Origins of a Titan

I'll keep this one brief.  There are a few of you following these posts from far away, across an ocean.  As it were, you may not be aware of what role the Electric City has played in the birth of one of the giants of industry today.  You've undoubtedly heard of Thomas Edison, that inspired inventor who brought us the phonograph, the motion-picture camera, Tamagotchis, jacket potatoes, and the iPhone 4S.  Just to name a few.

In 1892, Edison General Electric of Schenectady merged with the Thomson-Houston Electric Company and created General Electric.  And today, that giant is everywhere, spread across the globe.  Look around your house, no matter where you are; I guarantee you will find that iconic GE logo.  I certainly did.  I also found 83 cents and the remote.  From the parts in the planes you fly on to the power that runs through your house, GE is probably involved.  And it was all born a quick walk away from where I'm typing these words.  Just something to remember whether you're driving past the lit up sign on 890, or going for a midnight snack in your GE refrigerator; Schenectady has been the birthplace of greatness. 

Clinton's Ditch: Part 2 of 2

I've made my rounds of the bars here in the Electric City.   I've danced until the doors closed at the Union Inn, I've answered the obscure trivia questions at the likes of Bombers and Pinhead Susan's.  But when the time arrives to have a solid drink, or chat with friends in a good place where the music is neither too loud, nor too soft...well, the Ditch is the place to be. 

In 2005, the doors opened on Clinton's Ditch. A new city bar transformed from an old vacant 3500 square foot building to a modern, energy-efficient structure, courtesy of Re4orm Architecture.  The Schenectady Historical Society even graced the property with an award, as the bar still maintains a very true-to-form look despite the heavy facelift.  What's even better news is that Tim Trier, who owns the Ditch, has begun the construction directly next door on a replica of the old City Firehouse.  A building that would that would be a more than 125-year-old structure in this day and age.  According to our own Daily Gazette, it would be the "first historic replica project ever attempted in Schenectady."  To read the description of what Trier has planned for the site when all is said and done is quite inspiring.  To give a spoiler or two, again courtesy of the Gazette, the firehouse will open up an entire new section of cooking space, complete with a wood-fired oven.  For anyone who has been to a Pizza Night here at my flat, you'll know how much I'm looking forward to this.  To crown it all off, we'll also be looking at space for a whopping 50 more dining customers.  Cha-ching.

And what may you, loyal taxpayer, enjoy most of all?  There's not a penny of public financing involved in the project.  Trier has taken the cost completely upon himself.  If that's not worth a pint at his establishment, I'm not quite sure what is.

Alright, now to the good stuff.  If you'll kindly directly your eyes above this sentence, I'd like you to meet The Cuban.  Hello Cuban.  No cigars, 1959 Caddies or Commie propaganda here.  This sandwich is lush folks, there's really no other adjective that touches the pure culinary joy of this simple delight.  It's pork.  It's lovely.  Schwing.  Let's delve a bit into the food for a moment.  The selection is just what you want from a bar: No tome of a menu, just enough of a selection so everybody feels welcome.  The portions?  Perfect.  No feelings of guilt when you leave half your plate untouched.  No, it wasn't the fault of your appetite you couldn't finish that reuben at another restaurant.  It was because they gave you a portion fit for a large ocean-dwelling mammal.  Or Dom DeLuise.  You finish your meal with a full stomach, but not one bursting at the seams.  It may seem like I'm harping on about this, but think about the last time you ordered a meal in a restaurant and were perfectly sated by the result.  I can't. 

Bear in mind that I'm no regular here.  Despite the thirty second walk door to door, I stop in here for lunch maybe every other week. I've gone in for drinks a handful of times on the weekends.  A blogger must sample a variety of places, am I right?  And yet the bartender, bless her heart, has never failed to remember the very first beer I ordered months ago.  They get plenty of regulars, the day in and day out crowd who are lucky enough to call this place their lunch break.  So when I sit down from time to time and my priors are remembered, well that makes a guy feel special, doesn't it?  And we all love feeling like unique and beautiful snowflakes, don't we?

When the weekends come there are DJs and dancing, a mix of a crowd to make anyone feel welcome.  The doormen are always polite, and the crew tending bar sling drinks with the best.  They know they've got a line, and they never make you wait long.  You'll be drinking alongside young professionals, old timers, those in between, and of course the ever-adored college crowd trying to find their own niche inside.  The drink specials are solid, and this bar is good at letting you know when they're coming.  This is a good place, and I mean that in the most sincere form of the word.

What more can I say, dear reader?  Drink here.  Eat here.  Unwind here.

Until the next time (which I swear will be much sooner than this last one!), thank you for reading!

Clinton's Ditch: Part 1 of 2

These seven days have passed far quicker than I could have imagined.  I never meant this much time to go by between posts, so thank you for being patient with me!  From the conceptual beginnings of The Electric City Redux, I've always wanted to write up something on Clinton's Ditch.  Maybe because it sits just around the corner, the first bar I pass going into town.  Maybe it's the fountain of history behind the name.  Maybe it's the hot bartender.  

Erie Boulevard

But it seemed that every time I went to go grab a drink there, I forgot my camera. Pictures are a large part of this blog after all, so no pictures meant no post.  For all of you that know me, you know that I can't use my phone as a backup.  Sure, it has a camera, but that's a fairly liberal use of the word.  The quality of resolution on that thing makes people look like they were built of Legos.  As of this very moment, I still haven't taken an interior shot of the Ditch, so this blog will be posted in two parts.  In this first part, we'll explore the broad history behind the name Clinton's Ditch.  It should give us a bit of a backdrop to the old Schenectady, and it might even explain why the potholes on Erie Boulevard are so sickeningly bad (Hint: Think of the movie "Tremors").  In the second part, we'll look at the bar itself, one of the best places to grab a drink in downtown Schenectady.

DeWitt Clinton, by Rembrandt Peale

Once, when asked who the greatest statesmen in the United States was, Thomas Jefferson replied "DeWitt Clinton," or so legend holds.  It then goes that Jefferson let out a snorty laugh, because who has a first name like DeWitt?  Admit it, you'd do the same.  It must be remembered that this opinion was very controversial at the time.  Many politicians believed this title should have gone to Strom Thurmond, a rising young Senator at the time (1803).  

Many of us relate Clinton's Ditch with the institution that sits on 112 South College Street in Schenectady, a fine watering hole indeed.  But that moniker comes from a piece of New York history who's importance sits second only to the 1915 purchase of the Yankees by Colonel Tillinghast L'Hommedieu Huston (Honestly folks, we are dropping the ball these days when it comes to naming our children).  On July 4, 1817, construction began on one of the largest feats of engineering ever attempted in the United States up to that point.  A project that would cost an enormous sum of money, and an equal amount of political clout.  A plan so audacious that Jefferson himself called it "a little short of madness."  This, as we all know, was the plan to build a bathtub to fit Orson Welles.  You can imagine the political conflict at the time, as Welles wouldn't even be born for another 98 years. 

Ha! That July the 4th was actually the start of construction on the Erie Canal, eventually connecting Lake Erie to the Hudson, and hence the Atlantic Ocean.  It would revolutionize commerce in New York State, but as with most bold projects, very few could see the merit from the outset (Did someone just say Obamacare?).  Governor Clinton had been the one to convince the State Legislature, against massive opposition, to appropriate $7 million for the project, and it was there that the people found its nickname; Clinton's Folly, or Clinton's Ditch, became the popular label for the dig.  Running from Buffalo to Albany, an impressive 363 miles, the canal took eight years to complete.  Canada, not wanting to be one-upped in achievement, proclaimed that not only would they decimate their own cod fisheries, but would do so in only seven years!  Typically, they didn't manage to do so until 1992.

The opening, combined with a series of New York canal constructions bewteen 1823 and 1828 met with huge economic success.  It only took nine years to fully recoup the cost of the project through tolls. The NYS Canal website points out the effect can be shown easily on a modern map.  With the exception of Binghamton and Elmira, every major city in the state sits along the trade route established by the Erie Canal.  Even today, nearly 80% of the upstate population lives within 25 miles of the canal. 

Now comes the real twist: How many of you realize that, as you drive down Erie Boulevard each day, you're driving over what was once a branch of the Erie Canal?  There it is!  The Aha moment!  The name does seem to make sense now, doesn't it?  That's right, where State Street and Erie intersect there was once a bridge... 

This was the in-town route of the canal until the 1920s, when waste build-up and community pressure resulted in the filling-in and paving of the route.  

                            What was this...                                                                                             

 

                          Became this...

Notice the GE plant in the distance

                                                                                     
And right alongside this bustling thoroughfare sits a handsome brick building with a low slung archway for a door.  It's through this door I'm going to walk tonight and get myself a drink.  And this time, I'm going to have a camera.  I will sit with my beer and look out at the traffic rushing by and think of a slightly slower time.  An era when the movement outside might have been barges and foot traffic, not semis and sedans.  I will think on the name of the establishment I sit in, and remember that folly can sometimes end up as fortune.  

 Keep a close eye here in the next few days for part two of this post.  As always, thank you for reading!