Marc Glickman

I lived within walking distance of Cap'n White's. It was a real neighborhood venue for me. Of course, I usually drove the four blocks, because by the time I got myself out the door, the music was well underway.

I'll always remember the night some tip jar or gumball machine or charity candy bowl or something was suddenly found to be missing or empty or broken and the waitress went ballistic, insisting that nobody leave the premises until the guilty party was ferreted out and marched off in handcuffs.

I happened to be standing near the site of the alleged crime, by the partition between the dance floor and the bar area, and she hollered that I was not to move, as she figured I was a prime suspect. I remember JC Miller was nearby too--maybe also under suspicion--getting more upset and indignant than I'd ever seen him. I stood there baffled and slack-jawed, not even knowing what she was talking about.

But Lars Hanslin immediately stepped in and gave it back to her with equal fury, saying that he was my lawyer and would sue her for false arrest if she didn't back off RIGHT NOW. He then continued to berate her for accusing the most honest folks in the world who were keeping their crummy place afloat--or something to that effect.

I have held Lars in the very highest regard and a true friend ever since that night!

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