Showing posts with label albert grintuch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label albert grintuch. Show all posts

Monday, July 13, 2026

A La Porte De Le Balajo

In the mid-80s DJs Albert Grintuch and his partner Serge Duprat took over the Bastille nightclub, Le Balajo. Once a week our crowd of rockers filled the large dancehall.I worked the door with Jacques Negrit as security. The barmen and waitresses were the same surly staff as the other nights of the week featuring accordion bands to a rough working class clientele. None was more vraiment Le Balajo than Daniel, the bullish barman, who was a Pigalle wrestler on his off-nights.

Daniel's disagreeability was a matter of Gallic pride.

More than occasionally Jacques and I would hear a disturbance at the bar, but before we could attend to the fracas, Daniel would grab the offender by the scuff of the neck and throw him into the street.

As Albert recently explained his technique, "Quand ca chauffait Daniel le catcheur ne prenait pas la peine d ouvrir les portes vitree de l'entree pour balancer les clients un peut trop debordant, resultat, on remplacait continuelement les lourdes."

In English simply put Daniel chucked out the client without opening the glass doors, which required their replacement with thicker glass door.

Those were the days.

Guess which one in the photo was Daniel?"

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Much more to come__

Friday, July 15, 2016

Nice 1985

The summer of 1985 Albert, Serge, Jacques Negrit and I opened a nightclub in Nice. Our vehicle was Albert's Chrysler Imperial. The city's narrow streets were hell on the mirrors. The long black car had class, although we wished it was a convertible.

Our villa was covered with grape vines.

There was no AC or fans.

During the day it got very hot and we went to Nice to swim in the Med.

Jacques loved the beach.

The Guadalopean was a strong swimmer.

Stronger than me.

A god to the girls on the rocky beach.

But I threw a football with a spiral.

And Jacques caught my tosses with big hands.

Serge and Albert were after a good 'bronzage'.

The sun shone brightly on the azure sea.

My friend Julie and Brigitte had a place up the coast in Antibes.

The terrace had a view of the curving bay.

I liked the beach at Antibes better than Nice.

The Baie Doree had soft gray sand with a subtle beeze carrying the wind from Africa

I wish I was back there today.

Instead I'm off to the Rockaways for an afternoon walk in the winter rain.

On the A train the beach was only an hour away and the price of the voyage is $6.

Back and forth.

It's a good place too, especially with your friends.