BY DAN VALENTI

PLANET VALENTI NEWS AND COMMENTARY

(FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, TUESDAY, DEC. 22, FIRST DAY OF WINTER, 2015) — First, an important announcement. THE PLANET knows of two beautiful, adorable kittens, from a litter of eight, that are in dire need of adoption. They are in a neglected state, and we need two angels and animal/cat lovers to come forward for a Christmas rescue. They are black as night as cute as Cupid. Please act immediately if you can come through for one of these precious, innocent, little beings, who are in need of a boost. If you want one or both, contact THE PLANET as soon as possible, here or through e-mail at danvalenti@verizon.net. Thank you so much.

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“Why would anyone go to a bar or club in Pittsfield?”

This haunting question, asked by Pittsfield Gazette publisher Jonathan Levine, would have vexed Socrates and Peter Arlos. THE PLANET, though, has the answer, Greek not being Greek to us, having cut our teeth in the Temple of The Aging Greek God (“Dan, it’s over in a flash”).

On a quiz, we would provide the following options to Levine’s question:

1. (    ) to get hammered
2. (    ) to score drugs
3. (    ) to buy illegal football cards
4. (    ) to gamble
5. (    ) to pick up or get picked up
6. (    ) all of the above
7. (    ) to get a weapon

The answer: “all of the above.”

It matters little if the joint is a “swill-bucket” to bottom feeders or a place for the Swells to get loaded and “go ugly early.” Every other dude is either packing loaded heat or carrying some sort of contraband. You go into any Pittsfield establishment, and you literally risk your life.

A Tale of Three Connected Bar Rooms

What, you want “fer instances?” Surely. THE PLANET gives you three.

THE UPSCALE: METHUSELAH, 391 NORTH ST., PITTSFIELD

You’ve probably never been to Methuselah Bar & Lounge. You can’t afford the

Methuselah’s Veddy Upscale bar. The world’s oldest profession, eh? And more, we suspect.

veddy overpriced grog and grub. You know your into the faux elite when the joint’s own attorney describes it as  an “upscale wine bar.” Uh oh. This label tells you all you need to know. Methuselah sniffs up to The Suits and the hoities, such as they are in Podunk, Mass. You know the type: Big fishes in tiny puddles, drunk on their own delusional self-importance. They bully the poor, helpless, innocent, and honest. In the face of dragons such as THE PLANET, though, they shrivel like gonad sacks in ice water.

Methuselah, named after an Old Testament dude more than 900 years old, was cited by the Pittsfield Police Department for crowding more than 80 people into its vagina on Oct. 15. The safe harbor, you see, is limited by permit to 49 lost souls. State inspectors called out Meth for its violation, but the owner, Yuki Cohen, did what all the Connected who Know Somebody do in Pittsfield. She ignored the state and blew off the violations. Yuki is not only Connected. She’s female and a minority. In today’s politically correct world, that’s a license to square the circle. Untouchable.

On Oct. 23, police responded to another call. Methuselah had more than 70 suck ups inside its uterine walls.

When the case for this den of iniquity came before The Stalwarts of the Pittsfield Licensing Board (PLB), the board pulled down its pants, coughed, and said “naughty, naughty.” That was the extent of the consequences.

THE DREGS: JOHNNY’S BEACH CLUB, A.K.A. PEPE’s, 87 WAHCONAH ST., PITTSFIELD

You heard about the one at Johnny’s. A man walks into a bar, swigs and swigs, and — while walking

JOHNNY’s, aka PEPE’s. “What dinosaur on top?”

out — shoots himself in the privates with a handgun he has concealed. Fortunately, being near Berkshire Medical Center, the guy gets rush to the hospital, where he get an addadicktome (Add-A-Dick-To-Me), not to be confused with an appendectomy.

For this gunplay, the Stalwarts of the PLB ordered Johnny’s to close at midnight from its usual 2 a.m. closing. The horror!

This being Podunk, of course, and because Johnny’s is “patronized” by many of Pittsfield’s bold-print names, a short time later the licensing board said “No harm no foul.” They let Johnny’s revert to its 2 a.m. closing.

Riots, fights, drug dealing, guns, and Giant Germs, Rejoice.

THE FASTENED: LACH’S LOUNGE, FENN STREET, PODUNK

Lach’s has diplomatic immunity. It occupies a middle space in a seedy block on Fenn Street across from City Hall. It has a sign at the door saying “Shirts and shoes required.” Nuff ced.

Ah, the dark, “we know, we see NOTHING” atmosphere of Lach’s Lounge, where the Connected color with crayons untroubled.

Recently, The Stalwarts put Lach’s “on notice.” Oh, the humanity! Lach’s is quaking in its boots.

The “notice” — which amounts to a hiccup, two pick-up stix, and a Slinky — came after an “incident” when, police say, a handgun passed from one “patron” to another. Gosh, now why would that ever happen?

O, my brothers and sisters, what the @#*! is happening to our once-dear and lovely city? How much longer will the vast and silent majority be content to sink in the morass of apathy? When will they DEMAND accountability?

Ah, but we are optimists.

The quote of the year goes to that master of fiction, Carmen “Biddeford” Massimaino, PLB chair, who said, “Lach’s Lounge has never had complaints in my eight years.”

Right, Carmen.

And that’s why Georges Bizet wrote an opera about you.

TOMORROW: THE PLANET SHARES MAYOR-ELECT LINDA TYER‘S COMMENTS ON THE AG’s RULING OF THE CITY COUNCIL’S VIOLATIONS OF THE OPEN MEETING LAW. ANOTHER PLANET EXCLUSIVE.

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“Today is only yesterday’s tomorrow.” — Uriah Heep, “The Wizard,” (1970).

“OPEN THE WINDOW, AUNT MILLIE.”

LOVE TO ALL.

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