The Ballad of Joe Tidwell
In a rare occurance here in Los Angeles, the Red Sox were playing on television this past week. As a Red Sox fan (from before the miracle year of 2004 thank you very much), I have to subscribe to MLB.com's online package to see games or suffer through only a handful of nationally televised games. So I chose the former but relish the chance to see them on TV when I can.
My buddy Jake and I wanted to grab some lunch and check out the game at a bar/pub. We usually hit Timmy Nolan's in Burbank but wanted to try something different. Instead this time, we went to a place in Studio City/Sherman Oaks called Irelands 32.
We walk in and it's dark. Really dark. So dark it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust from the bright afternoon sun. And there are about 8 or so "regulars" that give us the same look Eddie Murphy got entering the bar in 48 HOURS. So we ask the bartender, a very cool guy with an Irish accent, if they were serving food and if we could sit on the side in front of the TV. But there was no waitress service and that side wasn't open, so we took seats at the end of the bar. We asked if one of the TVs could be changed to ESPN and the Sox game but for some reason, never quite explained to us, because the TV facing us was connected to the big screen TV in the other room, the channel couldn't be changed. The room that wasn't open yet and no one was sitting in. Um, ok.
So we managed to get the television BEHIND us changed to the game and we sat with our backs to the bar. Now normally, we would have just finished our beer and left but for some reason we ordered food. We asked the bartender for menus and he replied "we don't have any. There's a board coming out with all the food on it." And lo and behold, a few minutes later the board made it's appearance. So we went over to it, found something to order and came back to our seats. But the bartender informed us that his "computer thingie" was not working and instructed us to walk back to the kitchen and order from the cook directly.
We walk to the back and stumble into the kitchen, at this point there's no turning back as we're fascinated by all this, and approach the cook to order. But before we could, the shakey cook informed us that his fryer had "taken a dump" and there was no fried items avalable from the menu that was JUST DRAWN UP, thus negating Jake's call on the Fish and Chips.
We return to our seats at the bar and we're just cracking up at this nightmare of a lunch trip. We just wanted to watch the game and get some food and beer! But that's when the day changed. The bartender started playing jazz and offering free beers to anyone who could guess the artist (Jake got one) and we started loosening up. And that's when we met Joe Tidwell.
Joe was this older gentleman from Mississippi I believe. Really nice guy and it turns out he's a writer. He studied with William Percy (who wrote the forward and got the book "A Confederacy of Dunces" published...one of my favorite novels) and had some plays produced with Dwight Yokem in them. He had moved away from LA and to Texas for about 10 years and now he was coming back to pursue more writing and was doing set design in the meantime. He was just this really cool older guy and he shared some stories and then asked what we did. I told him I was a comic/actor and Jake mentioned he was looking for a new job. Joe said, "That's good, always keep looking. You can never quit"
That's really good advice. Just always keep looking. Here was a guy who moved away and came back and is still working on his dreams and passions. He just keeps moving on and seemed to be an extremely happy dude. Just loving life and diggin' what he's doing. Enjoying the journey.
And sometimes, even when you're bitching about not being able to order fish and chips, you get a little flash of the real reason you came to a place.
P.S. I hope this post doesn't come across as a complaint against the bar. It is a really cool little neighborhood bar and a great place to grab a Guiness and just hang with some friends. So check it out if you're in the neighborhood.
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