| Clubland: 1991-1994 
 One of the first things I did upon arriving at the Mercury News in 1986 was
    launch a weekly news-and-notes column to cover the nascent nightclub scene
    bubbling up in San Jose's redeveloped downtown. After five years, the kibble-and-bits
    format became tiresome and I decided to take the column in a different
    direction. Each week I would devote the space to a single venue. The
    unspoken contract between myself and the reader was this: Each Friday, I'll
    pick you up and take you somewhere far removed from the ordinary. Chances
    are you'll never actually patronize these establishments yourself. So the
    vicarious trip's the thing.
 
 I started in January of 1991 with the Saddle Rack, San Jose's own
    Texas-scale answer to the legendary Gilley's honky tonk mecca. By the time
    I wrapped up in 1994, it seemed as if I'd visited every biker bar, gay
    dance club, leather bar, blues dive, karaoke parlor and faux-Polynesian
    tiki-torch cocktail lounge in the greater Bay Area. Give me any dark room packed
    with people drinking, dancing, groping and screaming above the roar of an
    800-watt sound system and I'll tell you a story.
 
 Eventually, just to keep things interesting, I added a small cast of
    recurring characters, the people who would regularly accompany me on the
    Friday night forays. My spouse became the Fun Consultant, often the voice
    of sober-sided common sense. And there was Iron John, this critic's
    fearless and ever-thirsty Sancho Panza (who was, in real life, my insurance
    agent for a while). Some weeks the column was more about sociology and
    suburban culture than about nightclubs. And sometimes the venue was just a
    platform for a writing exercise. Could I do an entire column on a North
    Beach Beat poetry and jazz shrine as an extended Neal Cassady
    stream-of-consciousness riff? Well, let's find out. I had the benefit of
    working for some great editors. David L. Beck, Dean Wright, Robin Doussard
    and Holly Hayes all understood and supported what I was trying to do.
 
 Looking back at some of the dubious establishments I visited, I have to
    wonder how I got away with it for so many years. There were many nights
    when Iron John and I would find ourselves in the middle of some scene so
    patently debauched that he would be moved to ask, "Dave, tell me
    again. What are we doing here?" We could only shake our heads and
    laugh.
 
 The Saddle Rack, Jan. 18, 1991
 El Rio, Feb. 15, 1991
 The British Bankers Club, July 5, 1991
 Zapp's, July 12, 1991
 The Carlos Club, Aug. 23, 1991
 Ashkenaz, Jan. 10, 1992
 The Hotel Utah, Jan. 17, 1992
 Knuckle's, Feb. 14, 1992
 Bottom of the Hill, April 24, 1992
 The Tonga Room, June 5, 1992
 The Catalyst, July 3, 1992
 Cat's Alley, July 17, 1992
 DeMarco's 23 Club, July 24, 1992
 Thunder Bay, Sept. 25, 1992
 The Lanai, Dec. 11, 1992
 J.J.'s Lounge, Feb. 12, 1993
 Cafe du Nord, April 30, 1993
 Spike's, May 14, 1993
 The Iron Gate, June 18, 1993
 
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