My parents love telling the story of us living in Ladispoli, Italy (in between Russia and America, most people made an Italy or Vienna stop) and them leaving me outside the bars in my baby carriage because, well, that’s what people did in Italy in the late 70’s! Kids in bars–bad. Kids in baby carriages outside bars–worse.
Posted by Karol at 08:31 AM
Technorati Tags: Bars Drinking Kids+in+bars
babies aren’t allowed in bars in america.
yikes. someone should call the inspector. they will lose their liquor license if people under 21 are in their bar…unless the parents have got fake ids for teh toddlers…
Hey, babies like to play Golden Tee too!
Also, anything is better than parents walking around with their kids in casinos.
Where do Irish families go on vacation?
A different bar.
Hey-oh! I’m here ’til Tuesday.
In Britain and Ireland, pubs are family/neighborhood gathering places. In Irish neighborhoods in NYC, that was the tradition too.
When I was little, grandma used to tell grandpa not to take me to the pub to meet his friends after trips to the park. So we went to the candy store instead – a kind of smoke-filled candy store where he drank a Guiness-shaded milk shakes with his friends while I played pinball or watched a game of pool.
The Beer Garden in Astoria is quite family friendly.
I grew up spending a lot of time in my grandfather’s bar in downtown Cleveland. I never thought there was anything unusual about being there. It was a popular spot for police officers and my godfather was the state liquor commissioner, they thought it was fine for me to be there. I remember eating lots of maraschino cherries and playing pinball too.
It’s the taboo attached to alcohol that leads to underage drinking and alcoholism. Most children take restrictions as a challenge, not as adult wisdom.
It’s also a German thing. You go to the beer garden as a family.
There’s definitely a time and place for families in bars; the sort of place that has sawdust on the floor isn’t a family place, but the places which are more and more like restaurants are fine.
Mary, I remember many a happy hour in the back of a car or the empty backroom of a club, when the boys of my family got taken out in the car owned by my Uncle Mick (a rare bird as he was an Dubliner serving in the RAF on leave at the weekends). Happy days.