My Three Blocks

As I mentioned yesterday, although the Atlantic Avenue was a mile long I spent my time on the three blocks between Court Street and Hicks.  Well, I wandered a little bit beyond the Atlantic Antic when I crossed Hicks to visit Montero.

The Mysterious Chinese Woman and I and a couple of friends left my place around 11:30 AM, walked to the end of the block at Court Street and walked up two blocks to Atlantic Avenue.  It was kind of early so the streets weren't overly crowded, yet.  Nice day, too.  Cool and a bit overcast but no rain.  A relief from the really hot sunny Saturday.

A View Of The Crowd


To go with the Middle Eastern food you had to have a belly dancer.

Goes Good With Stuffed Grape Leaves


Not to be outdone, Last Exit had a couple of dancers of their own, with names like donuts.

Pink Sprinkles


Honey Gold


Actually, I don't know if those were their names, but they seem appropriate.  I think that association with donuts comes from a Tom Waits song.

And what would a street fair be without balloons?

Sits On The Porch Swing Watching Them Fly


That was another reference to a song, this time by Elton John, lyrics by Bernie Taupin.

And, of course, there were plenty of songs being played with bands everywhere.

Beach Boy Wannabe


Just Rocking Out


After walking around a bit I parted company with the Mysterious Chinese Woman and our friends to duck into the Waterfront Ale House to wait for my friend Allen, back for another session.  Or so I thought.  As I was nursing my beer a long-term follower of my blog, Michaela, showed up to say "Hello."

Just Popped In To Say "Hello"


I had planned to spend some time here because my friend Dimitri and the band he plays in, The Black Coffee Blues Band, was going to be appearing a bit later in the afternoon.

My friend Allen did show up but he wanted to head to Montero to say "Hello" to Pilar.  We headed out and I saw that The Black Coffee Blues Band was just setting up so I went over to say "Hi" to Dimitri.  When I turned around Allen was gone so I headed to Montero, figuring I would meet him there.

Montero, Just Outside The Atlantic Antic


The Atlantic Antic ends on the east side of Hicks and Montero is just across the street next to a Deli.  "But Montero was joining in the spirit this year with a band of its own.

Going Mainstream
 

Montero was doing a brisk business but my friend Allen was nowhere to be found.  Pilar was in her usual corner holding court, though.

The Queen In Her Court


I had a couple of beers waiting for Allen and then gave up and headed back to the Waterfront Ale House.  I couldn't help but notice the one darkened place in the Atlantic Antic.

So Sad


The Long Island Restaurant, which is owned by Pilar's sister, has been closed for years.  Apparently, because Pilar's sister owns the building she has no financial need to rent the place out and is now too old to run it herself.  And so this classic, old-time bar and restaurant sits empty.  I was lucky enough to drink in here a few times, but the last time was over four years ago.  And even then it was open only sporadically.

On the way back to the Waterfront Ale House I passed by Roebling Inn and my friend from yesterday, Lizanne, was outside serving up beer and being a star of her own.

You Go Girl


By the time I did get back to the Waterfront Ale House the Black Coffee Blues Band was going strong.

Dimitri Rockin' Out


And the crowd sure did gather to take them in.

Crowd Pleasers


That is Poppa Chubby sitting down on the guitar (actually, he is sitting on a stool and playing the guitar) and his wife Galea playing bass guitar.

They played pretty much all afternoon so after listening to them for an hour or so I ducked into the Waterfront Ale House, scored a table and hooked up with the Mysterious Chinese Woman and her friends.

Guess Who


I ordered ribs, the Mysterious Chinese Woman had a cheeseburger, one of our friends had a pulled pork sandwich that he bought from their stand outside and his wife ate a Junior's Cheesecake that she smuggled in.

After we were done eating everyone but me headed back to my place while I hung around listening to a bit more music.

And Allen, well, it is a sad story.  Suffice it to say that he never even made it to Montero.  Oh, don't worry, he was perfectly fine except for a sore head where a couple of hens were pecking at it.

All in all it was another great Atlantic Antic.  Barring some unforeseen circumstances I will be back again next year and, just maybe, see a bit more of the mile-long party.  Probably if I hadn't been to Hank's Saloon the day before I would have been more motivated to head down there but, well, I just kind of settled in at Waterfront Ale House.