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The miniature bathtub showcased in Belltown speakeasy, Bathtub Gin  

Ever feel like there are social controls that have gone too far? I remember coming to Seattle as a teenager from Eastern Washington to party. Back in those days, Seattle was liberal and cool. It was the place to be if you were a single mom, a mixed couple, a punk rocker, a gay, a feminist, an artist, of color, or any other kind of fringe person, especially for an aspiring "woman of the world". My group of girlfriends and I could wear our high style clothes and smoke our designer cigarettes inside some dump of a house with super poor skate punks and drug addicts while partying with the likes of Stone Gossard and Brendan Fraser. Every kind of kid could be seen at these parties, from every social category. The one thing we all had in common is that we were cool, we liked to party, and more importantly, we liked each other. Not all of us did the same drugs, some of us didn't even do drugs. Some of us smoked, some of us didn't, some were wealthy, and were some poor. Yet, there we were all together having the time of our lives. Doing our part to keep the liberal landscape fertile for the next big American cultural movement, that would impact all of the free world.

It was a Fall day in 1985, I remember running around the Ave in the U district with these marvelously chic girls- I was all of 15. As we were running across the street, only after looking both ways, a cop stopped one of the girls and gave her a $50 jaywalking ticket (last I heard it's now a $42 citation). What this taught me was not only to look both ways, but to look for cops before crossing the street. It never occurred to me that I should stop jaywalking. Years later in 2004, I moved to Seattle. It was weirdest thing to stand on the corner with full grown adults waiting for the light to change when there were absolutley NO cars coming. So of course, being the liberal free thinker that I am, I didn't, and still don't. Sure enough, people always ackwardly follow behind me as I illeagally cross the street. I heard someone say that Seattle pedestrains get hit by cars more than anywhere else in the country. They speculate that it has to do with looking at the signs and not making eye contact with drivers. So much for the rules. We should all know by now that we can be invisible to a driver on a rainy day, especiallly clad in earthones and dark colors. This also reminds me of the days before the smoking laws were implemented. I remember not thinking much one or the other about whether or not somebody smoked. It was an adult choice, like where and when to cross the street. As teenagers of course, we were all playing at being adults. I remember thinking that smoking was fun, and reminding myself never to be addicted to anything because that would lead me to eventually having to quit it altogether. It all seemd so puritanical or midwestern, which went against my cosmopolitan aspirations. I imagined a grownup life where I could have a drink or a random cigarette while enjoying intellectual conversation with some kind of brilliant writer, scientist, artist, or any other kind of genius. Anything short of that would be painfully boring--like being told you can never make out, or turn the music up too loud, or stay up late. 

Those were the days when it seemed as though we are all well read and at least slightly avant-garde, if not that we were punk rock, or something interesting. As far as rude awakenings go, I was in for mine. I would never have guessed that my playing grownup as a teen would feel more grownup than my actual grownup years. Ironically, grunge and  political correctness may have been the things that killed an aspect of the culture that they were meant to preserve or even uphold. Both things I personally never cared for. Yes, I said it. Even though, it was a coup to plant the seeds of socio-economic tolerance, and make room for the pop culture free- for- all that ensued with the advent of the internet among other things. Is it just me or does it seem as though PCness is used more by the people it was supposed to keep in line than the people it was designed to protect? I still feel like a rebel teen more than a cosmopolitan woman, at least while Seattle is my context, where people actually scold me while leaning out of their car windows as they drive by in their fuel effecient cars for whatever non-rule I seem to be breaking. Sometimes it's more subtle, like an evil up and down scan in an elevator evoked by my tendency to wear flashy clothes. Maybe, it's my Generation X status that accounts for the juvenile sense of identity I can't quite let go of. I do find myself often saying "Whatevah, I do what I waunt!" In my best Cartman voice.

This Saturday night I took a stand as I often do, in celebration of my adult status. It's been roughly 20 years now, but I don't take it for granted, like the right to vote. I went to Spur with my girlfriend Michelle Quisenberry and got VIP treatment from the best restaurant manager in town, the lovely Anne Magoon. The perk of hanging with one of Seattle's most dialed in women in the restaurant industry is that we always get to try drinks that aren't on the menu, and we never wait for a table. It helps that Michelle is not a diva, although she could be, she's so darn sweet and lovable that people are naturally inclined to dote on her- us when I'm with her. For being so mature, I'm still  a huge french fry lover, and Spur has some of the best in town, the skinny, greasy kind. The night was off to a good start. They also have a tastey pork belly slider which goes well with the fries. Spur is owned by the same people who opened Tavern Law on Capitol Hill, and is known for it's incredibly stylish speakeasy Needle and Thread. Michelle and I have been to it several times, and so has the rest of the city. It was a secret for all of a week. 

After hanging out at Spur, we headed over to speakeasy, Bathtub Gin. A fun way to celebrate in grownup highstyle, we chatted up the amiable owner, Marcus, who made a fabulous cocktail especially for Michelle. The modern speakeasy movement is interesting to me in the sociological sense, but falls flat when it's not so hard to get into, and there's nothing all that edgy going on inside. I do appreciate the stylish aspect of these places, the designer drinks and high quality booze, but I do think they should at least break some rule, or find a way to be unPC. Perhaps by implementing a dress code like the original speakeasies did. Maybe they could have a smoking room or something. Can you imagine being raided for allowing smoking? In all seriousness, Bathtub Gin is a fun place. If you haven't been--go, and bring your favorite friends, but only two because more than that and you won't fit. Make sure you're dressed for it and add a cool vibe to the place. Those are my rules, since I really like this one and I'd like to be surrounded by people who give going out a ittle effort.  It wouldn't be good manners to show up and be boring, it is a speakeasy after all. Marcus himself has a good dose of mojo, and is quite appealing. He can be found working the bar on any Saturday night.

Later, we headed over to Vessel and caught up with our bartender friend Keith who also happens to be Kathy Casey's right hand mixologist. He treated us to a great cucumber and gin concoction and was even kind enough to find me a cigarette and lighter, although I'm not a regular smoker, it's on principal that I light up from time to time.  I was audacious enough to smoke right outside the door of the bar. Between that and our fur wraps- I feel compelled to add that they were vintage fur wraps- Michelle and I got a lot of dirty looks and a few mean comments. However, I wasn't mean to those people for being unstylish or boring, yet I was just insulted by their choices. Oh well, sometimes it's better to take the high road.

While at Vessel we made friends with a table where the people recognized us from Bathtub Gin because of our furs, they didn't seem to hold it against us, did I mention they were vintage? Our newly found friend Eric said that he noted how uncommon it is to see in Seattle. I hadn't noticed since it's not so uncommon among our friends, or at a gala. I think it's a good sign that one can create an alternate reality or even move culture with a little intention. It isn't so much that I want to turn everyone into a jaywalking, fur- wearing, smoker. It's just that I think we should practice the liberal attitude that we are so well known for. Being hyper vigilant in terms of rules and political correctness is not exactly liberal. What happened to the Seattle I used to know and love? Eric, who moved over here from Philly in 2001, said he keeps hearing people talk about the show Almost Live! and asked if we knew about it. Wow, I guess I'm not the only one feeling nostalgic about the old Seattle. The live and let live Seattle that was the fertile ground for one of the most important movements in rock'n'roll and business-- I want it back. I do think maybe I can "party" it into existance. Creating my own subterfuge, one bohemian at a time. I'm sure not everyone has forgotten that John Lennon, the ultimate liberal, wore fur and smoked.

Michelle and I took a cab back to Belltown after an anti-climactic trip downtown, where we were treated as rudely as only self righteous nouveau liberals know how to do. The twist to the story is that it's not "cool" to like Belltown, which really means it's not PC to like Belltown, and yet, it was our oyster, because in reality, it's the coolest place to eat and party these days. And yes, I'm the self appointed knower of what's cool in this town since the nerds seem to have taken over in a Stepford kind of way. We got so many compliments on our style and people were incredibly friendly and open. It's urban enough, and busy enough to be great people watching. Knowing that there are all kinds of edgy parties (ask me in another 20 years how I know this) going on in the penthouses is always comforting to me as well. We got our hotdog just ouside of the Frontier Room where they were playing retro dance music, and had a nice chat with the guy who made it for us. I do vaguely remember making the sign of the horns with somebody on the dance floor inside while singing along to "Pour Some Sugar On Me"... not cool, not grown up, not cosmopolitan, but it was funny. That  third drink always sends me right back to 1985. Out on the street, as we were waiting for the light to change with the herd, which I do recommend doing in Belltown on a Saturday night, a guy with beaming eyes and smiles, came up to us and said, "right on, you black." I took this as a compliment because he himself was black, and clearly not concerned with PCness. We did look confused, and he explained, "the fur, you got style, you black." And he gave us a fist bump.