Frank Barron reporting, your midnight tour guide, your personal gadfly, your late night scribe. It's 11:11 upon my arrival at FB's for the duration of my term, and tonight has all the makings of something special. Just landed in the Queen City from an extended stay in Tuscany to celebrate the one year anniversary of the little lounge we call affectionately call FB's. I apologize for the hiatus, but hey, the wine in central Italy ain't gonna bottle itself. You ask, Is the Funky Bastard the place to be tonight? Is the Harvard rowing team bitter after after the Yale defeat? Of course, so let see what we can find.
In an effort to chronicle the night's greatest quotes, Peter Mclaren comes through with the winner early on. While speaking about his travels in Europe, he says, "I shot a boar ox from 250 yards in the middle of the night in Portugal". And he's not a man who would exaggerate such things, So what will become of the corpses of the boar ox, you ask, "The foxes will have them". Speaking of foxes (nobody segways like Frank Barron) I am introduced to the lovely Hiromi Oshima of International modeling and Playboy magazine fame. No higher compliment could be paid, when she describes yours truly as "the Hugh Heffner of Cincinnati", and this is from a lady who knows the man. Hey Hiromi, I'm not nearly that prolific, but if you're down, You know where to find me. Nevertheless, me and my crowd shuffle off to the new RH basement lounge.
My inaugural trip downstairs through the "Recreational Habitat" reveals more wonders than could be expected. With more personalities per square foot than anywhere else in the west of the Alleghenys and east of the Rockies. Described by some as your weird neighbor's basement during a 70's swingers party. Now add a guy with a Basquiat shirt, Donkey Kong and Ms Pac Man full size arcade consoles along with a DJ spinning Jimi Hendrix, a bar, two girls dressed in "Swiss Miss" outfits, an instant photo screen, glow in the dark glasses, Scott Sheridan in a sombrero, and Cincinnati's Mayor Mallory posted up by the entrance and you get an idea of the scene, and all this before the clock strikes midnight, as we await the next progression of old school sequel moments.
An elderly gentleman says to his wife, "Finish your drink and let's get out of here." A sentiment not shared by many, but no offense taken, I guess they didn't have many watering holes like this during the Eisenhower years. I know that denim and silk didn't mix way back when, but who wants to leave when the women are now flooding the floor space like this, and one thin young lady in a black dress catches my eye. The mood is cool, Recreational Habitat is a hit, and now the light playing off the walls and camera flashes feels as though we are all swimming in a life-size underground aquarium.
Of course the night could not be complete until the notorious Afroman (scream "Holy Afroman") hops out of a mini van and proceeds to perform a rousing edition of "Because I Got High" and places a cherry on top of the night. This is what's known as a memorable moment. True to form, he shouts "Let's get drunk tonight, let's get high tonight, I don't want to die tonight." Hey, me neither, and the Octoberfest traffic can be a killer.
As I leave the festivities behind and make my way through the downtown streets, I'm reminded of how fast a year goes by. Always remember this, not just everybody can go where Frank Barron goes, but if you're sexy, you can gain admittance to FB's. Regents and rapscallions, stiff shirts and stylemakers, playmates and politicians.. Some said it wouldn' t last, but the critics were wrong once again. One day the foxes may have the corpse of this place, but not yet. Happy One Year to one hell of a cocktail lounge. The nightlife, much like myself, lives on to see another day.
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