The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, April 20, 1995, Image 3

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    The Battalion • Page 3
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fanyon dances into Northgate scene
By Michael Landauer
TJhe Batfalion
93-7^
00
ia e
here was one motivating factor
in Don Ganter’s mind when he
bought the Campus Theater in
1 “I bought the place out of sheer terror,”
I said.
\ Ganter, who also owns the Dixie Chick-
i and the Dry Bean Saloon, opened
orthgate’s first country dance hall two
peks ago. He said he was worried that
pmeone might open a place that would
pnipete with other Northgate bars.
I But Ganter and his wife, Angela, both
id that Shadow Canyon has actually
ought business for the other bars.
“We hope to get the crowd that normal-
leaves the Chicken to go dancing just to
ime over here,” Angela Ganter said.
I The Ganters said they have gotten a
Dsitive response. Shadow Canyon has
id a capacity crowd for three of the six
ghts that it has been open.
! “So far, everybody’s just loved it,” An-
ila Ganter said. “The people like the bal-
iny where they can go up and watch peo-
je dance below.”
[ The interior of the club took eight
pnths to finish and uses generous
inounts of cedar to create a rustic at-
psphere.
The building was built in 1939 and
lowed movies for 44 years. Angela Gan-
[r said she remembers being a student
*fhen the theater, which showed pomo-
1 ■tophic movies in its later years, finally
ut down in 1983.
The original stage is in place, but the
or has been leveled to make dancing
sier. Everything from the high ceiling to
e balcony and walls is covered in cedar.
There are two fully-stocked bars and,
e the Chicken, customers who aren’t
ncing or playing pool are expected to sit
d carve their names into tables while
[aying dominoes.
Sharia Vaughn, a senior education ma
tt’, said she likes the new club and ex-
cts it to be successful at bringing more
ople to Northgate.
“It’s kind of like transplanting the Dix-
Chicken into a dance place,” she said,
it’s an entertainment spot. It’s not just
mewhere to go and sit. If you don’t
ink, it gives you something to do.”
Vaughn, an Aggie Wrangler, said the
iusic and the atmosphere make her
el at home.
“It’s not your glitzy, sequin, smoke
lachine-type atmosphere,” she said.
It more a relaxed, home town, coun-
^ jy-type place.”
While the dance floor is not as large as
ose at other local dance clubs. Shadow
wr
4
iV' 1 jl(
Canyon offers a different appeal. Ryan
Gotten, a freshman environmental design
major, said he likes not having to drive to
Bryan just to dance.
“The atmosphere’s different from all
the other places,” he said. “There’s a close-
n6ss iyh.0T© 19
With over 400 CDs and a $20,000
sound system, Angela Ganter said Shad
ow Canyon is equipped to play whatever
music is requested as loud as the crowd
wants it. They play a mix of old and new
country as well as some rock’n’ roll, but
she said they always stick to danceable
music.
The Ganters said they hope to bring
a few big-name performers to Shadow
Canyon’s stage in the fall. For now,
they are counting on their location and
word-of-mouth advertising to keep the
dance floor full.
Don Ganter said having a dance place
on Northgate keeps people from driving
across town to go dancing after hours of
drinking at the Chicken. It also makes it
possible for northside residents to walk to
a dance hall.
“It’s shorter to get to the Canyon than
it is to get to their vehicle,” he said.
Although his initial investment was a
defensive move by Don Ganter, he said he
is happy with how it turned out.
“I’m really glad I bought it,” he said.
“It’s turned out really beautiful inside. If
it’ll do what it’s done in the last six days.
I’ll be very happy.”
Eddy Wylie / The Batfai ion
Coffee and death provide unique Lazio s vibe
By Jay Knioum
The Battalion
A fter three months of hell. Dead
Lazio has finally been given
life at Northgate.
Crammed into the small space left
empty by the late Condom Station,
Dead Lazio’s Coffee Fkib has finally
opened its doors — three months late,
but better that than never.
Dead Lazio’s is the brainchild of
Aaron and Matt Brown, the owners
and founders of Sweet Eugene’s House
of Java, a popular hang-out for cap
puccino aficionados of College Station.
In order to reach a more-ready stu
dent crowd hungering for coffee and
baklava, the brothers Brown teamed
up with an old college buddy from Cal
ifornia, Dave Atkinson. Running a cof
feehouse was a dream of the three,
and they now own two of them.
Atkinson said that chronic lack of
funds and higher California start-up
cost kept Eugene’s from opening on
the West Coast. So, the operation has
moved to College Station, where both
Aaron and Matt had attended Texas
A&M.
Coffee lovers accustomed to the at
mosphere of Sweet Eugene’s are in for
a different vibe from Lazio’s.
The motif for this place is, well,
death.
Atkinson said the name for the
place came from an episode of the
“Laverne & Shirley” sitcom. In the
show, the character Squiggy has an
uncle named Lazio who owns a restau
rant called Lazio’s Place.
“Squiggy’s uncle Lazio died, and
willed the restaurant to Squiggy and
Lenny,” Atkinson said. “They wanted
to keep the name, but wanted to
change it and honor him dying, so they
changed it to Dead Lazio’s Place. We
all thought that was kind of funny.”
Thus, the whole vibe of Dead La
zio’s is dark, but without the depres
sion.
“It’s kind of taking a joking look at
death — it’s not serious by any
means,” Atkinson said.
Atkinson said the feel of this coffee
house is rougher than Eugene’s. Dark
colors, concrete floors, ultraviolet
lights, a couch imported directly from
the Playboy Mansion and a giant,
eight-ton concrete bar all make Lazio’s
a unique Northgate hideout.
Possibly the most striking feature is
the metal 1930s-era casket that serves
the back of the place as a sort of “cof
fin-table,” in Atkinson’s words.
Atkinson said the coffin came from
a former A&M student in Houston
who owns a casting company. This
man had a metal coffin from the ’30s
laying around, and was happy to do
nate.
At the moment, the casket is empty.
But not for long.
“We haven’t got a body for it yet,
we’re working on that,” Atkinson said.
“We’re gonna get a mannequin, and
dress him up in a tuxedo.”
The crowning achievement will be
the “corpse’s” head, which will be a
full-size model of the human head,
cased in clear plastic so one can see all
the gory details.
It was probably this slightly twisted
sense of humor which got the Lazio
crew through the past few months.
Faced with setbacks, construction de
lays, nonstop work and little sleep, the
raising of Lazio was a grave matter,
indeed.
Troy Brown, a Lazio’s employee,
said the work was nothing but chaos.
Brown listed such problems as dead
beat contractors that left the work
hanging for three weeks, problems
with constructing handicapped-acces
sible bathrooms, and virtual 24-hour
work by the whole Lazio’s crew.
The Lazio’s staff agrees that the
support from students and nearby
Northgate businesses has been a big
help.
“We’ve had probably 50 to 60 people
a day stopping and asking us when
we’re finally gonna get open,” Atkin
son said. “Our answer is a running
joke right now — ‘Next week.’ We’ve
been saying that for two months.”
Atkinson said that Northgate fits
the mold for the Lazio’s‘vibe perfectly.
He said the coffeehouse can become a
haven for students who either aren’t
into bar-hopping, or for those who are
into it a bit too much.
“I like the bars around here,” Atkin
son said. “But this is another place for
people who don’t drink, or who have
been drinking and want to take some
time to sober themselves up.”
“Obviously coffee doesn’t sober you
up, but it can give them time away
from it.”
Atkinson said some visions of the
Lazio’s motif got out of hand.
“Dave and I started getting a little
carried away when we first started do
ing this, getting a little morbid,” Troy
Brown said.
Two of these “little morbid” ideas
that were scrapped were regular obit
uary postings in the bathrooms, and a
“Wall of Fame” depicting great deaths
in history.
“We wanted to take a Barbie doll
and torch it. After it was all burnt, we
could put in on the wall and write
‘Joan of Arc’ under it. Also, a bloody
glove on a plaque, which says ‘Nicole
Simpson,”’ Brown said.
“We didn’t want it turned into a
haunted house, and that’s kind of
where it was going.”