I forgot how small the TVs were. That bat is still there though.
[via Man Freckles]
I took this picture of a tap handle at Toronado way back when I had a phone that actually took photos this size. Dig that crazy typeface!
Nowadays the logo is all normal and boring:
While working on yesterday’s post about the new patio seating at Monk’s Kettle, I started reminiscing about Kelly’s Burger, which was housed in the same spot about a million years ago.
When I was a dirt-poor college student in 2003, a $6 Kelly’s burger was a major once-in-a-blue-moon splurge. And they knew it: On the back of the menu it said, “Not the Cheapest – Just the Best!” Different times. (A burger at Monk’s Kettle, if you add bacon, is $18.)
Here’s the beginning of a Chowhound thread about Kelly’s, started by Chuck McCall on May 14, 2002:
I checked out Kellys Burgers the other day, which just opened on 16th St between Valencia and Guerrero. Their menu consists of (drumroll please) mostly hamburgers (including a Texas burger which comes with a fried egg.) They also have chilidogs and sandwiches.
There were only a couple of other people in there (noon on Saturday). The staff was friendly. Its an order at the counter and they bring it to your seat kind of place. That tall dude who used to work Truly Med. down the block was behind the grill and apparently owns the place.
Oh yeah, that guy! As for pricing:
My total for the cheeseburger, fries and coke was $7.75.
Daaaaamn! I think you could also get a draft beer for $2 at happy hour.
Here’s a pretty good Yelp review by Eggs M.:
I ended up here on a date with the biggest piece of shit asshole you would ever want to have sex with just because he’s got nice arms and laughs a lot. Why, you might ask, do I have sex with these people on the first date anyway??!!! I don’t fucking know. I’ve been doing that since I was sixteen years old, it didn’t work then and it doesn’t work now that I’m old but still lame enough to be taken out for dates to ‘Kelly’s Burgers’. Why does everything have to be such a goddamn fucking nightmare? Should I feel humiliated when I see this guy out with his girlfriend, or just laugh it off? Fuck. Oh, the burgers were good though.
In the comments section of our post from last week about long-gone Mission rock club 12 Galaxies, reader Skyscraper offers another little remembrance:
I miss that place! I worked there from ’05-the end. We used to play pool and poker til the cleaners showed up and then go to clooney’s.
Oh the bad old days…
The other day I was reminiscing with my buddy Jay Beaman about what it was like to see the Fucking Champs at 12 Galaxies right here in the Mission.
The Fucking Champs were sort of a metal band for non-metal-heads I guess? One serious metal fan laughed at me when I said I was a fan, explaining that the Champs were “hipster metal.” I was like, wellllll whatever you want to call it I fucking loooove it.
12 Galaxies was a gloriously scuzzy rock club in the spot on Mission near 22nd that is now called Balançoire. During the early-to-mid ’00s they booked seemingly every band I cared about, and they had cool wraparound mezzanine. It was probably the first place during my tenure in the Mission whose closure hit me really hard (other than KFC).
I was telling Jay that one of my favorite memories was during the period where Bender’s was closed and in limbo after being firebombed. Johnny Davis from Bender’s, one of my all-time favorite bartenders, had picked up a shift or two at Doc’s Clock (right next door to 12 Galaxies) and so I’d walk over there early, buy a drink from Johnny, go see a band, pop back over and buy a shot from Johnny, go back and see the next band, go back and do another shot, etc. etc. until last call. Gooooood times.
I’m pretty sure this was one of those nights:
Pretty light on detail, but it looks like we’ve got Mission Dolores, Mission High, Seals baseball, booze, boozers, the pound, a factory, firefighters’ school, and lots of train tracks.
[via The Bold Italic]