Joining the March of Bacchus

Alcohol has long served as the obliging consort of any worthwhile scholarship. The Latin proverb in vino veritas holds true all these centuries later, but that bit of pith only scratches the surface of the relationship between drinking and learning. Ever take a close listen to Monty Python's "Drinking Song"? If not, I recommend doing so before sitting for a Lit Hum final; not only a useful mnemonic, the lyrics are in fact a catchy Cliff's Notes of many philosophical programs. In addition to a memory aid, alcohol also serves as a wonderful psychological encouragement.

Humorist Finley Peter Dunne perhaps said it best when he said. "Alcohol is nicissary f'r man so that now an' thin he can have a good opinion iv himsilf, ondisturbed be th' facts." From the sounds of it, alcohol had made Mr. Dunne "ondisturbed" by grammar, as well, but he has a point. When the going gets tough, the tough get going to bars. Here's a comprehensive guide, compiled after exhaustive field research.

The West End (114th and Broadway)

The West End claims to be where Columbia had its first beer, and that's to say nothing about its second through eleventh beers. It's capacious, though show up early on weekend nights unless you would like to wait in line with the entire population of Carman and John Jay Halls. This joint is the most collegiate in the area, or any area for that matter, and looks like it may have gotten its decorating scheme from the set of St. Elmo's Fire. The walls are festooned with gratuitous Columbia paraphernalia, and it's a bit concerning to think what sort of mindset one would have to be in to need the constant reminding of one's whereabouts. A gong dangles above the bar and, when questioned what its use was, the barkeep summarily replied, "Whatever." All said, though, it's pretty much a requisite for graduation. See you there.

Nacho Mama's (113th and Broadway)

Nacho Mama's advertises its $17.95 pitcher of sangria as if that were a deal about which one should be excited. Plus it's well-lit. Well-lit and expensive: two grevious sins in the church of heavy drinking. Moving right along

Heights (11th and Broadway)

Verging on actual classiness, the Heights is the sort of place where one can sit for a meal with the visiting parents at 7 and still feel comfortable ministering the sermon of love at midnight. There is the distinct smell of junior year in the air, and the Heights is usually where courageous first-years first venture after graduating from the West End. Potent frozen margaritas and a good selection of draught beer make this a welcome stop on any night, though not as welcome since the fire commissioner outlawed happy hour on the open-air roof deck.

The Underground Lounge (109th and West End)

At one time, the Underground Lounge was a coffeehouse with bohemian aspirations. Apparently it gave up the good fight and is now a bar, though a bar with frequent open mic nights and folksy performances. The secondhand furniture, sutured with duct tape, evokes memories of a junior high basement party. Still, every Wednesday it's half-priced drinks for card-carrying Columbia students.

Tap-A-Keg

(105th and Broadway)

This is one helluva joint. Seriously. If one makes it all the way down there (and, more dauntingly, makes it back), there is a quality selection of beer and cider, as well as a juke box that plays 10 selections for one dollar, an even better deal than that long distance plan Terry Bradshaw is shilling.

1020 (110th and Amsterdam)

It sometimes takes a while for new students to head to Amsterdam, the ugly stepsister to Broadway's Cin-derella, and that may well explain why this bar is the haven for thirsty grad students and soon-to-be unemployed seniors. All that melancholy and malcontentment is a great recipe for a drinking environment. Go forth and enjoy the best bar around, but beware of an Aussie poolsharp named Jack.

Night Cafe (107th and Amsterdam)

Entering Night Cafe after visiting Tap-A-Keg, one might be overcome with a sense of having been there before. Strikingly similar in both layout and atmosphere, Night Cafe is a bit rowdier than its western cousin, the sort of place where someone like Patrick Swayze might actually be employed as cooler. Local color is what distinguishes this hole-in-the-wall; if you go, say hello to Raoul for me. There are decent drink specials, and the second best pool table around after 1020.

What Bar

(109th and Amsterdam)

Most recent addition to the Morningside milieu, What Bar is still struggling to surmount the dual stigma of newness and a stupid name. Still, commendable drink specials coupled with the latest open kitchen makes this place a passable option; good luck getting in with your library card of an ID.

Saints (109th and Amsterdam)

Saints is the only gay bar in the neighborhood, though it certainly welcomes all patrons. Be adventurous and have some fun.

SoHa (109th and Amsterdam)

Are you a girl? Do you own a sequined halter top? Do you like to dance drunkenly on the bar every time the single from the latest Usher album is played, knocking over my drink in the process? If so, do I have the bar for you. If not, don't go here.

Amsterdam Cafe (119th and Amsterdam)

From the moment you pass by Charles the bouncer until you settle up your 9 pitcher tab with Anwar, AmCaf is a delightful experience. Congenial is an understatement in reference to this establishment; it wouldn't be surprising to hear everyone in the place yell "Norm!" when a regular enters. Sports fans can best get their dosage of televised competitions here. Speaking of medicine, steer clear of the house mixed drink, unless you're suffering from tonsilitis.

The Abbey Pub (105th, off of Broadway)

The Abbey fashions itself as a homey Irish pub, and does a fair job pulling it off. With wooden arches and stained glass windows, it looks like something studied in the medieval section of Art Hum. A very acceptable choice if one finds oneself several months, or years, short of 21.

Cannon's (108th and Broadway)

As a man much greater than I once wrote, Cannon's is "the place where all boozy nights go to die." I couldn't have put it better myself.