Boom! ABC MNF is over

ABC's 12/26/05 final edition of Monday Night Football, a meaningless game between the Patriots and the Jets, nevertheless provided a fitting backdrop for Wild Wing Cafe's (2132 Ayrsley Town Blvd., 980-297-7000, www.wildwingcafe.com) last weekly "MNF" gathering of the season.

Hosted by WRFX's Mr. Bill, southwest Charlotte's best wing bar doled out its usual assortment of "useless crap" punctuated by a halftime drawing for a weekend tryst for two at Snowshoe Ski Resort. The worst item? A "big ol' hairy" t-shirt screen print of a shirtless Panthers fan with The Fox's call sign carved in its back hair.

Useless? Mr. Bill was wrong. My dog found his new cotton chew toy quite useful.

With liquor license issues resolved by time (the tragic affiliation with a July 2004 DUI auto accident and underage serving), the $1.50 Coor's Light and $2.50 Trumer Pils specials were marred only by the $3.99 Garlic Cheese Toast ripoff they called an appetizer. One small half of a loaf, quartered, then dwarfed by the large basket, still survived the bill despite my complaint to management.

One dollar per bite. The cost equivalent of shrimp cocktail.

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Barring a Sunday collapse against Atlanta, possible home playoff games has The Sunset Club's (1820 South Blvd., 704-373-9900, www.sunsetclubcharlotte.com) Jeff Tomascak brimming with enthusiasm about his post-game destination option.

I've failed to schlep past a hundred yard radius of my tailgate to Angry Ale's but there is no comparison. Although not formally reviewed or visited, Sunset Club's private atmosphere, and Jeff's boastful email of "about 15 players, lots of cheerleaders, some Falcons, and lots of fun" after our Dec. 4 Atlanta home stand sounds like a superior option.

No word if ex-TopCat cheerleaders Renee Thomas and Angela Keathley made out in their bathroom.

Annual memberships from $350 to $2000 would explain the clientele, but members may entertain guests; get to know a few millionaires.

The Sunset Club is located below Tutto Mondo and the Pewter Rose in the South End.

Crawl Tales

May I offer a preemptive apology for exclusively driving the blog the last few months, explained in the most recent review of The Forum at Sixth and College. As it turns out, one of my friends complained he couldn't read it because his employer's filter prevents access to bulletin boards and the like.

That does it. Back to the streets for new stuff...

Some observations while tipping one back here and there:

• Speaking of The Forum (see full review on the website), has anyone gone to Bar or Have a Nice Day lately? Just curious, considering their tourist appeal. I bet I get zero responses to this blog for this answer. Last time I was in Bar, there was an electric bull. 'Nuff said.
• Fox & Hound on a Tuesday? Yes. $2.50 pints. A relative steal in the high rises.
  
• I may be in awe of the composite bar, but Zink American had me at hello with its happy hour crowd, and I just want to make sure the masses aren't dwindling after a couple of fly-bys lately. Remember: They are a Harper's affair, so do not miss a chance to eat from the spiral tower of seasoned, skinny french fries.
• I caught John Dungan and Mike Crowley at Connollys on 5th after nearly avoiding an unnecessary Irish scuffle, enjoying their acoustic cover and an interactive crowd. It goes to show that one girl patron, in a good pair of jeans, can work an entire floor. Check John out at www.johndungan.com. How can you resist a chrome-dome head clad in a Family Dollar t-shirt?
• Caught a Panthers game at Picasso's yet? I didn't update the sports bar listings this fall, but my first-ever game there solidifies its usual position atop the standings as the best sports bar in the city.
  
• Where's the best New Year's party? Rumor has it that it's moved to the Westin, for KISS 95.1's "Kiss in the New Year," now $89 per person in advance. For that amount, I can buy everyone at the house party I will attend one drink, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Tutto Go-Go

It has not been often that I've held tribal council at the end of the week at Tutto Mondo (1820 South Blvd., 704-332-5142, www.tuttomondo.net) but a refreshing visit amongst friends reminded me of why it was overdue.

Safely hidden upstairs next to the Pewter Rose in the South End, I featured it way back on March 17, 2004 paying homage to its interior design, low-key attitude, and word of mouth advertising. Shoot, they even pay tribute to my column with a link on their website.

A year and a half has expanded on its theme not only with a full week of entertainment, but its clientele. 9:30 DJ scheduling, with a very complicated array of assignments depending on the numbered week each month, still rounds up the urban professionals and has added a significant homosexual base, as well.

I have mixed feelings about the attention bestowed on me in this setting; I'm unquestionably straight as an arrow but appreciate the compliments, I guess. It must be my athletic, lean physique and crunchy short hair that garnered the occasional double-take. Much appreciated.

On this "True Blue" Friday, it was that guy smitty at the turntables, who specialized in classic house spins while 1/2 price appetizers and 1/2 price Cruvinet wines were served from 6-9. Weekenders will appreciate the $5 vodkas and Red Bulls and $5.50 Cosmos on Sweet Saturdays, and a nightly admission completely devoid of a cover charge.

But almost forgotten was its dark, moody setting stocked with deep loft-style furniture, underneath the twinkle of the holiday lighting. Other than a new phone number, they've kept a good thing going.

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Has anyone else been "Observing"... have things tapered off at Town (710 West Trade, 704-379-3555, www.dineattown.com)? It might be an overstatement, but I've caught a late week stop there a few times lately to a lot more empty seats than usual.

If I'm right, then it proves my point that the nearby Johnson & Wales culinary school, although stacked with cooking talent, is still just a bunch of broke students. College kids = cheap booze, and adjacent nightlife better still suck in the dollars from somewhere else.

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Cans Bar and Canteen (Graham & 5th, www.cansbar.com), originally slated for a January opening, looks busy inside while renovating this two-story development in the Cotton Mills.

It specializes in canned beer offerings, along with premium bottled selections and liquor, while incorporating a retroactive 80's theme replete with old video games and a jukebox.

Funny that it specializes in throwback while its logo and and exterior signage would indicate a futuristic appeal. If mullets are welcome, than I don't want to be.

But come to think of it, I believe there are some area bars that specialize in cans of beer...in Rock Hill.

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I was an unintended recipient of one of the emails circulated over the past two weeks accusing Menage owner Stefan Latorre of racial discrimination, an investigation I don't care to pursue.

However, I am curious if anyone has experienced this elsewhere around town, and please don't name names, just examples. Our blossoming cultural diversity probably makes this inevitable, as we learn to expand our tolerances. Feel free to email me at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com.

Season's Best

Clutching a red rubber wristband and my new clickety ballpoint pen, these tokens are all that’s left of my $30 investment for one of the year’s first annual downtown galas, the Red Hot Turkey Trot benefiting the American Red Cross this past Tuesday, November 22^nd.

Whew. I sneak in my hurricane philanthropy after all.

On a brisk evening where I even score a free parking spot, walking to the Wachovia Atrium is becoming a tradition, considering a plethora of summer events and copycat parties following the same recipe of 1) mix in a few dozen dollars of your own cash, 2) drink unlimited sponsor beer & wine, and 3) enjoy adult contemporary band. 4) Repeat.

It works. On this evening, where Toys for Tots and 2^nd String Santa still beckon me to whip out my annual Christmas tie over the next couple of weeks, an estimated thousand patrons or so deck the halls for the good cause.

Frankly, if I would show up on time I would get my money’s worth, before the hordes deplete the available buffet and it would also give me time to slug back a few more complimentary Buds.

The Atrium events, or any downtown “festival” for that matter, are a textbook case of the dating scene, admittedly attracting the hottest clientele crowd in Charlotte on a regular basis.

“But all the good guys are married or gay,” observes a fellow friend Jen, who apparently was oblivious to the male gene pool available. I mean, is she aware of our adverse ratio?

The chilly air, the 40 foot lit tree, and ceiling ornaments kick off the holiday season in grand fashion, while I watch the band Liquid Pleasure’s dance floor flip from “Gold Digger” to “Rock Around the Clock” to the humiliating “Electric Slide.” Admittedly, I can do the latter, but only under intense interrogation.

The flyer says lights out at 11:00, but they roll up the carpets before then. No matter, as our holiday season is officially underway. Better start getting all those $20’s stacked up for admission.

Calendar dates: 12/2 Toys for Tots (South End Brewery), 12/3 Santa Bar Crawl (Dixie’s Tavern), 12/6 Second String Santa (Founders Hall), 12/8 Blitzen’s Holiday Bash (Morehead St. Tavern). More info: www.elevatecharlotte.com, www.lazyday.com, www.charlottesportsconnection.com.

Anyone have a good story from the party? String me.

Tailgate Tales

Rounding up some casual observations book-ended by two recent Panther Sundays on the beverage circuit:

• Getting the worst of it out of the way early, a sullen writer seeking solace from the afternoon’s embarrassment at Soldier Field was satisfied with an overdue trip to Fox & Hound downtown for billiards and booze. $2.75 Coors Lights, although not my preference, sure helped rinse clean the filth in my mouth that accumulated from four quarters of no offense.

A pesto pizza and the aforementioned coldies did not help the pool game, but my playing partners were worse.

• One week ago, the year’s lone 4:00 kickoff “burdened” our tailgate with six extra hours of revelry, but I’m hard pressed to find a better post game than Angry Ale’s, which presented not only a fantastic late-night assembly of fans but a jukebox of fun to make your own dance floor, wherever.

It is important to note that they produce the best plate of nachos in the country. Chips, individually dressed with your requested ingredients, simply annihilate any competition in this field.

• Renovations are complete at Uptown Cabaret; it’s good to know that your hard-earned dollars once spent there moved the back bar to the front. Extra seating would appear to be the benefit, and in the interests of retaining the column’s PG-13 rating, dare we say, the scenery is still the same.

Downtown’s lone gentleman’s establishment offers free cover with ticket stub, so keep yours or rummage the top layers of area garbage cans for discards.

• I passed on Efren Ramirez’s visit to Crush last Wednesday night. Napoleon Dynamite’s “Pedro,” the affable Latino vying for class president, guest-DJ’d the evening to a reported low turnout.

One, the club circuit is well represented by the Observer’s Tonya Jameson, freeing up this former class treasurer for efforts better spent elsewhere.

Two, what did you think you would see? A low-rent actor out of costume, selling out to a college night crowd in Charlotte for the obvious payday.

Hopefully he did some really sweet spins.

Sticking around for the Turkey Day weekend? Post your recommendations in a thread, or tell me you found better nachos somewhere.

Overtime & Overspent

The Bobcats' home sophomoric effort, albeit a Monday diversion from the NFL's AFC premier matchup of the Pats-Colts, yielded yet another disappointing loss in overtime, sagging our home court disadvantage back to 1-1 in the coliseum's inaugural season.

In classic fashion, it was a typical NBA snoozefest for three periods, eclipsed by a fourth quarter comeback worthy of the team's young talent.

But an announced attendance of 14,872 that looked a lot closer to 60-70% of that figure demonstrated an early week's difficulty in attracting any semblance of a nightlife buzz; blame a Panthers hangover if you want.

The average fan, and casual Crawl reader, simply finds the Bobcat option as an unattractive cauldron of our disposable income. My immediate observations, which are destined to boil away in a similar fate:

• My gratuitous upper level seat, aligned with the courtside baseline, is forty bucks a game. Adopt my old Hornets' philosophy: If it's free, you can count on me! Make friends with rich people, or bank employees.
  
• Give the smokers a break. Their halftime addiction, while shoehorned on the terrace patio, deserves at least an outside beer tub, some heat, and a television.
  
• The Rockin' Roof Top bar area, emulating the pro outdoor parks with an open-aired lounge area for pedestrian traffic, offers a ridiculous hightop counter and backsplash that completely obstructs the court unless you lean forward in your barstool...the entire game.
• $5.75 and $6.75 beer prices discourage tipping, a respectful practice amongst drinking professionals. Value for the price, an obvious hurdle, is not even worth the printed argument.
• Beer-adverse? Ask Santa for a flask.
• $10 parking, the area's current going rate, now infects the rest of downtown for those not even attending a game. Thanks to the coliseum, which the majority of Charlotte voted against, thirty-nine more hoops dates will have suburban partiers thinking twice about the commute.

Bobcats' owner Bob Johnson may "love [him] some Charlotte," but will we love him back? Only overtime will tell.

Urban Whatever

Creative Loafing's November 2, 2005 issue introduced a new feature by Jared Neumark, a homeless Chicago carpetbagger set to prowl the Center City under a column ironically titled the Urban Explorer.

Sound familiar? I take no creative credit, having retitled this Nightlife column the Urban Crawl in early October (the 10th, to be exact) and converting to a blog, but I'll be happy to waive any intellectual property rights associated with CL's debut. I was a fan of Timothy C. Davis' "Scene & Herd" although I never met the fella.

So Crawl vs. Explorer? Which carries the superior weight? One definition of an explorer, after all, is a "person aged 14-20 who is a participant in the exploring program of the Boy Scouts of America (The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition)." Now, seems to me that while the kid's got his housing struggles, the boy can't be taking his first photo sporting a smirk and a brew in front of Dixie's as a late teen.

I say that he fancies himself as an investigator, and as a Charlotte rook, will undoubtedly consider everything as fresh as that baby's bottom he once had diapered. Coming from Chicago, it may not be a fair fight, although we do have two Morton's now.

A crawl, by definition, is to creep, of which I only play one on TV. Envisioning the weekly prowl in some version of a combat technique seems much more appropriate, considering the space of our suburban sprawl. Besides, I thankfully passed on the Explorer title as an option. Too vanilla, I say, and reminiscent of that overbought SUV.

On the contrary, the Crawl could also play to my juvenile behavior, which is entirely accurate. I'm only thirty-something years from infancy, having adopted my college nickname "Junior," and still despising anything with eggs in it.

So do we have an issue with the new guy on the block? Absolutely not. In fact, I embrace the return of the local mag's drinking hunt in continued tribute to a prior comment of mine that our nightlife is actually newsworthy.

So welcome aboard, Jared. We're tired of your Subway commercials and hopefully the low carb beers you slug will keep the pounds off. Good luck, bro.

Stone-cold rollin'

A twenty-four hour lead time on the grand opening of the Charlotte Coliseum would be sufficient for the arrival of some family-- the younger brother a day ahead of the old man’s arrival and our birthday gift to him courtesy of Mick Jagger & Co.

Although book ended by hump day clichés and a predictable weekend, Thursday night may suffer in the weekly rankings, but burying it in a poll resembling the NCAA’s BCS formula would host this writer and his sibling just fine one day out from the opening ceremonies.

Some random thoughts from the weekend:

• Central Ave.’s Penguin/Thomas St. Tavern duet is still an enviable dinner and drinks option; where else will a $1.75 chili dog and an even cheaper pint of Yuengling stretch the almighty dollar? Our waitress’ offer to sample a Cap’n and unsweet tea, thinking this would resemble a true Southern sugar-fied brew, however, was overrated.

• We were probably an hour too early on this true urban crawl to appreciate Coyote Ugly’s roadhouse appeal, since my prior visit had been some time since a featured review just over a year ago. But an appreciation for the bar staff’s choreography of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” in an appealing ensemble of low-rise jeans and cowboy boots (required attire) atop the bar introduces an option that well, they can pour on me whatever they want.

• The affectionately-titled Dear Carolina (www.dearcarolina.com), a frat quartet hosted by Phil’s Deli, affirmed a sense that the restaurant bar is carving a downtown niche for its collegiate appeal. Live acts are a rarity inside 277; it’s nice to know that a cover charge actually gets you something in return.

• Grand Central? Seemed like the Hut, in all of its 80’s glam.

• Friday’s Rolling Stones’ coliseum debut, with my dad in tow, left little to dispute the entertainment value of even a $60 ticket, especially with a fantastic cover of Ray Charles’ “Night Time is the Right Time” (remember the Cosby Show kids’ rendition?). As expected, the rolling stage later shot across the floor to offer the nosebleeds an intimate set that reminded me the Stones seem timeless, but man, they are old.

The coliseum? A mixed bag. Its mess of a brick and metallic exterior seemed neither throwback nor forward-looking, and multilevel club and luxury boxes intends to leave you in the cheap seats.

Relatively speaking, beers were still cheaper than the eye-popping price gouging at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater.

But the mass exodus after the concert, with the multitudes pouring up Fifth as if the sea had been parted, was a good indication of what forty-one home ballgames might offer this winter.

That cold weather be darned.

Gratuity Accepted

The last time I traversed the penthouse floor of the Charlotte Plaza building, it was called the Tower Club and as usual, drinks, steaks, and cigars were someone else's responsibility.

Last Thursday night's social would be no different, courtesy of some attorneys on retainer and a fantastic renovation to become the freshly-minted Bentley's on 27 (201 S. College St., 704-343-9201, www.bentleyson27.com) subbing in just over one year young.

If you're my kind of reader, you certainly appreciate gratuitous alcohol, and appreciate it I did. The best beer in my hand was the one I didn't pay for, and while sipping many fine Amstel Lights I was reminded of the stellar view of the skyline amidst the setting sun, including an angle on the new Coliseum that would make birds envious.

It gave this guy an opportunity to explore a blog entry and simultaneously work, and play, at the same time.

Every once in a while, swipe up that credit card and consider this alternative to happy hour. Many a time we speak of wine at Blue or martinis at Capital Grille. But picture a panoramic view of downtown, plush leather accomodations, and a live piano (Friday and Saturday) as a necessary evil and prelude to your weekend.

The name? Proprietor Jim Emad, in tribute to his family, honors his wife's maiden name, and bought the business in a corporation named after his siblings (Lauren Taylor, Inc.). The service? General manager Ahmad Mohammad, eager to appease a curious writer, returns from servicing an exiting customer just as promised. Waitstaff swarms our tables with a surf and turf of filet and crabcakes.

A martini is encouraged, with the honorary namesake consisting of an infused vodka of fresh pineapple and mango. The apple martini, a fruity concoction, is also highly recommended.

The atmosphere is warm amidst a fireplace ambiance, and while cigars are welcome, they are not sold.

I look forward to my return; however, I have an idea: You pay for it.

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It is the fall, so expect many football-related references when we essentially are up to almost seven days of televised matchups..

Last Thursday's N.C. State-Clemson ESPN matchup, exhibiting pre-game signs of two ACC teams in tumultous disrepair, was a one-sided affair in the Tigers' favor, and very evident at Picasso's (1301 East Blvd., 704-331-0133).

It would not otherwise be worth mentioning except that I observed exactly every seat in the bar as occupied, while loaded in Clemson orange (obviously, they have not read my alumni bar article...their official home is Jocks & Jills), and Wolfpack fans howled in disbelief at the score disparity.

For the record, it is still pound-for-pound the best sports bar in the city, and ask for Tim to pour you one.
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To do: The Forum. Too early to start chanting "Menage-who?" Or, Charlotte Coliseum grand opening, Rolling Stones-style.

Welcome to the Charlotte.com Nightlife blog

Some of my friends are still oblivious to the term “blog,” leaving me to ponder their apparent ignorance of the manifestation of the “web log” internet counterculture.

But perhaps you’ve heard of it. Authors’ musings have manufactured celebrities, uncovered exclusive investigations, and if we’re not careful, they will inundate us to the point of a media backlash. I’m waiting for the first blog reality series.

I have no interest in sharing every excruciating minutia of my daily routine, but I do intend to let you know the next time I observe anything during the Urban Crawl (a new working title for the Nightlife Column; let me know what you think) that rivals the night I watched the patron in the pressed Lee jeans work the worst pickup line of 2005 (Cantina, May 5, “I had a dream about you”).

Now that’s entertainment.

• Email feedback from the Hoops & Dreams review would have me think I was out to throw the fellas under the bus after their recent grand opening of this sports bar at 5^th and Tryon.

Allow me to clarify. It was a pleasant environment; they just need some time to work their jump shot. I affirm some strong opinions in regards to the projection screen (right on the drywall), cheesy menu headings, and cramped quarters as accurate.

But cheap prices, excellent location, and game access will bring the fans. Maybe even the dozens and dozens of Bobcats fans this year might swing by for a coldie.

• Speaking of sports, it’s been a week, and my body clock is back on schedule after last Monday’s thrilling victory over Green Bay.

I’m as big of a football fan as they come, but frankly, Monday Night Football visiting this town simply stinks. Challenging rush hour traffic for a one to two hour pregame festivity on a school night is not the way to do the pigskin. If you disagree with me, you’ve been bamboozled by their production.

ABC even agrees. “MNF” moves to ESPN next year to lose a significant part of its audience without cable or satellite television.

Personally, the tailgate is arguably over half the fun. So I made up for lost time afterwards, watching traffic subside, enjoying one more Sam Adams, and finally hitting the pillow at 3 am.

Big deal that we get the pageantry and a blimp for a night. Believe me, nothing beats nighttime football, but that’s what Saturdays are for, punctuated by a Sunday morning on the couch.

• The addition of a patio to Connolly’s on 5^th only improved on one of my favorite bars downtown. Until we go smoke-free the sipping of a frosty Smithwick’s in the fresh air sandwiched amongst the high rises is tough to beat.

But the extortion of my $5 (when I have to pay it) weekend cover just for the privilege to enter the premises (with no live band) is like pouring a fresh pint right on the sidewalk.

It’s still the best Irish pub in town while watching Ri-Ra’s upstairs bar slip into club status.

• Before casting one of those flyers I found on my windshield like a playing card across the garage, Illusions 1000 (1000 Seaboard St., 704-332-0998) printed the wrong web address on the back (I suggest they get the printer’s money back). Please allow me to publish the correction as www.illusions1000.com, which is correct on the front.

Borrowing a chapter from the Rock Hill scene, this early Music Factory tenant of the upcoming 30 acre campus of nightlife in north downtown stays open ‘til 6 am, seven days a week. What you do after 2 am when the city cuts off the booze is your business.

Nightly themes include Monday Night Football, DJ skillz contests, goth nights, and a monthly foam party. Suds and skivvies!

• I have a handful of gay friends, and observing a couple flirt with our waiter in the breezeway of Therapy Café (401 N. Tryon) equaled the free acoustic entertainment of the evening. Before the fall chill sets in, get out there for Wednesday half-price martinis, and for those of us who are straight and male, I’d call it ladies’ night out.

Keep an eye out for new Crawl updates.