This tavern is not for the shy- collages of clippings from 70's porn magazines decorate some of the walls, tables and other surfaces. Music varies, but ranges from good old rock and roll to punk rock and even the occasional reggae night. If a good, old fashioned dive is what you're after, consider yourself at home!

Now divorced, Clint's ex-wife Clara's presence is still heavy- the woman has no problem calling shots and giving orders to not only her ex, but his nephew Leon who now works with the pair.

Bearing a striking resemblance to his uncle, I just had to sit down with Leon and find out what this guy was all about. Bearing not only the same nose, but the beard as well, I was curious and happened to catch Leon buzzing by performing barback duties per his aunt's orders. I had just enough time to ask him what he thought an experience at The 44 might be like for any regular old guy just walking in off of the street and like his uncle, he was quick to answer:

"Whoever the fuck y'are, we promise--PROMISE you a good time. Unless you're an asshole," said with a charming twinkle in his eye. I noticed that this twinkle was extra charming when talking to the ladies. They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and that is abundantly apparent with Leon and his Uncle Clint.

Clara Kennedy is a sight to behold, a gorgeous, leggy blonde standing at 5'10"- the same height as her ex-husband. There might be no contrast in height, but there is a stark contrast in appearances and I can't help but notice that it seems as though Kennedy bagged himself the cheerleader.

I finally got the chance to sit down with Mr. Kennedy himself because with his family around and a life outside of the bar, I was curious. Clint grabbed us both a couple of beers and sat down in the empty establishment (it was before noon) to chat.

P: "So Clint, you got kids right?"
C: "Yeah, three." He rolls his eyes.
P: "Hey, that's great man- so do they know what all it is you do here? How old are they now, anyway?"
C: "21, 14, and 11, so more or less, yeah, they know. It's not really relevant to my youngest, but she gets the idea I think."
P: "So your oldest is 21, huh? Daughter, right? What'd you guys do for her big day?"
C: "Yeah, my oldest daughter. Actually, she wanted to do something here, so, you know. Whatever she wants, she gets, y'know?" A sarcastic laugh follows.
P: "No kids, actually. What does she think about, the, uh, porn everywhere? What about your other kids, they been in here?"
C: He shrugs, "Never said anything about it. And it's not porn per se, it's, you know, 70's pin-ups, it's not this guy doin' that to this girl or whatever, no one's gettin' fucked or anything."
P: "Gotchya. But your other kids- they been here?"
C: "No persons under 21 allowed."
P: "Right. So...What inspired all of this? You know, why the 70's?"
C: A sardonic laugh. "Why not? The other decades fuckin' sucked, the 80's? The hair and the spandex? Fuck that, man. The 60's were groovy from what I understand, but I mean, I grew up in the 70's. It's what makes sense."
P: "Clint, we're the same age-"
C: "29?"
P: I have to laugh. "Yeah, forever 29, right? So, you've got a real...interesting style. The dreads are gone, I remember when we first met you were rockin' the dreadlocks and the bellbottoms...That just part of your love for your decade, or? Because the dreads-"
C: "Yeah, well, the pants, definitely. I wear a lot of band shirts and...whatever. But, uh, I've always had long hair, so, the dreads...I just got sick of 'em...

C: (cont'd) ...cut some of 'em out, whatever. I don't care. Might bring 'em back, we'll see. But it's just like anything else you know? Like, rockabilly has a following and people who are into that dress up like fuckin' Elvis and Bettie Page and shit and, y'know, I was dropping my son off at the high school the other day and girls are starting to bring back the Doc Martens and daisy print n' shit. History repeats itself."
P: "You're something of an individual, alright."
C: "Hey, I like what I like. I never gave a fuck. If I did, I wouldn't have opened The 44, I can only imagine what my dad would've said."
P: "Now, you don't just like music from the 70's- you're like a serious record and music collector, right? Because I think we're listening to Third Eye Blind right now."
C: "I collect a lot of shit, but yeah, I pretty much like everything- I mean, of course there's gonna be crappy music out there you don't care for, but, yeah, music is just an essential from the time I wake up until, y'know, if I don't turn my stereo off..." He laughs.

P: "Is there any kind of music, or band that's just banned from your bar?"
C: "Uh. Not really. I mean, Cher and Britney Spears and shit, like, no one wants to hear that shit here, but for Saint Patrick's day I'll let 'em play Irish punk or...If one of my regulars is having a shit day and just really, really wants to hear that Alanis Morissette song, then, you know. I can just go hide in my office."
P: "So, speaking of ladies, I'm sure they thought you were a stud before, but-"
C: "Nope. Moving on."
P: "Fair enough. So you got any plans to ever try and expand or remodel?"
C: "Oh, I've got plans. Should be looking at spring of this upcoming year, but I've got plans."
P: "You aren't going to tell me what those are, are you?"
C: "No."

If you're ever looking for someone to shoot you straight, it's this guy. No better quality in a bartender and there is no better group of people to have a drink with and chill out to some groovy tunes. Thanks, Clara and Clint. Until next time.