There are several refreshing places to stop for a beverage in our area. They’re friendly, accommodating, and diverse. And that last characteristic is oh so de rigueur these days even if advocates of this variety can’t really explain why it’s valuable. Nevertheless, despite the variability of site, decor, and offerings of these taverns, most are united in one important way. And that way controls the decibel level therein: Their behind-the-bar signs.
It’s common to see a sign posted behind the bar that more than discourages political topics. And that’s good, especially in these polarized times and in our two-minds community. This restriction requires patrons to find other topics to discuss, ones that seldom lead to heated disagreements.
However, another restriction on topics has nothing to do with politics but instead is imposed by mobile phones’ ability to search the internet and thus settle data disagreements promptly and at no cost. For example you might opine that Fran Tarkenton was the best quarterback in Vikings’ if not NFL history. That’s easily confirmed or dispelled by an instant search of The Net. What’s the largest city in Wales? Easily learned. Who put the Bomp in the Bomp ba Bomp ba Bomp? Trivia lovers have no advantage over those disinterested these days. (Barry Mann, by the way.)
So with no political chat permitted and no facts mysterious, you’d think the high top tables would be quiet -- nearly silent.
If you think that, you’re underestimating the level of disputation that a pitcher of Hamm’s can evoke.
It was with these limits considered that I asked the table of Ely sages if they remember a time when County 21, i.e. the road to Babbitt, was called “Moose Lake Road.” Well, the question is neither political nor answerable by the internet so I thought it was a safe one. There was nearly unanimous agreement that No, that road had never been called Moose Lake Road. How could it? There’s no Moose Lake down that way. I agreed that there’s no Moose Lake that way -- that’s why I thought it was an interesting question. A mystery that needed to be solved at this place where mysteries are solved. No, the jury was nearly unanimous that there had never been a time that 21 was called “Moose Lake Road.”
Nearly. I turned to Sam, the Number One Ely-Winton historian, a man whose knowledge is not only thorough, but also respected. A man who concludes every declaration of significance with “...and that’s no Bull.” The lessor historians at the table listened for his vote. Yes, County 21 had been called “Moose Lake Road” in our youth. I knew it! Our friendship of seven decades ratcheted up yet another notch.
OK, but why was it called “Moose Lake Road” when it didn’t go to Moose Lake? Because time changes things (an apothegm popularized by Hibbing’s Robert Zimmerman) and Moose Lake, that one south of Ely, had a name change somewhere in its history to Johnson Lake and the then-obsolete name stuck for a few years.
Why the road didn’t become “Johnson Lake Road” remains a mystery. And an allowed topic for future discussions.
Ya gotta have rules and when you do, this is what you get.
Doug Luthanen grew up in Ely and graduated from Memorial High School in 1967. He wrote a weekly viewpoint column for the Northwest Arkansas Times for four years and is an occasional contributor to The Ely Echo.
