of a warm welcome to The Orange Room

Tucked between a few of the great peaks of the Cascades and the docile, cool Puget Sound, a sleepy town hides one of the hottest after-hours clubs in the world. One would not know it by walking the streets. On the way into downtown on Commercial Avenue, an arch over the road announces that one is entering tourist country. Home to flocks of retirees, throngs of refinery workers, a handful of fishermen and assorted seamen, and those who serve them, admittedly Anacortes, Washington does not have the sparkle and splendor of a town like Minneapolis or Seattle. Around a few corners, one finds a decaying harbor haunted by the ghost of past prosperity, spooky murals painted by a marginal talented and profoundly disturbed local artist, a ferry terminal that makes Anacortes the gateway to the many spectacular San Juan Islands, a bowling alley that serves a damned good breakfast, and a curious veteran memorial park adorned with a cannon and intricate stone work.

In addition to the crashing of waves and the occasional ferry horn, visitors may also hear the distant roar of living history. Flying out of the Naval Air Station in nearby Oak Harbor, the P-3C Orion stalks the seas near and far, keeping tabs on the world’s submarines. First delivered to the Navy in the early 1960s, the P-3 proved so useful that it continues to be integral to our navy five decades later. It will be replaced in the coming years, but for now one can still spot them roaring four propellers wide across these grey skies. One of the planes still being flown was delivered in 1969. Yes, this airplane first left the tarmac when dirty hippies were smoking joints and dropping acid on Haight-Ashbury Street. Our navy’s aircrews brave the dangers of flying these moving museums without complaint, ensuring that some Captain Communism doesn’t nuzzle up to our coasts in a stealthy old diesel sub.

One gallant P-3 tactical officer, Lt. David “DJ” Litrun, risks his life daily aboard these ancient birds. Unsatisfied with the quaint, tame nature of the night life in “A-Town,” he took it upon himself to establish The Orange Room. When one arrives, he is guided in the front door by the port and starboard entry lights. Once inside, a warm orange glow envelops guests from strategically placed lamps and holiday lights. Your host will serve a visitor a tasty beverage, serenade him with a song, and challenge him with a lively political, historical, semantic discourse. Unfortunately, The Orange Room is located in Anacortes for a limited time: it is slated to move location to Halifax, Nova Scotia in a few months. For now though, one can still raise a glass with Lt. Litrun. You might even run into a few more of the Navy’s finest, including, Duffy, Sugar, Tree, Polish Pistol, Swede, and, if you can handle it, Manlove.

This entry was posted on February 9, 2007 at 7:48 pm and is filed under Friends and Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.