Kirt Vocals

A Manifesto for the Revitalization of Edmonton’s Pub Culture Or The Tom’s Little Havanafication of Edmonton’s Pub Culture

kirtvocals — Sat, 05 Jun 2010 14:13:10 +0000

Edmonton’s pub culture is dying. In the past five years we have seen a slow but steady decline in the number of drinking establishments that can properly call themselves pubs. This isn’t to say that the pubs themselves have disappeared. Many still exist in the same location. However, they merely call themselves pubs in spite of the fact that they have become something other than true pubs. They are wolves in sheep’s clothing and they aren’t fooling anybody. Some of us come from cities with vibrant, diverse bar scenes where bar owners realize that there is room for everyone. It makes living in Edmonton very difficult.

Admittedly, the competition in Edmonton is fierce. “The Copper Mile” should rightly be called “The Drunken Mile” due to the number of bars along Whyte Avenue. The problem is that everybody is trying to compete by chasing after the same crowd and doing exactly the same things. Imagine that a city’s bar scene is like a hockey team. In most cities, a number of skilled players (bars) will compete to play each of the positions (niches) and they will focus on playing just that position. This makes for a winning team. In Edmonton, everybody tries to play the forward positions, competing among themselves for centre ice. Only a few skinny, uncoordinated band geeks, who can barely skate, even attempt to play the other positions on the team.* * As a result, Team Edmonton is losing and losing badly.

As Lenin famously asked, “What is to be done?”
“Well, let’s talk about that,” as Alfred N. Tyce less famously suggested.

There is a bar in Halifax, Nova Scotia called Tom’s Little Havana. It is, perhaps, the finest bar in creation (if you’ll forgive the slight hyperbole). For our purposes we may call it a perfect pub. We submit Tom’s Little Havana as a template for what should happen in Edmonton to revitalize its dying pub culture (“What is ‘pub culture’?” you may be stupidly asking. Read on and you will find out). We call out to some enterprising man or woman to open a bar and bring about a Tom’s Little Havanafication in Edmonton. We are willing to bet a month’s wages that your venture will be successful. All you must do is follow the following formula:
• Location: You may have a lovely bar but if you open it in the middle of nowhere (or the middle of skid row) your business will not thrive. Try for somewhere on or near Whyte Avenue or Jasper Avenue. It doesn’t have to be right on the Avenues. In fact, your business will benefit from being a street or two removed from the main drags as this will allow you to provide a small patio for patrons to enjoy their drinks and the evening air without suffering the din and dust of traffic and being harassed by panhandlers or jersey wearing dipshits on their way to watch “the game”.
• Size: This does matter but not in the way that you think it does. “Cozy” is our watchword here. Big is not better. Anybody with a passing knowledge of crowd psychology can tell you why. Your servers, standing at the bar, should have a clear line of sight to all tables in the establishment. Your bar should hold roughly twelve tables. At least two of these tables should provide an “intimate area” for a person to enjoy a date with another person, and the other tables should seat at least four people, while making sure that it is possible to put tables together to accommodate crowds of six or eight. “The bar” should accommodate five or six people comfortably. A booth or two are also nice. If you want a large capacity space, you’re not our kind of person, but more importantly you should think about this: a smaller space (especially if it isn’t right on the avenue) will mean less rent and more money in your pocket.
• Music: Any idiot without hearing damage can tell you what is an appropriate volume for your music. Too low makes for a sombre and depressing atmosphere. Too loud will make your customers leave early. Remember: Your patrons are there because they enjoy conversation and the company of their fellows. They will not spend the evening texting people who aren’t there and ignoring those that are. A proper music volume is vital to allow this conversation. Forget the old wives tale of bar management that loud music makes people drink more. It simply doesn’t. They will drink more because they enjoy your bar and they enjoy drinking, not because the music is loud. Loud music will make them leave. The guys that like loud, ear-bleedingly bad music don’t drink that much. They’re saving their money for clothes, phone upgrades, and stereo systems for their $30,000 trucks. The girls that like that music want to dance. Do you have a dance floor? Nope. The type of music you play is equally important. Be aware of your crowd. It is safe to say that a multi-disc player with at least one Rolling Stones album will not go amiss. Mix it up a bit, but don’t get carried away. NO LIVE MUSIC! You don’t have the venue for this. Most of this live music consists of some dude with a Casio and a saxophone doing Van Morrison covers. Don’t go there.
• Atmosphere: Strive for a clean, well-lighted place (there’s a good name for your bar too, A Clean, Well-Lighted Place (you don’t even have to think up a name!)). Do you know what “well-lighted” means (You’re probably thinking, “Shouldn’t that be ‘well-lit’?” You are wrong)? Warm, soft lighting is what you need. You want clean, but not anti-septic. Avoid too much metal. Nobody wants to feel like they’re in a hospital, or a Tim Horton’s. Wood is good. Go for dark brown colours.
• Beer and Drinks: TAKE CARE OF YOUR LINES! Make sure that they are clean and well-maintained. Why would somebody want to pay up to $6 for a skunky, flat beer? Offer a good selection of beer. Nobody in your place wants to drink Molson Canadian or Kokanee. Make sure that your staff are true mixologists. Nothing is more depressing than asking for a Mint Julep or a White Russian and receiving a blank stare. Have at least one good Scotch and one good whiskey available. They will be used.
• Food: Have a small but tasty and interesting menu. Make sure that the items are easy to prepare. Have a competent cook. If the cook is off sick make sure that your manager can cover the basics. Don’t turn people away hungry. If your cook is sick a lot. Get a new cook.
• Staff: Ideally, you should be an owner/operator. The money that you would have to pay to someone else will go right into your pocket. But know what you’re doing. If you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t want to be in the trenches, hire somebody who is capable of managing your bar and make sure that they are there enough to keep an eye on things. Such things would include your staff. Do they know what they’re doing? Make sure that he/she (the manager) has made sure. Surly servers are only funny on “Seinfeld”. Nobody really likes them. There should be three servers (including yourself or your manager) at peak periods. That’s four tables per server and easily manageable. Waiting fifteen to twenty minutes for a drink is a sure way to make a person want to go home and drink. Scantily clad waitresses are fine for some places, but remember that yours is not one of those places. A woman can be attractive, even sexy, and attract customers without demeaning her by making her dress like a prostitute. If you doubt us, we will send you pictures that will prove this. We would like them to be friendly and competent rather than creating the illusion that they might fuck us.
• TV: NO TVs! NONE! NOT EVEN ONE! We haven’t gone out for drinks with our friends so that we can watch TV. We could do that at home. Also, now brace yourself, it may shock you to hear this but there is a decent segment of the population who don’t give a rat’s ass about hockey, soccer, football, baseball, golf (My god! Golf?), UFC, or any other sport, for that matter. Again, if we wanted to watch a game with our friends we could just buy some beers and stay home. People who do, for mysterious reasons, want to go out with their friends and watch “the game” at a bar have a plethora of options . People who do not do not. Besides, why do you want all of that testosterone fueled aggression in your place? Why do you want all of that shouting and rivalry and the potential for destruction in or around your establishment if the home team wins (or doesn’t win)? You don’t.
• Clientele: Your bar will naturally attract a certain sort of customer. We won’t go into what sort of customer this is lest we be accused of some sort of snobbery. But you know what we’re saying. This is nothing but a good thing. They will pay their bills. They will tip well. They’ll probably eat something (well, most of them will). They won’t get into fights (well, most of them won’t). They won’t wreck the place. They’ll be a pleasure to do business with. If you find that other elements are infiltrating your bar, there are subtle ways of making them feel unwelcome. Slow or nonexistent service is the best option. Ultimately, though, your bar will do all the work of discouraging them. This is directly related to “Atmosphere”, “Music” and “TVs”. Most importantly: NO VLTs!
• Washrooms: Keep them clean and well maintained, just like your lines. The first sign of a declining drinking establishment is a foul washroom. Remember: You’re sort of in the business of making people have to use the can. Make it a nice experience as well.

If you follow all of these guidelines, we can assure you with great certainty, and the example of Tom’s Little Havana, that your business will be a success. And, we will thank you with our money.

** There are some who will point out that there are bars in Edmonton that resemble actual pubs. We can even say with some degree of accuracy which bars they will name. However, all of these establishments fail to meet many of the criteria outlined above. Name names and we will tell you how they have failed to meet the standards of Tom’s Little Havanafication.

Canadian Singers Are Liars

kirtvocals — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 20:09:20 +0000

Somebody has to speak up about this. If we don’t cast some light on the lies that these “National Treasures” have been spreading, they’ll just keep getting away with it. We have to think of the children.

1. Anne Murray does not want to sing me a love song. Trust me.
2. Sarah McLachlan will not be the one to hold me down and kiss me so hard. She’ll actually ask the management to have me removed if it is even suggested.
3. The Bare Naked Ladies do not once mention coke or hookers in “If I Had a Million Dollars”.
4. Joni Mitchell never opened a tree museum. If she ever gets around to it I bet her admission will be higher than she claims, too.
5. Everybody does not know that that’s how it goes, Leonard.
6. Alanis Morrisette does not know what irony is, ironically. Also, it is often too hot and very often too cold.
7. Nelly Furtado is nothing like a bird and she has never flown away.
8. Stan Rogers was never one of Barrett’s privateers. He made the whole damn thing up.
9. The man in the moon is not a newfie. To say that the idea is goofy is putting it mildly (I have even begun to suspect that there is no man in the moon at all).
10. Paul Anka did not do it his way.
11. I can’t make out most of what Celine Dion says but I’m sure it’s all lies.
12. Shania Twain is impressed very easily.
13. The Tragically Hip are not only liars but they are also panic mongers. New Orleans was not sinking at the time that they claimed it was. They were off by a good fifteen years.
14. Randy Bachman does not take sugar in his coffee.
15. Nickelback claims to be a rock band.

Most Idiotic and Annoying Songs Ever

kirtvocals — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 20:07:27 +0000

1. “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”
2.”My Humps”
3. “Oooo, come along. I got a dollar in my pocket for ya and you can have it if ya want it” (A song so stupid and annoying that it is impossible to find the name of the song or the band that played it in Google)
4. “Hypnotize” (Notorious B.I.G)
5. “Since You’ve Been Gone”
6. “Do the Bartman”
7. Achy Breaky Heart
8. “Macarena”
9. I’m Too Sexy
10. Santa Baby
11. Any song by Nickelback
12. Anything “Emo” or “Neo-Punk” (with the exception of several Green Day songs)

This Blog Sucks Part II

kirtvocals — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 16:47:43 +0000

Facebook wasn’t to blame. It was Scrabulous. Let’s hope the demise of that time eater will lead to creative productivity.

This Blog Sucks

kirtvocals — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 02:28:31 +0000

I blame Facebook.

What are you, some kind of comedian?

kirtvocals — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 18:05:52 +0000

I have been inspired to try my hand at stand-up comedy. People usually consider me a pretty funny guy and I enjoy making people laugh. I’m having trouble writing material, though. I’m much better at improv than at scripted stuff. I figure a good routine breaks down into four or five topics. So, I’m going to borrow from the improv world and ask my audience (you, the reader) for topics to riff on. Then I’ll invite you all to an open mic night at a comedy club and you can see how I do. Deal?

The Mystery of the Mysterious Mystery: A Sam Raymond Mystery

kirtvocals — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 19:27:50 +0000

Chapter 1

It was dark. Real dark. So dark that the street lights had to work overtime to light the streets. The street lights and I had a lot in common: tall, skinny, only useful for our top parts, and I too was working overtime to shed some light on the streets. But on this dark night I had to admit to myself that Jimmy “Peg Tooth” Boland was as disappeared as the dinosaurs, and me with only a few fossils and a toothbrush to unearth the truth. The case had led me to a dead end street; a cul de sac marked with a large “no exit” sign. It was cold too; the case and the night.

One week and one day before I was sitting in my second floor office above the bike shop on Whyte, googling a guy named John Bayard. An insurance company had hired me to prove that his disability claim was fraudulent. That’s the kind of work you get if you’re a PI in Edmonton. Nothing terribly glamorous. Insurance companies, collection agencies, suspicious spouses, and concerned parents. But it was my bread and butter so I didn’t mind it. Google was giving me nothing on the guy. I kept getting hits for some Frenchman who wrote a book about not reading books. I found this pretty funny, but not too helpful.

I’ve often considered moving to a larger space. One with two rooms. A room for my office and a room for a reception area and a receptionist. But my student loan payments and the support payments to my ex made the expenses of a new place and an employee impossible. I had also been meaning to install a buzzer and intercom system, but had never quite gotten around to it. The problem I had was with street people wandering in off the street. Drunks, druggies, and panhandlers would often stumble into my office looking for a toilet or a place to rob. Whoopleheads, I call them, like on “Deadwood”. Edmonton’s a lot like “Deadwood” except not quite as interesting. Whoopleheads were a nuisance that wasted my time and left the place smelling awful for hours afterward. I had just about given up on Google when one such nuisance opened my office door and strolled in.

She wore a dirty, blue and pink nylon windbreaker, a dirty white t-shirt, dirty gray sweatpants, and a pair of muddy work boots. She could have been anywhere from thirty to fifty years old. It was hard to tell. Her face was leathery and saggy and covered in sores or pimples. Her teeth would have made a corpse puke. Her hair would have made a rat reconsider its nesting options. She looked around the office through bloodshot eyes and pulled a skeptical face.

I made shooing motions with my hands. “There’s no bathroom and no money on the premises,” I said tiredly. “Take a hike.”

“Is this the PI office?” she said.

“You’re looking for the EI office. It’s not here,” I said, gesturing again towards the door.

“No. I’m lookin’ for the private investigator. Sam Raymond Investigations. Where is it?”

“This is it.”

She made that skeptical face again. “This is it? Are you Raymond?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look like a PI.”

“You don’t look like a client. What were you expecting? Tom Selleck?”

“I don’t know. Anyways, I need to hire you. My old man is missing. I want you to find him.”

“I do charge a substantial daily fee, you know.”

She pulled a freezer bag full of coins and a dirty wad of bills out of her fanny pack.

“I’ll pay you fifty bucks and as many blowjobs as you want,” she said nonchalantly. “I’d offer you screws too but my plumbin’s all fucked up.”

I did the hand waving thing again and tried to get the images out of my head. “I only accept cash or credit cards. And it’s more than fifty bucks a day,” I said, trying not to gag.

She sat down in the chair on the other side of my desk before I could stop her. “Well, what the fuck? You don’t accept fair trade? Jesus Christ. How about you call it charity work? Then you can claim it on your taxes or something.”

“That would have to be a certified charitable organization. I don’t think you qualify.”

She stuffed her money back in her pack angrily. “You’re an asshole,” she announced, and got up and slammed out of the office.

I sighed heavily and then regreted it because of the resulting inhalation. She left a wicked hum behind her which I will not attempt to describe because I don’t want to recall it that clearly. I lit a cigarette, hoping that it would cover the stench (I’m not suposed to smoke in my office but I do anyway. Let them fine me). The cigarette didn’t help so I pulled a can of air freshener out of my desk drawer and sprayed the room liberally. Then I found the Yellow Pages and looked for someone to install a buzzer system.

The intercom system cost me an arm and a leg and a few fingers and toes, but the guy showed up that afternoon, which is really good service for this city. He was a nice guy. We chatted while he worked. He was from Ghana but he spoke beautiful English. He told me he was a doctor back home. It doesn’t even surprise me anymore. I don’t even know how many university educated waiters, plumbers, and taxi drivers I’ve run into. And they’re not always foreigners. He worked quickly and efficiently and he seemed to do a good job. He showed me how to work it, and then wished me a good day and left. I was pretty pleased with the new set up so I celebrated with a cigarette. I surfed the web for a bit and then decided to call it a day. John Bayard could wait until tomorrow.

I was just about out the door when the buzzer lost its cherry.

The Kibosh

kirtvocals — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 16:22:07 +0000

Dreams are not always good sources of inspiration. Very soon after beginning work on the novel mentioned in the previous posts, I realized that neither Hemingway nor Joyce nor Stein would make very good detectives. They all led very mandarin lifestyles, each in their own way. Hemingway ‘s boyish admiration for men in uniform would have made him more likely to leave a murder investigation to the Paris police. Joyce was going blind and Stein rarely left her salon, so the idea of these two tromping around Paris trying to solve a murder is ridiculous. There’s also just way too much research involved. I would have to immerse myself in the time and place with about six months of solid reading before I could even begin to start writing. I don’t have that kind of time to invest in a project that ultimately would be, as I said initially, absurd.

I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone (I doubt that I have). I’m going to think about serializing one of the other projects I’ve been working on instead. I also want to keep at the essay idea. Any suggestions for topics?

Kirt Vocals Gets Serious about Serialization

kirtvocals — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 17:11:18 +0000

Once again, a silly idea has taken root in my thoughts and has begun to suggest itself as a feasible project. I am speaking about the Hemingway/Joyce/Stein mystery that my subconscious (or is it unconscious?) mind presented to me the other night. It poses an interesting challenge: not only will I have to devise all of the intricacies of a compelling murder mystery, but I will also have to emulate the style and voice of three very famous, very different writers. This is not just a question of ability but also of legality. How long does someone have to be dead before you can use them in this way? I don’t want descendants and executors descending on me and legally executing me. Does the “this is all made up” disclaimer at the beginning cover your bases?

I’ve also been thinking about this blog as a sort of vanity press. I’ve been considering serializing this novel here on my blog. I’m extremely good at coming up with ideas and beginning to develop them but I have yet to complete an entire project. This has been a real hindrance in aspirations of publication. I’m thinking that serialization will provide me not only with immediate feedback from impartial (or even partial) readers, but it may also encourage me to get the damn thing done so as not to let people down. I tend to work very well under pressure. Deadlines and demands are good for me. I’m not sure about the wisdom of this, though. Will it hurt or help my chances of future publication? Will there be royalty and copyright issues down the road? WordPress terms of service are somewhat vague. I would appreciate any thoughts, advice, or information on this. In the meantime, I’ll keep mulling it over.

Kirt Vocals: Soothsayer

kirtvocals — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 17:28:17 +0000

This came to me in a dream: I am going to write a mystery set in Paris in the 1920s. Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, and Gertrude Stein must solve a murder. It will be written from their perspectives in their styles. It will be absurd. However, it will be critically well received. At least one critic will call it a “tour de force”. It will be made into a movie starring Luke Wilson as Hemingway, Ben Affleck as Joyce, and Demi Moore as Stein. It will be an unwatchable mess but Demi will win a Golden Globe for her portrayal and Affleck will be nominated (even though he looks nothing like Joyce and his accent will be vaguely Scottish instead of Irish throughout the film). I will feel cheap and whorish, but I will use my money and connections to do bigger better things. You just wait and see.