Familiarity Breeds Comfort

Essentially, bars are the same. They distinguish themselves on the excellence of things not seen. The connection you enjoy with the bartenders and servers. The casual conversation you have with a manager. The impression you absorb as you look at a throng of strangers, who are enjoying the evening with you…

I want to walk into the bar that remembers my name, what I drink, what my job is… There are very few venues like that in this city… Mostly, walking into a bar is like checking into airport…. And if you order something more complicated than a bottled beer, you’re lucky if you get it by Thursday…

Thankfully, the Frog Bear and Wild Boar Bar is that ideal place myself (or anyone else in their right mind) covet… Upon my arrival, the doorperson shakes my hand… Jeff, one of the best promotions people in this city, remembers what I drink, and orders me one… And for the next six hours I am never without a conversation or a drink…

It’s this attention to detail that makes Frog Bear and Wild Boar such a spectacular venue… And the attention to detail is personified by Owners Tom Selvaggio and David Allsbrooks, two people whom I’ve spent hours talking with in the past two weeks… I could have spent five minutes and still comprehended the joy with which they approach their occupation….

Most nightlife owners see their venues as cash registers… They simply ring the bell and take the money… They are content to count that money, never interacting with a single customer… Selvaggio and Allsbrooks are the exact opposite… They interact, they talk, and they are visible… They not only genuinely enjoy their jobs… They appreciate everyone who chooses their venue, over the hundred other choices in this city…

And on this night, those hundred other choices must have been vacant… After speaking with Tom for an hour, David for a half hour and Jeff for at minimum, twenty minutes, I started to take stock of the bunny population… And the stocks were at record highs… Whether I was walking through the stage area or the nightclub area or the hallway leading into the tiki room, the bunnies were everywhere…

As I’ve said before, I always judge venues on energy as opposed to crowd population… Tonight, the two were equals… Every room was a constant buzz of conversation and a continuous banquet for the eyes… (Did I mention there were bunnies)… Whether the pack was two or four or ten, the array of bunnies was stunning…

Also stunning was the unequaled crown jewel of Frog Bear and Wild Boar… (Anyone want to guess who I’m talking about?)… Amidst one of my many conversations with Tom (who is a tremendous conversation), I felt a smack on my hand… I look toward the bar and it’s Abbi… exemplary, exquisite, superb Abbi… We talked about the previous column and then I had to ask… Why did she switch from jeans and a gray t-shirt to a black pants and a black shirt with Carolina blue piping? “It’s Frog Bear’s birthday,” she responded… (For those of us who looked at her in that outfit the rest of the night, Thank Goodness it was Frog Bear’s Birthday)…

Now, if you read this morning (and I’ve seen our traffic numbers, I know you did)… You know I labeled Lodge’s Kadi the crown princess… I know what you’re thinking… Is Abbi equal to her, is she a step below or above… Abbi is in her own category… She has an appearance that is unrivaled and a personality that is more delicious than any two-pound box of chocolates that anyone received last weekend… Without question, Lodge’s Kadi is the crown princess… But, Abbi is the duchess…

And Abbi wasn’t the only adorable kitten Frog Bear and Wild Boar had behind their bar (although Abbi was the most adorable)… One was dressed in black sequins and a skirt, which I don’t believe could have gotten any shorter… The other was dressed in a virtually backless gray ensemble that made at least four bunny chasers stare (and those were the only one I saw)… If someone out there has the names of either one of those, I would love them for future reference…

With the crowd’s energy continuing to increase, the Seventeenth Floor finally took and the stage… And they were worth waiting for… While the lead singer’s choice of cap was questionable (he wore a bright yellow and dark blue, no not Michigan, Milwaukee Brewers hat), the band’s brilliance is not… Their intensity, their working of the crowd were unparalleled, even by Frog Bear and Wild Boar standards (and that’s saying something)…

The trickiest element in judging any rap, be the vocalist solo or ensemble, is the set list… If the selections are overly gangster and push the thug envelope, I am immediately disinterested… However, if the selections are a compilation of Will Smith’s greatest hits, I am immediately disinterested… The set must possess balance… Hard enough that I know I am enjoying rap… Soft enough that I am not in fear for my life…

The Seventeenth Floor passed the test… They aced the test… From “The Cupid Shuffle” to “Get Low…” From “Gin and Juice” to “Forgot About Dre…” Their play list was perfection… There is something about a great hip-hop song… The unorthodox chords move you and you remember, not just the moment, but also the feeling the first time you heard the song… Listening to Seventeenth Floor’s renditions, that special intensity, which only rap possesses, crackled in the air…

As I swapped the electricity of Frog Bear and Wild Boar’s crowd and Seventeenth Floor’s selections for the frigid (ok, not deadly, but still unwanted) air of February, I walked with two thoughts… Seventeenth Floor needs to perform again live and soon… And Frog Bear, given their excellence, deserves another seven days of birthday celebrations…