Old man bars are often confused with dives, but I think it's time we finally differentiate between the two. Sure, both have bad lighting, low-class drinks, and countless questionable solo drinkers. Making things even more nettlesome, during a dive bar's daylight hours those questionable drinkers are almost always old men, because who else has the free time and disregard for their liver to start drinking at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday?
Here's a point-by-point breakdown of what's similar between the two, what's different, and which one's winning.
The Lights
It's always so bright at old man bars. Why? Because old men would not be able to even see in your prototypical dark dive. And while "not being able to see" is quite the lure at most dingy dives, especially if you want an excuse to lower your sexual standards, an old man bar's lighting needs to be diner-bright so the old men can read.
Not books, certainly not smartphones (old men still have flip phones they keep turned off and in their cars' glove boxes), but newspapers. Tabloid schlock like The Post or Daily News always cover the top of an old man bar just like dollar bills paper a strip club stage. Other old men may study the Racing Form, even if there's nowhere nearby to bet on a race, or even watch one.
Media Platforms Design Team
The Beer
Like dives, old man bars have few taps, and if you ask for a beer list, the bartender will surely reply, "We got everything." "Everything" meaning Bud, Miller, Coors, and their lite counterparts. Cheap longnecks of peeling-label macrobrews pulled from a wet cooler. Maybe some canned classics like PBR, Schaefer, or Genny Cream.
But old men drink these beers non-ironically because they're so cheap, and what kinda asshole pays a lot for beer? Old men would be outraged to hear people spend a dollar an ounce for some of the fermented obscurities currently on the market. Hell, even dives have started carrying a pricey IPA or two. Disgraceful!
The Booze
An old man bar's spirits selection likewise won't be much better than a dive's, with plenty of Canadian whiskey, blended Scotches, and lower-end bourbons from the iconic distilleries that were big in his youth. Unlike dives, though, where shots are de rigueur, old man drinks exclusively come neat or poured over a pile of hotel ice machine-quality cubes.
If you're so bold as to ask for an Old Fashioned at an old man bar, the bartender—who, oddly, is often an old woman—will spoon a fruit cocktail's worth of bar garnishes into the bottom of a gotham-patterned rocks glass, then pour some Seagram's over that, perhaps spray-gunning a splash of soda water on top. That was how an Old Fashioned was made when it was Newly Fashioned and these old men were young. You'd never ask for an Old Fashioned at a dive, though, lest you get roundly mocked.
Media Platforms Design Team
The Grub
The food situation also differs at the two bars, even if neither have kitchens. No one goes to dives to eat, and if you get hungry, they'll encourage you to order in from a huge binder of crinkled take-out menus residing under the bar. Old man bars often go for a simple potato chip display, a movie theater concession stand contraption for cooking hot dogs, or an ancient crock-pot with some chili simmering away.
The best old man bars have mini-buffets on their back wall as if a banquet is occurring soon, tiny Sternos heating up aluminum foil trays of foods you haven't seen in the non-old man bar world in decades (pot roast, Salisbury steak, potato skins if you're lucky). Even better, you never pay for food at an old man bar. It's free so long as you're drinking. Try getting anything for free at a dive.
The Entertainment
Unlike dives, which often have killer jukeboxes, the volume is always low at old man bars. The old men want to have conversations if need be. For that same reason, old man bars often are lacking in 21st Century TV technology. While dives rarely have televisions—no one wants to know what's actually going on in the outside world while they drink away the day—old man bars are often obstinate in sticking with a single tube TV that still utilizes rabbit ears.
But, did you come to an old man bar to drink or to watch television? The answer better be the former, because you're not going to locate that second division rugby match out of New Zealand at an old man bar. The local news on mute should be good enough. You can join the old men in commenting on the gorgeous newscaster and how fucked the political state of America is.
Media Platforms Design Team
The Popularity
Unfortunately, old man bars are disappearing. While nowadays anything gets labeled a "dive" that lacks an in-house charcuterie program and a lengthy selection of fresh juices and syrups, old man bars merely seem to exist in artsy movies like Nebraska. You can't go on Yelp and sort by "old man bars" like you can for "dives." Zagat doesn't have a ranking of your city's top ones either (This "crusty" "old man bar" is marked by…). And no old man bar has a website proudly proclaiming "The tri-state's TOP old man bar!" like so many of these so-called dives do.
Sadly, it's debatable whether a single old man bar still exists in Manhattan, though I might accept Jimmy's Corner or Holland Bar. You'll find a few more old man bars in the outerboroughs—Astoria has some great ones—and, of course, in smaller towns across America. Perhaps because all the young men have left those areas for bustling big cities full of countless dives.
Still, as a lover of old man bars, I'm not worried—all these dives will be old man bars in a few more decades. I'll be an old man by then, and I'll be waiting.
ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7pr%2FQrqCrnV6YvK57xaimnWWUp7avt46bmKurX5aAen2YbWasrZKpuaZ5w6Kdn52imruksdJmpqWcXaKur3nBmqlmmZ6ZeqJ5w6Ktnmc%3D