Our tribute to the holiday services provided by Seattle's Best Dive Bars continues with the Blue Moon (712 N.E. 45th St.).
The cover girl of the book, the Blue Moon is as storied as any Seattle bar gets, will ever get. The man has tried, to no avail, to bring down the moon, but she persists. The Blue Moon is the most respectable dive in town, due in part to the cavalcade of amazing people who line here walls and bar on a daily basis. Her history and cultural importance to the city cannot be overstated.
Her roots reach back the pot-stirring intellectual and artistic movements of the 1960s, and some of those cats can still be found swilling a beer or two today (no, really, today). Tom the bar manager is one of the smartest people you will ever meet, conversant in any topic. The discussions I've had here range from quantum knots and the importance of the arts in early childhood development to the defense of Rob Zombie's cinematic prowess and the merits of d-lysergic vs. MAOI's. But of course.
The Blue Moon is ugly pretty, adulterated magic, and what it means to me is embodied best by the following passage from Jack Kerouac's Old Angel Midnight:
In a universe of waves quel difference betwixt one wave & t'other? T s all the same wavehood & every little unlocatable electron is a Tathagata pouring electromagnetic gravitational light at the constant speed of light (which can be heard in the sound of silence) & so this endless radiation of mysterious radiance is merely the minutia magnificent endless Tathagata Womb manifesting itself multiply & so not at all, for, all things are no-things but if this bores you it's because you want bricks in your soup. Empty.
May she shine brightly and always. Merry Christmas, miscreants.