R.I.P., El Dorado

I was in shock after I read this post on the Instagram account of El Dorado Cocktail Lounge:

“It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.” As of today, El Dorado is closing its doors.



How can that be? After walking by this place every week for almost fifteen years to catch the bus to work, I finally went inside a month ago and fell in love. It is (was) the kind of place I adore: dark, kitschy, great service, ecclectic in decor, slightly retro, and classic cocktails that were crafted to perfection.



What took me so long to visit? First, it is not in a great area. Barely a block from the San Diego City College transit station on Broadway, every day you need to avoid eye contact with cracked out addicts shouting out profanities and sometimes exposing themselves. Keep moving. That’s my motto. However, after all this time, the glass block and neon at the entrance beckoned me in. I am so glad they did.



I’m even happier that I took my camera. Twice.



The reason the bar closed is still unknown to me. According to SANDIEGOVILLE:

No reason has been given for the reason behind El Dorado's sudden closure. We reached out to the company for comment but did not receive a response by the time of publishing.

They also gave a little history of the establishment:

In 2008, Nathan Stanton (then co-owner of Consortium Holding Hospitality Group), his younger twin brothers, Marshall and Matthew Stanton, and Ryan Kuntz took over what was then Hong Kong Nite Club on Broadway in San Diego's East Village and opened El Dorado Cocktail Lounge. Under the Consortium Holdings umbrella of bars and restaurants, the establishment hired some of the finest barkeeps this city has to offer and soon became respected as innovators and educators in the cocktail world. Last fall, news broke that Glendale, CA-base Pouring With Heart restaurant group, which also owns Seven Grand and Bar Three Piece in San Diego's North Park, took over the establishment. The new owners closed the bar early this year and transitioned it to offer a more classic cocktail experience. Less than a year later, the company has announced that El Dorado is permanently closed.



A “Karen” on Instagram posted this comment on IG on the El Dorado account:

Y'all deserved to get shut down. It was f#$%^d up to tell employees y'all were closing THE DAY OF just so your workers wouldn't quit on you. DESERVED. Pretty sure they were trying to make as much as they still could to afford the costs of a failing business. I'm also sure they didn't wanna risk people quitting without notice, bc what's the point of staying at a job that can't even give a reference later? They've left many people jobless and without income, and let people work a full shift before doing so. Time that would've been spent finding another job was stolen from them.

How a person who lives in Virginia knew the behind-the-scenes story about a downtown San Diego bar is beyond me. Rarely are things as simple as they appear.

I don’t recall the previous Hong Kong Nite Club iteration at this location, so can’t speak to that one. Possibly another reason for the El Dorado failing was its hours. How does a bar downtown not open until 6pm? You immediately lose the happy hour business to other establishments. On the three occasions that I visited, the place was empty. I’m sure the hipsters arrived much later.



One of the restroom signs; guess I won’t be able to get a shot of the other sign.



A shy maiden forever stuck in the rain hung over the bar.



Lots of taxidermy.



My favorite cocktail, the El Diablo. It was delish. I raise my glass to the good times at El Dorado.



Moral of the story:

Don’t rely on the fact that there will always be a next time. Live your life NOW!

Oh yes, and take the photos that you want at that moment.

I guess I better get myself over to the Chee Chee Club down the street and check it out. At least that one opens at noon!

See more El Dorado Cocktail Lounge photos at my main website.

Lounging at The Lafayette, Pt. 2

The Mississippi Room at the Hotel Manor (now The Lafayette) was where guests could hear the big bands, drink, dance, and do all the things that made life fun back in the fifties. This souvenir photo is from November 1950. Yes, in the day before selfies, people paid for souvenir photos. This lounge was where my Aunt used to hang out at night when she was done her shift as a waitress. Apparently, when Jack McLean joined the Navy in mid-1943, his orchestra was taken over by Jimmy Kennedy, owner of San Diego’s Paris Inn (downtown on the corner of 1st and C), where they had been playing.



Based on this hanging banner, it would appear that the Mississippi Room will be making a comeback, but isn’t quite ready just yet.



The lobby bar gets packed at night with the local hipsters.



At first glance, I loved the decor; at second, something about it just seems a little too “off the shelf” and manufactured. I’m not quite sure that it will age well.



Now we arrive at the initial destination: Beginner’s Diner.



The copy on the menu reads as follows:

This thing. here, this isn’t a diner. The real diner is dead. Beginners Diner is the Smithsonian ode to the diner because the craving for better and cheaper that created the diner wound up killing it off in the end. We long to see the true diner in the wild, but are only really able to experience it in the films and our imagination. So sure, the diner survives, but it survives as a twisted and perverted and idolized version of itself. And in the end, the idea of the diner will outlive all of us in places like Beginner’s Diner, because as Ringo (a.k.a. Honey Bunny) says in Pulp Fiction, “The days of me forgetting are over, and the days of me remembering have just begun.”



Interesting copy; it serves to justify the higher prices (probably smart to condition the customer that way), but fails to note that there are some traditional diners that still exist “in the wild.” I know…I’ve been there. If you’re going to write smart-ass copy, do your research before you make a claim. Back to Beginner’s Diner…



With Mar-mar, my partner in crime. We were ready to try the tater tots.



The hit of this visit was the Boozy Milkshake (I chose Banana Coconut). Just the right amount of booze, it also came with a good amount of leftover in the metal mixing container. Nice touch!



I ordered the French Dip. I was happy with my choice as far as flavor goes; however, for $22, I would have expected the sandwich to be a little more about the meat and less so on the bun. The tater tots were good, but Station Tavern is not going to lose me as a customer any time soon.



The apple pie was good, but lacked the flavor I would expect from a diner. Nice plate though!



Overall, Beginner’s Diner gets an A+ on presentation, but a C+/B- on the food. Still worth the trip, and let’s keep in mind…they just opened. Hopefully in time things will improve.

Here’s a sound clip from youTube of the Jack McLean orchestra playing “When the April Showers Reach Hawaii,” circa 1947. You can imagine yourself sipping a cocktail at the Mississippi Room while you listen to it.



Is there more to come from this story? Of course! See more Lafayette Hotel and Club photos at my main website.

Lounging at The Lafayette, Pt. 1

Opening on July 1, 1946, The Lafayette Hotel was originally known as Imig Manor, after its owner, local businessman Larry Imig. It became a place for celebrities (Bob Hope, Ava Gardner, Frank Sinatra, and Lana Turner) to escape Hollywood and hang out at the Johnny Weissmuller designed swimming pool as well as the 100+ guest suites. A recent $31 million renovation has given new luster to the Colonial mansion styled building, located along El Cajon Boulevard in North Park. The above shot is how the façade looked in 2014; below was taken after the remodel.



The Red Fox Room was a steakhouse that was once located on the front left corner of the hotel, since 1959. The restaurant moved across the street a few years back to make way for a different concept.



It is now Quixote, an upscale Mexican eatery.



Early press releases said the name of the restaurant/bar would be Mama Intento, and the base paint of the sign confirms that. However, the neon over it and the hotel website no longer reference that name.



The entrance:



The lobby. Wow! The experience when you enter is not what you would expect from the Tara Plantation exterior. It is more akin to the Jungle Room at Graceland (I’ll leave that up to you as to whether that’s good or not).



The famous Weissmuller pool:



More to come on this place!

See more Lafayette Hotel and Club photos at my main website.

Vintage Disneyland Quickie

As I was going through these 3 consecutive vintage shots of Disneyland, I noticed that they could be layered into a quick animated gif, giving us a few seconds of life on Main Street, U.S.A. circa 1956. First we have the Horse-Drawn Streetcar, followed by the red Horseless carriage…



and another red Horseless carriage shot as it approaches the Plaza Apartments (wonder what rent would be for those today?):



Combined and layered in Photoshop, we have as the French say, Voilà!



See more Disneyland Main Street, U.S.A. photos at my main website.

Disneyland in 3D: June 26, 1966, Pt. 3

Today marks the 3rd and final installment of the June 26, 1966 Disneyland in 3D (aka genuine FauxD© series). Wouldn’t it be great to step inside of the Penny Arcade?



Despite the blur of guests, you can see Esmeralda the fortune teller front and center:



Eastman Kodak? Film for cameras? Huh?



For all you cellphone snapping goobers, yes…cameras used to take film. Real film. And you could buy it right on Main Street, U.S.A. at the Eastman Kodak Shop.



Just take a look inside those windows:



This overall view down Main Street shows the location of the Penny Arcade and Kodak shop across from each other with the Train Station at the end of the street in Town Square:



This view was shot closer to the Castle:



The sign on the far left that is cut off says “Insurance by North America,” aka INA. That was the sponsor of the Carefree Corner (not to be confused with the Coke Corner across the street).



This set would not be complete without a nighttime shot of the Castle:





By this time the coat of arms had been added above the entrance:



The last one shows the Mark Twain at the dock:





Oh to take a spin around the original Rivers of America again!



See more vintage and contemporary Disneyland photos at my main website.

Temple Tuesday: Shirley, Warner, and the Russians

Warner Baxter was an Academy Award winning actor (“In Old Arizona,” 1928) by the time he worked with Shirley Temple in 1934’s “Stand Up And Cheer.” They had one scene together in the film, but were also seen together (most likely for publicity purposes!) in the Fox Commissary. Notice Warner is the only one with food in front of him!



The two met again in front of the cameras three years later, according to a 2001 article in the Los Angeles Times:

Just 12 days after Amelia Earhart disappeared dramatically in the Pacific while attempting an around-the-world flight, a trio of Russian aviators blazing a new polar route had to take an unexpected forced landing—in a Riverside County cow pasture [the original destination was San Diego]. At a time when the young Soviet Union was establishing itself as, in Winston Churchill’s words, “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma,” the experimental single-engine plane was the second of three pioneering Soviet flights intended to test the feasibility of a commercial airline route from Moscow to the United States. Their surprise landing here earned them parades and hobnobs with movie stars and aviation pioneers.

Shirley recalled the event in her autobiography, Child Star:

In mid-July of 1937 came visitors worth seeing because they were so abhorred in advance. “More Commies,” snorted Klammy [Shirley’s studio appointed teacher]. “They don’t believe in God.” To arm me with useful Russian phrases, the studio had sent comedian Gregory Ratoff to tutor. Demonstrating “very good” in Russian, he sputtered the syllables, and like all short people, I caught his fine rain of spray, leaving me rehearsed and sticky all over.



From the accompanying publicity blurb:

LOS ANGELES ENTERTAINS RUSSIAN FLYERS. Russia’s three flying aces were entertained at the 20th Century-Fox Motion Picture Studios in Hollywood, California on July 17th. Photo shows—left to right— Navigator Sergei Danilin, Pilot Mikhail Gromoff; Co-Pilot Andrei Yumasheff; Shirley Temple, child actress; and Warner Baxter.



From a vintage newspaper:

The flyers were met at the gate by Shirley Temple, equipped with her best smile, an autograph book and a pen. Yumashev sketched her an airplane; Gromov drew a face, and Danilin, the navigator, drew a straight line, explaining that straight lines were the business of a navigator.

The autographs and sketches came up for sale in 2015 at the “Love, Shirley Temple” Theriault’s auction. From the catalog:



MEMORABILIA RELATING TO THE FIRST TRANSPOLAR FLIGHT FROM MOSCOW TO CALIFORNIA
Lot Number: 490. Comprising two photographs of nine-year old Shirley Temple and the three Russian fliers who made the first non-stop transpolar flight from Moscow to Southern California, July 12-14, 1937, along with three cards with little notes of admiration and autographs from those fliers, Mikhail Gromov (pilot), Andrei Yumashev (copilot) and Sergei Danilin (navigator) to Shirley Temple. The notes were written in both Russian and English language, the English noting "To a charming little girl and a great actress". Along with a card from Consantine Oumansky (charge d'affairs at the Russian embassy in Washington, and then from 1939-1941, Russian ambassador to the US), who noted "Together with our Trans-Polar Flighers [sic] I am enchanted by Shirley. You can really be proud of her", and with a ruble note. Of little attention today, that flight was extraordinary at the time, flying 7120 non-stop miles in 62 hours, a new flight record. The flight plan was designed to land in San Diego, but fog conditions caused its landing in a cow pasture in San Jacinto. The fliers were wildly celebrated including a ticker tape parade in Los Angeles, a visit with President Roosevelt, and, this, a meeting with Shirley Temple. Realized Price: $1,100 • Presale Estimate: $300+

Want to see the dress Shirley wore in color? Look no further than the July 1937 cover of Photoplay Magazine, shot by George Hurrell:



Back to Shirley’s account from Child Star:

Three of the visitors were short, two looming; all were dressed alike, in drab suits with trousers flared at the bottom. “I am Oumansky, chargé d’affaires from Washington,” said one, his voice sonorous and thickly accented. “I translate.” “Pashalsta! Thank you,” I replied, while everyone smiled politely. “And I help,” added Rigore Gokham, the USSR consul general in San Francisco, who took charge. The other three men were aviators who had just flown in a single-engine plane 6,295 miles nonstop from Moscow across the North Pole, a world record for distance. The filers had just landed in the early morning of July 12 in a pasture near San Jacinto, California, site of today’s March Field Air Base. “Know why they landed in a plowed field instead of the smooth nearby landing strip?” Gokham asked, then answered, “Because the air brakes were removed before takeoff to make room for a heavier fuel load. They had to use a rough field to help stop the plane.” It all sounded exciting and logical. “Yes, we pioneer commercial air route between our two countries,” interrupted the pilot, Mikhail Gromov, a lean and attractive man wearing a small medal on a red ribbon. Noticing my interest, he stooped forward so I could see better. “Medal of a Hero of the Soviet Union, from the great world war,” he told me. Although I hadn’t studied the war yet with Klammy, I was mighty impressed. “Ohin Khorosho! Very good! I commented, tucking in my chin for the requisite guttural tone. Actually the Gromov flight was the second Soviet transpolar flight. Severe head winds had forced the first plane to land at an army airfield near Vancouver, Washington. The U.S. commanding officer who took the three-man Soviet crew into his home was General George C. Marshall, later of international reknown. That initial long-distance record was short-lived, eclipsed by Gromov three weeks later. “We flew three days,” navigator Sergei Danilin began, reciting details, “precisely sixty-two hours and seventeen minutes. We heave cyclones, ice, and gov over magnetic pole. Only one night dark enough for sleep.” “Ochin Khorosho!” I repeated enthusiastically although I was puzzled. We had not reached astronomy either. “Now I will lead you around the lot. First we’ll see them making movies,” I advised, and paraded the group onto the set of Eddie Cantor’s “Ali Baba Goes to Town.” Although polite to the cast, the visitors were obviously far more interested in technical equipment than chatting with strangers. Actors Tyrone Power, Alice Faye, Warner Baxter and Andy Devine stood in an attentive circle around the visitors, but one by one the fliers drifted aside to examine cameras, lights, and sound equipment.

From the Globe-Democrat, July 18, 1937:

On one set [of “In Old Chicago”] they saw Alice Faye and Tyrone Power engaged in a love scene, and, while they didn’t understand the dialogue, they seemed to get the idea. Eddie Cantor, filming a comedy [“Ali Baba Goes to Town”], greeted the trio, and they grinned when attempted to explain what he was doing.…The entire party attended a luncheon at which Darryl Zanuck, head of the studio, was host.

Another vintage paper of the day reported:

Through an interpreter, Gromoff said: “The team work of the people who make motion pictures is amazing. A man blows a whistle and everybody is quiet. All know just what to do and how to do it. I admire the team work.”

From Child Star:

The fliers were my excuse to attend my first baseball game. Along with 28,000 other spectators at Wrigley Field in Los Angeles, we watched a pickup Film Comedians team edge the Leading Men 7 runs to 6. Long forbidden to nibble between meals, I was not allowed to have hot dogs, and having only a meager understanding of baseball, I was reduced to watching others eat and play. It was one of the few moments I could remember when I could stare at other people without catching them staring back. Sharing my disinterest in baseball, Gromov began to talk again. “Flying is like a game too,” he said, while Oumansky translated. “We are a young country. We cannot remain behind.” As he spoke he looked directly at me, his long fingers held just touching each other in a thoughtful pose. “World progress must be our progress. Maybe American aviators can better our record. So! We in turn once more may surpass your record.” Better than baseball, I thought. A simple contest, and perpetual. It intrigued and baffled me that so likable a person could bring horror into Klammy’s voice. Despite obviously irreconcilable divisions of political philosophy, Gromov and I remained friends for years, and forty-five years later, in 1983, he wrote me of his hope that the “meteorological and political storms will soon subside, and we again will be able to share pleasant memories of meetings on your soil.”



At the time of the Russian tour, Shirley was just wrapping up the filming of “Heidi,” which was in production from May 17, 1937 to mid-July 1937. Baxter’s most recent Twentieth Century-Fox production was the comedy “Wife, Doctor and Nurse,” released September 17, 1937 and also starred Loretta Young. As for what happened to Baxter, it seems like a sad story. Although very wealthy from his film career, he was also tired of the studio system and the amount of pictures he was forced to churn out per year. Age was not his friend, either, as he became increasingly more uncomfortable with the age disparity of his leading ladies. Turning to the bottle, he began a slow descent into depression and eventually had a nervous breakdown. At the end of his Fox contract, he slowed his pace down, enjoyed the fruits of his labor, and lived in Malibu beach with his wife, Winifred. His ending blew me away, as I’d never read about this before:

Baxter’s health deteriorated as he began suffering from arthritis. He tried many different medications and various forms of physical therapy, but his chronic pain only worsened over time. In 1951, he became so desperate to find a cure for the pain, that he decided to undergo transorbital lobotomy despite his physicians telling him that the procedure could permanently damage his brain. After he was lobotomized, Baxter stopped complaining about the pain, but he also experienced severe memory loss and crippling seizures. Furthermore, he stopped recognizing people around him and turned apathetic. Baxter died on May 7, 1951, of pneumonia [most likely developed from improper post-surgical care] several weeks after the procedure, at the age of 62.…Transorbital lobotomy remained a common practice for treating mental illnesses and various physical ailments until the 1970s. It was finally halted after it was proven that the procedure did not help but causes irreparable brain damage.

Many thanks to Melissa (aka “The Colonel”) for doing the legwork on the vintage articles!

See Shirley Temple more photos at my main website.