When We Were Young With Our Corvettes - Chapter #17
Corvettes and “The Reuben E. Lee” - Chapter #17
In the early 1960s, John McIntosh, a successful businessman from Corona del Mar, opened a small chain of restaurants in Orange County, California called “Reubens”. New York cuts, skillet fried mushrooms and dinner salads with Paxton dressing were amongst the favorites. If you wanted to impress your date, this is where you took her. The food was the best!
And soon afterwards, right along Pacific Coast Highway, docked in Newport Bay he built a another restaurant housed in a floating 19th Century style double-decked Mississippi sternwheeler paddle boat, named “The Reuben E. Lee” (Reuben was his middle name). Designed by a prominent Newport architect, she was 45 feet wide, 190 feet long, weighted 65 tons with twin smoke stacks but was not seaworthy…two dining levels with separate gangplanks, cocktail lounge, excellent entertainment and dance floor….often a two hour wait for the Fish House (lobster thermador). In the men’s room, chalk boards on the walls so you could harmlessly add your graffiti….kids running on the dock and around the decks. Although a little pricey, this was THE place to go and one of my all-time favorites. It became an instant hit.
This Newport Beach landmark was sold in the 70’s; and was operated as a restaurant under three different names over the years during her decline. Then in 1986, her name was changed to “The Pride of Newport” and became the home of the Newport Harbor Nautical Museum but it later relocated because of heavy maintenance costs and the once beautiful Reuben E. Lee, left to decay, was finally dismantled and sold for scrap in 2007.
All the girls I knew loved riding in the Vette, but few wanted to drive it. Jennifer was an exception. She worked at the office in Address-o-Graph Plates, had an apartment in Seal Beach near me and had the longest legs I’d ever seen (“legs up to your armpits”, I used to tease just so she’d prove me wrong). We were spending a lot of time together so one week-end when her parents came in from Indiana to visit she wanted me to meet them. I made special arrangements through a friend who worked at the just opened REL for Sunday brunch…..and to meet the parents.
Sunday morning, I was in sport coat and tie and off in the Vette to Seal Beach to pick up Jennifer. She ran out to the car, climbed under the wheel, tied her scarf, put it in gear and off we went. She wore dresses to work, but she looked special this morning…and because she thought we’d be late she was getting’ on it….and because she couldn’t drive “stick” without having her skirt ride up, I didn’t care how fast she drove.
In the straight stretch on PCH at Tin Can Beach we suddenly came up behind the CHP. In those days, CHP Motor Officers rarely rode in pairs (despite what you saw on the TV series, “CHiPs”), but there they were this morning in the right hand lane. Jennifer without any hesitation just roars by. I warn her she’s going to get a ticket…she shakes her head no, just as the bikes speed up, fall in behind us and hit their lights. She pulls over and stops, the lead cop walks to her side while the other cop stands at the rear. As he approaches, she wiggles forward slightly in the seat causing her hemline to reach…ah…embarrassing heights. The cop politely asks for her license and registration (which you carried in the car them), but even with the Ray-Bans I can see him admiring those long legs. She sees it too. He goes back to his buddy and now they both approach, one on her side and one on mine. After they’ve seen all they’re going to see, the lead cop tells her to slow it down and enjoy the day…and they get on their bikes and head in the opposite direction. "I told you" she says.
About the parents. We got to the REL on time, had a delightful brunch, all smiles and laughs, good impressions made by all…the bill comes and Jennifer’s Dad thanks me for the meal. This guy owns a chain of wholesale nurseries in Ohio and Indiana and I can barely make my car payments and pay my rent….and he sticks me with the check.
In the parking lot, Jennifer explains that her Dad really likes me and the check “thing” was just a test….and besides that, she’d make it up to me.
We hop in the Vette and head back north to her place. Test or no test, I wasn’t going to let her off so easy…like the cops did. She knew that, too.
In the early 1960s, John McIntosh, a successful businessman from Corona del Mar, opened a small chain of restaurants in Orange County, California called “Reubens”. New York cuts, skillet fried mushrooms and dinner salads with Paxton dressing were amongst the favorites. If you wanted to impress your date, this is where you took her. The food was the best!
And soon afterwards, right along Pacific Coast Highway, docked in Newport Bay he built a another restaurant housed in a floating 19th Century style double-decked Mississippi sternwheeler paddle boat, named “The Reuben E. Lee” (Reuben was his middle name). Designed by a prominent Newport architect, she was 45 feet wide, 190 feet long, weighted 65 tons with twin smoke stacks but was not seaworthy…two dining levels with separate gangplanks, cocktail lounge, excellent entertainment and dance floor….often a two hour wait for the Fish House (lobster thermador). In the men’s room, chalk boards on the walls so you could harmlessly add your graffiti….kids running on the dock and around the decks. Although a little pricey, this was THE place to go and one of my all-time favorites. It became an instant hit.
This Newport Beach landmark was sold in the 70’s; and was operated as a restaurant under three different names over the years during her decline. Then in 1986, her name was changed to “The Pride of Newport” and became the home of the Newport Harbor Nautical Museum but it later relocated because of heavy maintenance costs and the once beautiful Reuben E. Lee, left to decay, was finally dismantled and sold for scrap in 2007.
All the girls I knew loved riding in the Vette, but few wanted to drive it. Jennifer was an exception. She worked at the office in Address-o-Graph Plates, had an apartment in Seal Beach near me and had the longest legs I’d ever seen (“legs up to your armpits”, I used to tease just so she’d prove me wrong). We were spending a lot of time together so one week-end when her parents came in from Indiana to visit she wanted me to meet them. I made special arrangements through a friend who worked at the just opened REL for Sunday brunch…..and to meet the parents.
Sunday morning, I was in sport coat and tie and off in the Vette to Seal Beach to pick up Jennifer. She ran out to the car, climbed under the wheel, tied her scarf, put it in gear and off we went. She wore dresses to work, but she looked special this morning…and because she thought we’d be late she was getting’ on it….and because she couldn’t drive “stick” without having her skirt ride up, I didn’t care how fast she drove.
In the straight stretch on PCH at Tin Can Beach we suddenly came up behind the CHP. In those days, CHP Motor Officers rarely rode in pairs (despite what you saw on the TV series, “CHiPs”), but there they were this morning in the right hand lane. Jennifer without any hesitation just roars by. I warn her she’s going to get a ticket…she shakes her head no, just as the bikes speed up, fall in behind us and hit their lights. She pulls over and stops, the lead cop walks to her side while the other cop stands at the rear. As he approaches, she wiggles forward slightly in the seat causing her hemline to reach…ah…embarrassing heights. The cop politely asks for her license and registration (which you carried in the car them), but even with the Ray-Bans I can see him admiring those long legs. She sees it too. He goes back to his buddy and now they both approach, one on her side and one on mine. After they’ve seen all they’re going to see, the lead cop tells her to slow it down and enjoy the day…and they get on their bikes and head in the opposite direction. "I told you" she says.
About the parents. We got to the REL on time, had a delightful brunch, all smiles and laughs, good impressions made by all…the bill comes and Jennifer’s Dad thanks me for the meal. This guy owns a chain of wholesale nurseries in Ohio and Indiana and I can barely make my car payments and pay my rent….and he sticks me with the check.
In the parking lot, Jennifer explains that her Dad really likes me and the check “thing” was just a test….and besides that, she’d make it up to me.
We hop in the Vette and head back north to her place. Test or no test, I wasn’t going to let her off so easy…like the cops did. She knew that, too.
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