Wide Right is the most punk rock bar in all of Denver in the year of 2021.

The lady is out of town tonight, so I had a hall pass to do whatever I wanted… So I went to the Paramount Theatre and watched one of my favorite writers/npr personalities speak! Super exciting! But before and after the show, I stopped at the best gosh darn bar in downtown Denver, WIDE RIGHT.


It’s a magical place of cheap drinks, great bar food that doesn’t feel hoity toity, and just a great vibe. When I’m there it reminds me of the clubhouse feel that the Triple Nickel Tavern in Colorado Springs had when I worked there…. and that was just the daytime.
I came back after standing in line for two hours to meet David Sedaris. (more on that tomorrow, probably?) I was debating going home, but instead I flipped the Toys for Tots coin that was sent to me in the mail to entice me to donate money.
It has a teddy bear on one side and the United State Marine Corps logo on the other. It seems as good a coin as any to flip and help you decide fate. Obviously the Teddy bear is the HEADS and with HEADS I would go home, and tails, I go into the clubhouse for adventures and open mic night.

I had never been so damned happy to see a Marine in my life as I opened my palm to the USMC logo staring back at me.

I went in and found chaos. It was open mic night, just after a huge show at Ratio just down the street. It was open mic night alright, but tonight in the full moon it felt oh so much more like a party. It felt anarchic. It felt alive.

Wide Right might be the most punk rock bar in all of Denver right now. They didn’t need to have bands playing here or people dressed a certain way! Wide Right is a divey, welcoming, performance arts space.

It’s full of crazy drugged out artists just looking to make strange, weird art. I sat in the back and watched open micer after open micer eat shit. I watched a kid meltdown on stage, and I watched a bunch of really crazy, excited and scared people try to make art in a room full of people who don’t much give a shit.

It was wonderful. It was electric. It was home.

You could feel this creative desperation in the air and it was almost as intoxicating as the house made cocktails ($3 everyday during happy hour)!
Maybe it’s the David Sedaris stories running around in my head, but I came home and felt compelled to write about this magic that I witnessed tonight in “downtown Denver.” It may not look the same, or feel the same… but there are places in this city where magic still happens. There are places here where people can still go chase those dreams, and not be judged. There are places still here in Denver, where you can go and feel like you’re still in your small hometown.


Wide Right is a magical place. It’s a place I want to go to and visit when I have the almighty Hall Pass from the GF. It’s the place I want to try eating shit at stand up again (the few times I tried stand up in the past I was just thrown on shows by a guy with initials for a name who just used me for connections, but that’s a whole other story as well…), and it makes me want to surround myself with people who just want to fucking MAKE STUFF.

I promise, I only had like 3 of those “Spicy” shots. They were good. Meghan makes some mean fucking drink recipes. ($3 during happy hour. 4-6pm every day. That spicy Mango marg was soooo fucking gooooood.)

Congratulations to Meghan and Jeremy. You’re magical people and You’ve made a magical place.

Thank you for sharing that magic with us all.
xoxo

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Tim Barry interview on 20 years of train hopping, how his daughter changed his world and more! (New Noise Magazine Issue 01 – March 2013)

Editor’s Note: This is the raw draft of the interview published by New Noise Magazine. This draft has not been seen by an editor. There will be errors. In the year since TIM BARRY has released 40 Miler on Chunksaah Records, he has celebrated the 20th anniversary of his first train ride. He has also become a new father to his daughter Lela Jane Barry. We join Tim and talk about his early train ride memories, battling diabetes and how having a daughter may or may not change his song writing. I’ve read that as of March, it has been 20 years since your first train ride.  That is correct! It was actually right about this time of the month, too.  It was about mid March. I can’t remember the exact date, but my buddy Ronnie [Lee Graham] took me on this first trip. We debated the date a whole bunch. I kept saying it was 1994 and he kept saying 1993. I decided it would sound cooler if it was ’93. So that is the year I went west. He was probably right. So 20 years ago, right about this time of the month, I took my first freight train trip from Richmond, Virginia down to Rocky Mountain, North Carolina. We hitchhiked down to Raleigh and rode some more trains around North Carolina. I don’t even remember how we got back, but it was the first of those wanderings that I did.  What was that experience like? The guy I was riding with, Ronnie Graham. He grew up in a trailer park in Salisbury, Maryland. He didn’t come from a family of wealth. He didn’t come from a family of wealth and like a lot of those families, they had chronic health problems. A lot of his family died young. Others were in prison. His dad was in prison for a long time. He had a transient uncle who rode trains and he sort of turned Ronnie onto it. Ronnie had ridden trains a bunch, just out of necessity. I was sort of obsessed with Woody Guthrie and a lot of the early folk singers, back then 20 years ago. I had instructions. I had a person with me who had experienced so much, so my nerves weren’t as shot as if I had done it on my own. He did most of the footwork. He went into the train yards and talked to the workers and found out which train we wanted. We found an open box car and just drank beer waiting for the train to leave. I was more fatigued by the time the train rolled out at six in the morning heading south out of the CSX ACCA Yard. I was more fatigued at that moment than anything else. It was a hell of an experience. Do you think you would be the person you are today, if it had not been for that first ride? I think I probably would have found another obsession. That’s just the kind of person I am. I just have an instinct to keep moving. I don’t want to sit down. I’m always making plans. I rarely think about things that I have done. I generally focus on things that I want to do. I do many things that are considered normal or abnormal: Music, gardening, camping, canoeing, and riding trains. It never ends. I guess you are where you come from. So yeah, I would be a different person if I didn’t start riding trains all those years ago. What I like about trains is not just the fulfillment of my wanderlust. It is that they are a parallel for life. When I think I have a specific train route in time and the crew change points down, they change. It starts all over again. It becomes another mystery that I feel the need to conquer. Is it track maintenance? Has there been a derailment? Was there a bridge collapse that forced a reroute? I just start ticking and ticking. Again, it’s a parallel for life. Once you think you feel pretty scheduled with routine and with things falling in place, it is thrown for a loop. You have to start all over again, and learn it all over again. I think that’s what quelled my interest. A lot of the people who are obsessed with trains, like myself, are also obsessed with illegal forms of art on the trains. They’re also obsessed with things like birding, tree identification, and hiking every trail in the state. It might even be a neurosis because I find myself interested in all those things as well. It’s very strange the way the brain functions. [Laughter] Train Riding was such a large part of the cultural landscape of the depression era. Many of your songs have a depression era quality to them. Do you ever feel that maybe you were born in the wrong time? Nah! [Laughs] Josh Small is my right hand man and plays music with me. The first time I met his father, Rev. Bobby Joe Small; he is from the first generation of a gypsy family that settled down. Mr Small said to me, after seeing Josh and I play music together for the very first time, “Tim, you old timey in a modern way!” I’ll take it.  I don’t mind being old timey in 2013. I think we have a lot more conveniences than the dust bowl era. In the year since TIM BARRY has released 40 Miler on Chunksaah Records, he has celebrated the 20th anniversary of his first train ride. He has also become a new father, to his daughter Lela Jane Barry. We join Tim and talk about his early train ride memories, battling diabetes and how having a daughter may or may not change his song writing. Congratulations on your baby daughter!  She’s about fifteen pounds and in my left arm as we talk right now, while juggling her and the telephone

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