Honky Tonkin'

Where the Two-Stepping Crowd Heads To Get Its Country-and-Western Fix

"Honky-tonk" is one of those terms like "progress" and "medium rare." Everyone's got a slightly different definition. Is a honky-tonk a cowboy hangout with line dancing? Or a dive bar with rockabilly and guys in bowling shirts? Is it some of both or most of neither? "A usually tawdry nightclub or dance hall, especially one that features country music," Merriam-Webster says.

We needed to be sure. We called Mickey Gilley, whose eponymous bar was the setting for John Travolta's "Urban Cowboy," which in 1980 convinced a generation of Americans that they were meant to two-step for a living. The tag line for the movie: "Hard hat days and honky-tonk nights."

What's Gilley's definition of a honky-tonk?

"It has to be an outlet from everyday life," says Gilley, on the line from Pasadena, Tex. "Just someplace to go and forget about the stress of making a living. To actually dress up like cowboys. When the mechanical bull came into the old nightclub, I thought it was a mistake because I thought people would get hurt on it. And they did. We got sued. Turned out to be a blessing, though, because it introduced the country scene to the disco people . . . ."

And who knows what would've happened if those groups had never united.

Gilley went on about this and that, but here's what we gleaned from him and a few local honky-tonk experts: A honky-tonk is a reprieve from the drudgery of the 9-to-5. An unfrilly space featuring some kind of country music. Welcoming, yes, but the climate must sometimes be right for a fracas. The stink of whiskey or beer is important, as is the barely audible sound of dusty denim sliding on flesh.

"You'd want a down-home atmosphere, with a real friendly bartender or saloon owner and a kind of dysfunctional family as the clientele -- a place to go and dance," says Diana Quinn, vocalist and rhythm guitarist for Honky Tonk Confidential, a Washington-based quintet whose latest album is titled "Road Kill Stew and Other News."

Kind of like a roadhouse -- remember Patrick Swayze in 1989's "Road House"? (Tag line: "The dancing's over. Now it gets dirty.") -- but without the opportunity to lodge for the night.

It comes down to four things, says Silver Spring musician J.P. McDermott: a lively crowd, room to dance (and the permission to do so), live music or a jukebox, and alcohol.

"You put those things together and you have a honky-tonk," says McDermott, the lead singer of J.P. McDermott and Western Bop. "There are a lot of swing dances around town without alcohol, and a lot of dive bars where you can't dance, but those don't qualify."

Of course, true honky-tonks in the D.C. area are hard to come by. One of the local standard-bearers of honky-tonkness, Chick Hall's Surf Club in Bladensburg, is closing next month after more than 50 years in the business.

The neighborhood is evolving, the economy is changing, business is down and the smoking ban was the last straw, says Chris Hall, owner and manager of the Surf Club and son of its founder. Until it closes, though, you can still hear the clack of pool balls, the scuffing of dancing boots and the frenzied and plaintive whirl of honky-tonk music seven nights a week (4711 Kenilworth Ave., Bladensburg, 301-927-6310, http://www.chickhallssurfclub.com).