The Merchants of Venice Boulevard

Credited to The Old Beatnik

 

 

 

By the MUG Man

 

It used to be quite the town to see real theater stars. From Martin Balsam to one of the Booth brothers, they all played here. On more than one occasion Oscar Hammerstein would go swimming buck naked in the canal.

Jane Oliver Twist 1962

 

Chapter Four

 

Noel Bobbett moved to Venice Boulevard from California. Noel was a

Viet Nam era veteran who spent his war years recruiting American businessmen on their way to Red China to do a little spying for their country and his last twenty years as a teacher in urban Oakland. He opened his store on Venice Boulevard in the early 1990's selling a unique variety of vintage and contemporary hand made items; some of which Noel hand made himself to cut down on the cost. The front of his store was a comfortable hangout for anyone who wanted to spend some easy time in interesting chat and maybe even a clandestine shot of tequila.

At this time the record shops of the '60s and the cool hip coffee shops of the '50 were all gone. The last of the Chicago Seven had moved away and the town seemed to be struggling for a new identity. Kalani O'Shay's place still held down Bridge Street in the middle of town and a series of bar/restaurants were scattered all up and down North and South Main serving the tourists and the townies all kinds of epicurean and liquid delights. Every place had a reputation and a favorite food.

"Hey! Where can I get a good burger?" One tourist casually asked Noel early one Saturday in September.

Noel tried to help the poor guy but got hung up a bit in the translation. "Did you want vegetarian…organic…or full octane meat on the hoof?" he asked. "There's also Nepalese, Uruguayan , and Burmese burgers available. Oh, but a new guy across the river there just opened our first sushi burger joint on the river. You sit on your tatami matt and a cute young Japanese girl grinds up a raw fish of your choice right in front of you. You'd probably like the Shad and Cheddar burger best I guess. Its clean, cozy and…ummmm…You Okay there, Buddy?"

The tourist had by this time decided to wait on lunch and just get an ice cream and grabbed his date and headed down the boulevard to Colonel Mountbard's Ice Cream and musket parlor.

Venice Boulevard boasted four clothing stores. All of them were pretty close to each other but each tended to specialize. One store was in the basement of one of the largest buildings on the street. You could go inside and take an elevator down if you had a baby carriage in tow or take the stairs along side the building to the main entrance. The store sold vintage clothing, as its sign read, from the 60's and 70's, (apparently a popular pair of decades in the clothing biz) and the store was always packed with both clothing and people. It was owned by a vintage New Lambert resident too, Clyde Barnes. Clyde had a clothing business in town since the mid 60's when he wandered into town thinking it was really Charlotte, North Carolina. But he stayed after he bought and ingested a tab of brown acid that he got from selling all the clothes he owned from his duffel bag to a couple hippie-chicks from Allentown. That was the beginning of Clyde's vintage clothing business.

Forty years later the Morning Star Vintage Clothing Company is a fixture on Venice Boulevard and Clyde and his ex-girlfriend/employee, the comely Sunshine Bouvier, have become icons in the industry. If anyone from Atlanta to Akron needs anything from a paisley Nehru jacket to a lightly laundered pair of extra flooded Lee super bells they have a good chance of finding it here. Sunshine also had her own reputation in the industry and the town.

It was said that Paul Simon once fitted out his entire road troop of Congolese Kalimba drummers and Upper Voltan songstresses at Clyde's place when their costume truck pitched over into the Pennsylvania Barge Canal pulling out of Odetta's. It was also rumored, but never proven, that Paul and Sunshine made their own deals over a couple rounds of wine coolers at Wanda's and a brief interlude in a dressing room. Sunshine never confirmed the tryst but neither did she deny it. "I've only met Mr. Simon once in my life," she proclaimed to friends after a night on the town, "and both times he was a gentleman!"

The second store that sold clothing was also very busy and sold what could only be described as an eclectic selection of hippiesque fashions, incense, funny bumper stickers and a lot of very cool stuff. It was said to be New Lambert's only remaining "head" shop and came with its own African Gray Parrot, who welcomes shoppers and everyone with a cheerful "Hello, Butch!"

Across the street was the store called simply "23". Named after the address over its door, most of its clientele have no idea where the name came from or its meaning but shop there because of the two guys that run it. Michael Parr and Charlie Woo have been partners in life and business for over ten years and both have their own fans. They sell short skirts, pop-tops and pricey prom and cocktail dresses to wealthy girls and trendy moms from a one hundred and fifty mile radius. The fun part of the place is the way these two guys treat their customers. Every time you come in you get treated like you're there to find the perfect dress and they work hard to help you find it. While they sell you clothes they also have shoes, hats and purses, tee shirts and jackets and every piece is hand picked by Mike and Charlie to make the customer feel good and look GREAT!

Chartreuse Millard owns and runs the last of Venice Boulevard's clothing stores. Chartreuse grew up in town but spent most of her 38 years as a professional female wrestler in Baltimore under the name of Heidi Hitler, the lost daughter of Adolph and Eva. When she left the wrestling circuit five years ago and retired to New Lambert, she returned and opened her own clothing store. One may ask what kind of clothing an ex-professional female wrestler named Hitler would sell, but the better question is who would ever buy clothes from an ex-professional female wrestler. But Chartreuse found her own niche selling a combination of "heavy metal onesies" and anything else that you could put a stud on, and she does a thriving business with the pregnant motorcycle moms that stream into New Lambert in packs on nice summer weekends. Chartreuse, herself, was in great shape still; always dressed in the shortest of skirts the tightest of tops and death boots that just come up to the beginning of a very muscled and well turned calf. Everyone loved Chartreuse…literally.

It was a lovely October day on Venice Boulevard and Noel was sitting under his umbrella sipping on the last hot weather drink of the season; a combination of white lime juice and limeade, sometimes sprinkled with either a sprightly Russian vodka or a saucy Mexican tequila. His neighbor, the colorful Frank Varsucci, was there also and they were, as usual, commenting on the local scenery. "Can you believe that she actually woke up this morning and CHOSE that outfit to wear?" Frank asked, as a voluminous woman in a tight pink and red striped tank top and pants that looked as if they could once have fit a twelve year old, sauntered down the street being pulled at the end of a tiny pink leach by a two-pound Pekinese. She really looked like an ex-candy striper gone to seed. "Doesn't anyone tell her how awful she looks in that?"

"I doubt she even cares," said Noel. "I'll bet you she has at least six more outfits just like that at home in her bedroom closet."

This type of conversation was typical for these two guys because it was probably the only common ground they had to talk about. Noel's liberal credentials could be seen all over his store from the Peace Sign hanging off the back of the building facing the town to his Rainbow flag fluttering in the spring breeze out front. Frank, however, had grown up in the conservative flatlands of Long Island. He was a card carrying life member of the NRA and a bright shiny new Tea Partyist. He made his money in the early years varmint trapping in all the finest houses up and down the Gold Coast of the Hamptons. Frank found and settled in New Lambert five years ago and he opened his shop selling possibly the oddest assortment of things collected from all the parts of his previous lives. He had the world's largest collection of antique Edwardian birdbaths in the world along side at least two thousand pet food bowls. His favorites were a pair of 1000-year-old Chinese water bowls that he touted were used to feed the Imperial bitches from the Forbidden City in Peking. Frank knew which dynasty they were from and could even quote you where they were made if asked but it was his online sale of post revolution French naked lady postcards that kept him in business. He had been given the initial collection of cards by his grandfather at the ripe old age of fourteen when the old man passed away.

"My boy," Grandpa Luis said to him. "These cards have given me hours of pleasure and I hope you will treasure them as I have."

There were at least 3500 cards in Grandpa Luis' collection including a couple shots of Grandma. Frank tripled the collection and by his twenty-first birthday it was one of the largest in the world and he indeed had hours of pleasure with them. They were bought and sold in every country and every corner of the world usually at a huge profit. But it was the giant stuffed clown in the front window of his store that was the main attraction to passersby and many a skitterish customer that wanted to come into the store had to brave the glare of the clown just to get through the front door. Frank's motto was, "If you can't handle the clown, you can't handle the store!"