Yes, there was a small fire at No tsu oH late on the night of June 12. And yes, the Houston Fire Department has shut down the king-hell funky coffee shop/chess club/music venue/art gallery/playhouse and cut off its electricity. That much of the word on the street is true. What's wrong is the part of the story that has No tsu oH padlocked for good.
"No, we're not closed permanently," says co-owner Missy Bosch. "We did have a fire, and the damage is pretty bad. When you have a fire, you have to bring the building up to code. So what we're gonna try to do is get a loan on the building and renovate the upper floors. We're still gonna be a coffee shop, but we're also gonna get a beer-and-wine permit. Also live music. Kinda the same thing, but different."
No tsu oH's polyester-shirted co-owner, creative force and guiding light Jim Pirtle tells Racket the story in his own inimitable way.
"Well, we have to get through a uh Marlboro Mediums. Yeah, short." Pirtle is distracted by a friend who's making a smoke run for him. "This is actually the cause of the fire, cigarettes," he says, turning his attention back to the interview. "The damage wasn't from anything other than my own stupidity and desire for nicotine. I woke up naked with fire around me. Fire extinguishers don't work for a piece of shit."
Late that night, Pirtle, who sometimes slept in a crash pad/storage area above the coffee shop, fell asleep on his couch while enjoying the day's last Marlboro. The fire quickly spread from the couch into the 109-year-old building's floorboards. "We couldn't get it out, so we had to call the fire department," says Bosch. "They called the fire marshal and the inspectors, and they were like, 'This is a dangerous place.' "
"We've got to go to a court case, and we don't really know if they're going to charge us with massive fines or what," says a deadly earnest Pirtle. "Apparently we're like a new textbook case in the city for screwing up," he says mirthlessly.
Pirtle is entirely chastened by the experience. From here on out, he says, No tsu oH will be run by the book. He and Bosch are hoping to take out what they estimate will be a $200,000 loan against the value of the building and renovate extensively.
From a financial standpoint, the mere fact that Pirtle and Bosch could swing such a deal is something of a coup: The two bought the building in 1996 for just $20,000 and $100,000 in back taxes. "We bought it six years ago for absolutely nothing, and we didn't have the money to turn it into something," he explains. "Suddenly because of the way property values have gone, we might now have the money to do the building up as it was supposed to have been done then. We'll probably stay closed for a while and retool the entire second floor as a live music venue that's not a cheeseball place. I've got a lot of architect friends and other people who know how to put all this together."
Bosch estimates that No tsu oH will be out of commission for six to 12 months, but both owners see the fire as a blessing in disguise. They admit they had succumbed to inertia. "We always thought we could maybe get a loan, blah blah blah, but now we have to," says Bosch. "The coffee shop wasn't doing so well, and we were kinda getting bored with it. So it's actually a good thing to have had happen. We were talking to people about what we could do, and they were all like, 'Just get a loan on the building, you know? Any bank would be stupid to turn you down.' And yeah, we should do it right now when business is bad and the streets are all torn up. By the time we open back up, everything will be back to normal down there."
Pirtle agrees that downtown business had been slumping, but he's hesitant to blame it on the never-ending construction. "Let's also blame the cycle of people's interest," he says. "I think all the construction has covered the fact that a lot of people's lame ideas had run their course."
Pirtle counts No tsu oH among the stale ideas. Racket finds that view unduly harsh, but Pirtle insists that the decline in business showed people didn't care about the place anymore.
"I felt like it was getting so damn irrelevant in people's minds," he says. "This is the first time I've discovered that people actually care. But it's that damn thing of you don't miss your girlfriend until she leaves you. It's like when you ask her, 'Why did you do that?' and she goes, 'Well, you ignored me and didn't give a shit about me.' If you want cool things in this town, you have to go to them."
But even Pirtle is looking on the bright side. "There's absolutely no damage to the building," he says. "All there is is psychic damage We're not getting busted by someone getting hurt and we're getting sued. There's so many scenarios that could have ended the game as a real sad story. And this is 'Well, Jim got his fingers and hands burned and has blisters on them,' but I'm not gonna sue myself."
No tsu oH's not the only funky venue to run afoul of city codes lately. Washington Avenue's Creative Autonomy Collective is hosting a benefit on June 29 with auctions and live music to help raise the money to bring their building up to snuff. So far Ugly Spirits has confirmed, and they're hoping to add Freedom Sold and other bands to the bill Local rapper Big Mello, born Curtis Davis, was killed in a car crash on June 15. Mello lost control of his car and hit a support pillar on the South Loop. He had just finished Done Deal, his first album in six years For a hilarious telling of an encounter with Houston soul/country wild man Roy Head, check out Randy McNutt's new book, Guitar Towns: A Journey to the Crossroads of Rock 'n' Roll. A salacious Head manages to cause trouble over a pancake breakfast at a far northside IHOP, much to the embarrassment of the author Got your crush groove on? Do you be illin'? Can you be described as "swass" or "funky-fresh"? If the answer to any of those questions is a resounding "Word up!" then you will want to chill at Fresh Hip-Hop, a one-night exhibition of hip-hop mementos -- track suits, fly Adidas shoes and rap LPs -- from the Kurtis Blow-Afrika Bambaataa era. In order to ensure freshness, all of the items will be sealed in one of those "AS SEEN ON TV!" vacuum bags. The exhibit is Friday, June 28, at 110 Jackson Street An audibly relieved Robert Conran, the ill-fated subject of last week's Racket, called from INS jail to tell Racket he has seen a doctor. Conran will be losing a kidney, but we all have two of the suckers and the doctor doesn't think the cancer has metastasized When you think of the Houston Museum of Natural Science, you don't think of music. But soon the T. rex bones and model oil rigs will rattle to the sounds of rock, jazz, zydeco, salsa and oldies. The Mixers, Elixirs and IMAX concert series starts June 28 with swing/jazz combo Blue Monks, and continues every Friday through July 26. The Zydeco Dots are up next week, followed by Grupo Ka-Che, the El Orbits and Yvonne Washington. Ten bucks gets you admission to the show, an IMAX ticket and a crack at the cash bar.
The June 28 Mando Saenz/Hayes Carll show at the Continental Club is an inspired booking. These are the best two twentysomething singer-songwriters in town. Catch 'em now so you can say later that you saw them way back when Big-voiced local blues legend Jimmy "T-99" Nelson has a brand-new album out called Take Your Pick. Duke Robillard guests on guitar, and several other members of Roomful of Blues also appear. In addition to being the only man alive who can approach the late Big Joe Turner as a blues shouter, Nelson is one of the best songwriters in the blues. Take Your Pick is available at Nelson's Web site, www.jimmyt99nelson.com Confession time: Racket's favorite song of the moment is Outkast's "Land of a Million Drums." There's nothing wrong with that on its own, but the tune in question is from the Scooby-Doo soundtrack and features lines like "Kinda tired from a long night of hangin' out with Shaggy." Embarrassing, but true.
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