The dive bar’s obituary has been written a thousand times, and yet: The ratio of dive-bar listicles to dive-bar obits must be about 10 to 1. Either the dive bar’s demise has been greatly exaggerated or the definition of such watering holes has become so unmanageable that it encompasses just about any place that doesn’t serve a $20 Manhattan.
So how can we characterize the American dive bar so that everyone agrees? In short, we can’t. But we needed some guidelines as we searched for the country’s most authentic dives over the past months. True dives possess a handful of basic attributes: They must have history; they must have regulars; they cannot be expensive; they cannot have craft cocktails.
Las Vegas
Detroit
New York
Double Down Saloon
Nancy Whiskey
Subway Inn
Philadelphia
Hollywood
Bob and
Barbara’s
The Frolic Room
Austin
Houston
New Orleans
Little Longhorn
Saloon
Lone Star
Saloon
Candlelight Lounge
You might disagree with our operating narrative, and no doubt you’ll dislike some of our choices. But this is our point: A dive bar is personal. It’s where friends gather, drink and argue loudly — and still walk away as kindred spirits.
James Intveld is reflected in a mirror as he performs at the Little Longhorn Saloon in Austin. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
Ian Dennett, left, stands next to David Ward at the Little Longhorn Saloon front door. Strange pleasures await inside. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
Outside the saloon, license plates from various states are on display. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
Signs and photos on the wall convey a good idea of some of the saloon’s driving forces: Beer and music. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
Shaan Shirazi pulls Debra Watson in close while dancing to the music of James Intveld and band. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
LITTLE LONGHORN SALOON
Address: 5434 Burnet Rd., Austin
Telephone: 512-524-1291
Website: http://thelittlelonghornsaloon.com/
Beer and ticket in hand, the faithful gathered around the chicken coop at Little Longhorn Saloon to cheer on the contestants, a pair of colorfully plumed hens by the names of Loretta Lynn and Little Ginny. The birds were pecking away at the seeds scattered inside their pen, oblivious to the exhortations of the patrons all around them.
“C’mon, baby girl!” yelled one dude, urging the birds to strut over to square No. 38 on the bingo board, which serves as the floor of the coop.
“Drop the deuce! Drop the deuce!” shouted another as a band cranked out boot-scootin’ honky-tonk music in the background.
Rarely had so much been riding on a fowl moment. Every Sunday at Little Longhorn, patrons lay down their own deuce — $2, that is — to purchase a ticket for what the bar dubs, without a drop of euphemism, chicken s— bingo. Winners take home $114 each, which isn’t exactly chicken scratch.
Little Longhorn Saloon owner Terry Gaona cleans up chicken droppings. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
Caitlin Whiteman, bottom center, and Gabby Colaianni, right, watch Loretta Lynn’s work. (Photo by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)
This game of bird-drop bingo was first conceived by Dale Watson, the silver-pompadoured Texan better known for producing fine country music. In 2013, Watson and his sister, Terry Gaona, along with her husband, David, bought the former Ginny’s Little Longhorn from Ginny Kalmbach and gave the place a much-needed facelift. The new owners built a stage for their full schedule of bands. They added beer taps. They even installed a window in the once sunlight-deprived honky tonk.
Owner Terry Gaona on what makes chicken s— bingo such a success.
Warning: This audio clip contains explicit language.
In 2015, Watson sold his share of the saloon to the Gaonas, preferring to spend his time on the road, not inside a dive bar. But Watson left behind his legacy of chicken s— bingo. (Though he later launched a similar poop-based contest at C-Boy’s Heart & Soul, causing a minor controversy in Austin.) “Dale brought up the idea,” Terry Gaona said. “Ginny said, ‘Oh, it’s never going to last,’ and here it is, 23 years later and still kicking.”
Ronna Geisler, a first-time visitor to the saloon, was thrilled at her luck one Sunday. She was there to salute a friend moving to Ireland but became the toast of the Little Longhorn herself when Loretta Lynn dropped a load right on the line, between two numbers. A pair of patrons argued that the bird poop covered more of square No. 21 than No. 51. They had a point. They both also had ticket No. 21. But what they didn’t know is that Terry Gaona sells bingo tickets to cover such controversial dumps: Geisler had one of the winning “line” tickets in her possession.
“I might have to spend [the money] on myself,” the surprise winner said.
Quick Facts
Year founded: The stand-alone building that houses Little Longhorn Saloon dates back about 100-plus years, says co-owner Terry Gaona. Before becoming a bar circa 1940, the building was a farmhouse, a gas station and, briefly, a restaurant.
Interior: Family roadhouse. Portraits of Ginny Kalmbach and Dale Watson hang behind the bar, reminders of the people who have left their mark on the saloon. Likewise, framed photos of musicians cover the wall behind the bandstand. The chicken coop is located in the back, under a Lone Star Beer light that would typically hang over a pool table.
Music: A busted Wurlitzer jukebox sits by the door, right across from the stage where bands assemble six nights a week.
Signature drink: Wine-a-rita, a line of wine-based cocktails, such as a combination of wine, margarita mix and “a couple of other things in it to give it that extra yumminess,” says Gaona. The drinks launched in November.
Draft beers: Six taps, including ones dedicated to such Texas classics as Lone Star and Shiner; the bar also offers 50 to 60 other brands, including craft beers.
Worst day: Gaona doesn’t like to focus on the negative, but she does choke up if you ask if any chickens have died under her nurturing gaze. “I’ve had two chickens die. Those are sad days,” she says. “But we know they go to chicken heaven.”
https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/lifestyle/dive-bars/?hpid=hp_hp-top-table-main_divebars-635pm%3Ahomepage%2Fstory
