Mix knowledge with alcohol at the bar tonight

Life, The Universe & Hot Dogs: Cosmology at Happy Dog

Sick of trivia, karaoke and billiards at the bars you frequent? If you’d rather jump-start your brain than turn it off while swilling a cold one, try one of these lectures in a bar. From simplistic scientific talks to a storyteller’s forum, these lectures elevate your average bar trip.


May 22: Learned Owl Book Shop’s Book Club in a Bar at Papa Joe’s
Instead of leaving your books in the car while you enjoy a few drinks, bring them inside and talk them over with a crowd at this monthly Book Club in a Bar series at Papa Joe’s in Akron. Tending to keep to the thriller and mystery genre, it's a more relaxed version of the book club your mother attends. Join the regular crowd to discuss Game for Five by Marco Malvaldi. "It's a good bridge book club if you're trying to get into one," says Kate Schlademan, owner of the Learned Owl. If you graduate from the Book Club in a Bar, the bookstore also hosts two more devote monthly discussions at its location. 7 p.m., 1561 Akron Peninsula Road, Akron (Papa Joe's), 330-653-2252 (Learned Owl), learnedowl.com


May 27: Life, The Universe & Hot Dogs: Cosmology at Happy Dog

We don't always get to hear about all of the groundbreaking research happening in Northeast Ohio, let alone meet the scientist behind it. But at the monthly Life, The Universe & Hot Dogs series, researchers from the Cleveland Museum of Natural History and Case Western Reserve University get out of the laboratory to talk about their work to regular folks without making them feel dumb. On May 27, CWRU graduate student Amanda Yoho will explain the Cosmic Microwave Background, or the first visible light in the universe, and its anomalies. "What they do well is they know how to balance [their lectures]. They know it's not a technical audience, so they don't go super technical about their description," says Happy Dog owner Sean Watterson. It's even encouraged, and possibly mandatory, to get a hot dog while learning about astrophysics and evolutionary biology. 7:30 p.m., 5801 Detroit Ave., 216-651-947, happydogcleveland.com


June 11: Told No. 3: Home, Sweet Home at Market Garden Brewery

Everyone has at least one story to tell, according to ToldCLE creator Dave Sabol. ToldCLE is the forum to shape and hone your storytelling skills. Anyone can find courage in the liquids available at the bar and tell a tale based on the evening's theme, Home, Sweet Home after featured storytellers Afif Ghannoum and Cindy Reagan let loose. Although this will be the second held at Market Garden Brewery, Sabol says that he only has two stipulations about ToldCLE's venue: a separate room (so bar noise doesn’t interrupt) and alcohol. 7 p.m., 194 7 W.25 St., 216-621-4000, marketgardenbrewery.com, toldstories.com

One more reason to love the Cavs' Z

To walk into Close Quarters Pub, Zydrunas Ilgauskas has to contort. He cocks his head and slides in. The Avon Lake dive is maybe the size of a one-car garage. You’d have trouble fitting a 1950s Chevy inside, let alone a giant Cavalier. And walking around, he has to be careful. Some low-hanging areas won’t house all 7-foot-3-inches of him.

The bar only has eleven chairs, but it’s known to well-known folks out on the west side. Dick Jacobs has been in there before. He bought a round for the packed bar once, owner Harry Schindler says. It cost him all of $50. Schindler says Jacobs laughed when he told him how much he owed. The Conway brothers used to bring some of the first kegs of Great Lakes Brewing Co. beer out there to be served.

The first time Z was in was one of those crowded nights, the better part of a decade ago. Z stood along the back wall, then realized he could sit comfortably on a ledge others rested their drinks.
He fits in there. At least as good as any man too big for a small bar can fit. When he walks in, sometimes there’s a gasp, Schindler says. Not because he’s a millionaire. Not because he’s a basketball star. But because he’s seven friggin feet tall.

“The people in the bar are in awe of his size,” Schindler says.

But as he settles in the bar with his wife or a buddy, he slowly fades. “This is the kind of place you go to laugh, not talk about serious stuff,” Schindler says. “And he likes to laugh. We knew he’d fit in the first time he leaned back and laughed at the conversation.”

The bar isn’t far from his house. It’s the kind of place that would never be built today. It pre-existed zoning, and sits in a front yard of a home. Until 20 years ago, there was never a bathroom. The bar patrons just (attempted to) head to the house and use the john.

And I love the fact that of all the places Z could choose to belly up to a bar, he picks a place like this. It just further emphasizes the point made in Jeanne Roberts' piece on the big guy in this month's magazine: Z is Cleveland.