I Will Gladly Pay You Tuesday For A Hamburger Today......

Why, you may ask, am I quoting the great J. Wellington Wimpy?  Well kiddies, it's because I'm hear to talk about hamburgers.....sort of.


But first, a confession.  It is possible to live in a land like Hollywood and, even though a fiend for the history of the place, let certain historical landmarks slip through the fingers.  So my confession:  I've never been to the legendary Barney's Beanery.....until yesterday.

Early 70s looking much the same as today.

What a fool I've been and why, oh why, have I waited so long!  Maybe it was a hangover of feelings regarding 'the infamous sign' (though that was taken down before I even moved to town), but I'd like to think I'm not that shallow.

"Barney", 1964.

And besides, the story goes, Barney put up the sign in the late 40s to appease the LA Sheriff's Dept. and the Alcohol Beverage Control Board who where cracking down on certain 'behaviors' that were happening in certain restrooms of certain establishments all around town.  As there was a gay clientele that frequented the place between then and the mid 80s when the sign was removed, it's clear that nobody paid much attention to the thing.

What folks did pay attention to was great comfort food and drinks served up in an atmosphere of democracy that allowed no more special treatment to Lana Turner than was given to a local milk man.  Here (now as then) all customers are customers; and customers are king.

Okay, now that we've gotten the stupid sign thing out of the way, let's get into the wonders of this burger stand/road house/gin joint/billiard parlor/rock and roll paradise.  This calamitous cacophony of color!

Courtesy of Barney's website.

I was invited over by Barney's very own Historian (and part owner), Sheri Hellard.  Sheri and longtime server Dominique Kadison were my guides through this magical history tour.

Dominique and Sheri.

The first thing I was shown was the endless collection of license plates over the bar.

Back when this place opened in 1927, it was on the last leg of Route 66 and folks who were seeking a new and better life in the golden west began to rip the plate off their flivver and give 'em to Barney, symbolically claiming their arrival.  The gesture has continued over the years.

Along about this point of my visit, lunch was ordered.  Here's a little tip:  arrive hungry.  There are over 1000 items on the menu and you anti-gluten and anti-meat types will be just as satisfyingly stuffed as the rest of us.

For me, double cheeseburger with fries and a small side of chili please.

In this world of 're-imagined classics' it's really nice to scarf a plate of chow that tastes the same as it would have when it was made in the 30s!

I'm not going to go into a long accounting of the history of Barney's because I couldn't write anything better than Domenic Priore.  His article is on Barney's own website here, but I will share a couple of my favorite things from the place.  And I will also tell you that I'll be going back because, even though I was there for 90 minutes, I think I saw about 6% of what there is to see.


Favorite thing No. 1:  Morrison Plaque

The 'here sat Morrison' plaque on the bar tells only half of the story.  Jim left more DNA than just sweaty palm prints.  One night, in what I'm sure was performance art, Morrison relieved himself of the last half-dozen drinks on this spot.  Yes, The Lizard King peed on the top of the bar.


Favorite thing No. 2:  The not-quite-all-seeing-eye

Yup, it's an eyeball.  And, yes, it's nailed to the ceiling over one of the pool tables where, as legend has it, it was surrendered to the victor of a pool game when it was discovered that the One-Eyed Jack, didn't have enough jack to payoff the bet he'd just lost.

Favorite thing No. 3:  Table top Goddess

Once again, direct your eyes to the heavens.  Nailed to the ceiling to protect it from any further molestation is a former tabletop where is carved, "Janis Lyn 70"!  Anyone who knows me knows that Joplin has always been my forever number one.  And on the evening of Oct 3rd, 1970, Barney's was her last stop before boarding the train bound to Fabulon at the Landmark Hotel.

One last thing.  All things being in cosmic synchronicity in a place like Hollywood, at the same moment I was snapping the above picture, Janis Lyn Joplin was posthumously receiving her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Barney's rules.....peace out.

1949

Lookout.

High atop groovy Laurel Canyon in the Hollywood Hills, there is a street and a section named Lookout Mountain.  It's rather aptly named, as it turns out, and not only in the context of the spectacular vistas.  The name also works if you shift the meaning more to the kind used in the Shangri-La's epic 1964 hit "Leader Of The Pack".  You know, the part right after she begs him to go slow, she screams "lookout, Lookout, LOOKOUT!!"

On the one hand you have the rustic, unmatched beauty of a steep hillside that has been a draw to the creative and famous since the beginning of filmdom:  Clara Bow, Tom Mix, Garbo, Harry Houdini, Bessie Love.  You also have the birth of the Hippies with Vito Paulekas, Szou (his wife), Carl Orestes Franzoni (his constant sidekick) and their legion of followers.  And finally, as everybody knows, you have the birth of the Southern California 1960s rock explosion with residents, Joni Mitchell, David Crosby, Frank Zappa, Jim Morrison, Stephen Stills, The Mamas and The Papas, The Byrds, Love, Little Feat, The Lovin' Spoonful, The Association, Jackson Browne, Graham Nash, The Monkees, Van Dyke Parks, and on and on.

There were darker forces too.  Over the years there's also been a string of suspicious suicides and grizzly murders, most famous of which were Ramon Navarro and the Wonderland Murders.  And come to find out, it wasn't just young girls who were comin' to the Canyon.

Into this heady, theatrical mix of star dust, astrology and acid trips, whom do you think would be the least likely occupant to enjoy a stay of thirty years?  Could it be, dare I say, The Military/Intelligence Complex!?!?!

Originally occupied in 1941 the 2.5 acre property was used as an air defense station.  However, from 1947 until 1969 (supposedly, though some say years later), it was a secret government film studio, perhaps the world's only completely self-contained movie studio. With 100,000 square feet of floor space, the covert studio included sound stages, screening rooms, film processing labs, editing facilities, an animation department, and seventeen climate-controlled film vaults. It also had underground parking, a helicopter pad and a bomb shelter.  While operational, the studio produced some 19,000 classified motion pictures.  The facility retained as many as 250 producers, directors, technicians, editors, animators, etc., both civilian and military, all with top security clearances - and all reporting to work in a secluded corner of Laurel Canyon.  To date, only a few dozen of it's film products have been declassified.

Imagine, cold war shenannigans and Cass Elliot, Peter Fonda and Jim Morrison all happily coexisting!

Mitchell, Crosby and Clapton hangin' in Cass Elliot's backyard, 1968