4:49 PM
"What the hell is this?" My wife asked. She was holding up a very old, very tired beer mug. Taking it from her hands on one side it said "New Amsterdam" and on the other side was a simple graphic of a cable car. I had to think for a moment. I've never been to New Amsterdam, and if I had I wouldn't bring home any mementos. And besides, does New Amsterdam have cable cars? Where the hell did this come from? Holding it for a moment it came back to me.
I grew up a couple of blocks away from the campus of San Diego State University. I had never attended a school closer to me in my life than SDSU, thus it was a natural fit for me to enroll. The only problem was that going home for the holidays wasn't a big deal because I was home every night. The fun I had was to go home with my fraternity brothers and hang out with them in their cities. A few of my fraternity brothers lived up in the Bay Area of San Francisco. A small group of us planned a road trip that was beyond fun. We had this wild night of just running all over San Francisco. It was the mid-1980s. When we got to Coit Tower a group of gals pulled up in a VW Rabbit, and with Duran Duran blasting got out of the car for an impromptu dance party. The evening ended at a bar called New Amsterdam. Though we were under-age they served us anyway. I didn't want the night to end, but I wanted something to remember it by. So, I tucked the beer mug away in my sweatshirt and kept it.
Ten years later I'm looking at my wife standing in the kitchen. We had a big box of glass that I brought to the marriage and a small space for it. It turns out that my idea to collect shot glasses from every city I visited wasn't that great of an idea after all The dirty, chipped and scratched up mug wasn't warmly welecomed in her domain. "Just get rid of it." She yelled out.. And so it was gone.
I grew up a couple of blocks away from the campus of San Diego State University. I had never attended a school closer to me in my life than SDSU, thus it was a natural fit for me to enroll. The only problem was that going home for the holidays wasn't a big deal because I was home every night. The fun I had was to go home with my fraternity brothers and hang out with them in their cities. A few of my fraternity brothers lived up in the Bay Area of San Francisco. A small group of us planned a road trip that was beyond fun. We had this wild night of just running all over San Francisco. It was the mid-1980s. When we got to Coit Tower a group of gals pulled up in a VW Rabbit, and with Duran Duran blasting got out of the car for an impromptu dance party. The evening ended at a bar called New Amsterdam. Though we were under-age they served us anyway. I didn't want the night to end, but I wanted something to remember it by. So, I tucked the beer mug away in my sweatshirt and kept it.
Ten years later I'm looking at my wife standing in the kitchen. We had a big box of glass that I brought to the marriage and a small space for it. It turns out that my idea to collect shot glasses from every city I visited wasn't that great of an idea after all The dirty, chipped and scratched up mug wasn't warmly welecomed in her domain. "Just get rid of it." She yelled out.. And so it was gone.
The New Amsterdam eventually closed and became an intentional sports bar. One night a Flamenco dance troop performed in the Mission District of San Francisco. Marty, the son of the troop's guitarist brought his friend Adam along to watch his dad play and girls dance. It was a nice diversion. After the event they went to the New Amsterdam and drank from the same mug like the one I threw away.
A member of Chris Isaac's band was sitting at the bar, with three gals fawning on him. They too were in bands, but success had eluded them. The gals at the bar were out of reach. They lacked confidence. Then they started telling stories about success and what it meant to them. They dreamed of a life of fame where the gals came to them and how happy it would be. Occasionally a gal would look their way. But nothing would happen.
The New Amsterdam was a magical little bar where dreams came true. My take away from the bar was a good time and a mug. Adam turned his somber mood, his sorrow and depression into the basis for a song.
"
A member of Chris Isaac's band was sitting at the bar, with three gals fawning on him. They too were in bands, but success had eluded them. The gals at the bar were out of reach. They lacked confidence. Then they started telling stories about success and what it meant to them. They dreamed of a life of fame where the gals came to them and how happy it would be. Occasionally a gal would look their way. But nothing would happen.
The New Amsterdam was a magical little bar where dreams came true. My take away from the bar was a good time and a mug. Adam turned his somber mood, his sorrow and depression into the basis for a song.
"
I was down at the New Amsterdam
Staring at this yellow-haired girl
Mr Jones strikes up a conversation
With a black-haired flamenco dancer
You know, she dances while his father plays guitar
We all want something beautiful
Man I wish I was beautiful
,,,,,,,Mr Jones and me
Tell each other fairy tales
And we stare at the beautiful women
She's looking at you
Ah, no, no, she's looking at me
Smilin' in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you
You can never be lonely
. . .Man I wish I was beautiful
,,,,,,,Mr Jones and me
Tell each other fairy tales
And we stare at the beautiful women
She's looking at you
Ah, no, no, she's looking at me
Smilin' in the bright lights
Coming through in stereo
When everybody loves you
You can never be lonely
Mr. (Marty) Jones is on bass.
