier beer for a buck; bathroom stalls painted black and covered in graffiti that's written in liquid white-out pen; mechanical machines mounted on the wall that vend mini naked lady cards and condom extenders (saw one called the Night Stalker).
One requirement of dive status is clouds of cigarette pollution in the air and black plastic trays filled with crumpled-up filters and the mashed ends of spent American Spirits. That's the way we liked it, The Nanny, and you took that special brand of charm away from us. And so, the Portland dive bar goes the way of the Dodo, and your rights vanish into a puff of, yes, smoke. Them's the rules.
Funny thing is, I don't remember being offered the opportunity to vote on this issue. Oh yeah, we weren't given the luxury. I've listened to the various arguments and veered both ways on the issue, weaving left and right (sometimes literally, like after a night at Wimpy's.) A bar is a workplace for some after all, and why should the employees be subjected to the smoke? But... it's a workplace that was already filled with smoke when they walked in looking for a job. I can understand some people not wanting to have smoke thrusted upon them, in their burgundy ascots and hair and gorilla fur vests - but that's why they invented, like, Henry's Tavern, right? And all the other smoke-free bars, which were undoubtedly benefitting from their smoking counterparts by catering to a market that desired superior air. The selection of smoke-free bars was rapidly expanding on its own. Huber's, Portland's oldest bar, finally went non-smoking last year, Le Happy the year before. XV began allowing smoke only until 9pm, and most new establishments didn't want any of it.
Many of those who smoke don't seem to mind stepping outside. They'll shrug and say, "I should probably quit, anyway. The smoking ban will probably help." Oh, you may quit smoking, buddy-boy. But you'll also be quitting a slice of your freedom... cold turkey.
Next up on The Nanny's (not to be confused with Hulk Hogan's Mr. Nanny) list of vices to take away from fully grown human beings with minds of their own? Sparks. If you've never had the pleasure, imagine a can of alcoholic Fanta, but more magical and delivered in a tin vessel resembling a battery. Now, dump in a couple of No-Doz tablets, and 57 individual Smarties (which would probably fizz as they dissolve). Now, pour some pixie dust diligently collected from passed out sugarplum ferries. Throw in some taurine (latin for ox bile) for no apparent reason, and you have yourself a Sparks.
Except, now you'll have to take out the caffeine and taurine (which actually may prevent liver disease and reduce cirrhosis according to lab tests - thanks for looking out for us, Nan!), and get rid of the attractive and sleek battery can design - we can't have adult beverages looking cool or the teens might become interested. Which is what happened, and when high school students were drinking it in class, the teachers not knowing it contains alcohol (except for the 20-point text on the side of the can that states, CONTAINS ALCOHOL), a bunch of states sued the company that bought Sparks, Steel Brewing, claiming they were advertising to minors. The pussies over at Steel caved, and as part of the deal will be ruining the drink forever.
As for me, I will miss Sparks and treasure the serendipitous nights it kicked off. Like the night two people - similar but legally distict from me and my girlfriend - walked across the Burnside Bridge sporting sparks on the way to a John Vanderslice concert... Halloween nights, New Years Eves, Tuesdays and Fridays... They just won't be the same. I will have to find a safer beverage that The Nanny (not to be confused with Fran Drescher) approves of. Back to orange-flavored Mad Dogg for me...
