The Dive Bar Chronicles

It’s really hard to put into words what makes a good dive bar. It’s kind of like the intangibles you hear football guys talk about all the time. Grit, toughness, perception etc. But another part of has so much to do with the cosmetics of a joint. How dim are the lights? Does it have a great name? How much of a hole-in-the-wall are we talking about? Still, you could say it’s what’s inside that counts. The regulars. Juke box and pool table. Busch Light on tap. No dive bar is the same. Yet, they’re all the same. All part of a wonderful American register of treasured drinking establishments.

I’m going to chronicle my time at dives in hopes of inspiring you all to simply see the world around you, every unkempt corner of it.

Love me a good pub that’s nestled into a neighborhood

I grew up in Midway, arguably the best present-day neighborhood for dive bars in all of Chicago. It’s a dive-nurturing city. From Bridgeport at the turn of the 20th century to Wrigleyville in the 80’s to countless other neighborhood strips or password protected pubs past and present.

To be clear, we’re not talking about Cheers here. Or Paddy’s Pub. But that’s not a bad place to start.

A bar where everybody knows your name is great. Nothing like it in the world. Can’t beat that. But a bar where everybody, or hell even just somebody, learns your name is something you’ll never forget… depending on how many you’ve had.

What about a hole in the wall on a dead end street that’s simply out of sight. Where you enjoy the freedom and sovereignty to hang around with your buddies, bullshit around, slug Miller Lites, hatch schemes and pump #5 bills in the jukebox, unchallenged.

Lite or Draft? Seger or Springsteen?

There’s many characteristics that both define and distinguish dive bars. Some traits are shared amongst dives, like dim lighting or a sub-street-level entrance. But so much about what makes a joint a dive is the neighborhood flavor that’s baked into the floorboards for decades. You never hear anyone say, “Oh, you’ve got to check out this new dive… They just opened last year!”

A dive bar doesn’t necessarily have to be a dirty bar. It doesn’t have to have a rough crowd in it either. It could be frequented by a handful of townies, the airport workers up the road, a crowd of tourists, or no one at all. There’s the souls that populate a dive bar that give you company, surroundings.  And then there’s the soul of the pub itself. It lives. It breathes. It smells. It simmered behind brick walls for decades. Seeing every sip, listening to every last call, soaking in every spilled salute.

My favorite day of the year we spilled many a salutes. I got a buddy named Matt Syno and for four years straight he threw the greatest dive bar bar crawl mankind has ever seen. 29 bars at it’s height. All in one day. I had the privilege, nay, the honor, of serving as special guest referee for two Synopalooza’s. Penalty flags and all. From the Bavarian style Grand Duke’s to the legendary carpet of A Touch of Class to my own personal favorite, Pap’s Tap. Practically every bar on the list was a dive.

Synopalooza Bar #4: Ziggy’s Side Door Pub

There’s dive bars in every big city in this great country, and most of the small towns. From the Mai Thai in Presque Isle, Maine to Huntsville, Alabama’s Thirsty Turtle.

It’s not my mission to scrutinize, categorize and alphabetize every dive bar from Abick’s to Ziggy’s. I just figure if I have some time to kill, why not check out as many as I can and guide you all on a tour of a wonderful American Institution: The dive bar.

Ziggy’s is legendary, if only to just a handful of people