Have a Mug of Beer and a Wurst at Astoria's Bohemian Hall and Park

The other day, my boyfriend brought home this ancient film-editing machine he found on the street. It was still in its original box, with the instructions and everything, and while it seemed like an interesting article, I have to say I was a bit put out by it. The last thing we need is one more object gathering dust in our apartment, I told him, with my arms akimbo, tapping my foot. Granted, I have recently started several collections on a whim, and my ceramic pixies and children's handkerchiefs and rulers from Midwestern ice cream parlors do take up a certain amount of space, but this was a big hunk of metal. I thought it should go back to the trash heap whence it came.

Then my boyfriend, Mr. S______ (I am trying to imitate Edgar Allan Poe here, but maybe it is just annoying to use names like that. The enigmatic factor might not outweigh the pretentiousness) got out an old filmstrip he had in the closet, one from 1933, and threaded it through the machine. When he pulled the strip fast enough, the frames coalesced into a movie. It turned out to be a filmstrip about the Chicago Expo, and it was amazing to see these black-and-white images of people and places come flickering to life. The movie jumped from attraction to attraction (a blimp hovering overhead, fireworks along the midway), then went on to showcase the pavilions of the different countries that were represented. One scene showed some jolly Austrian folk dancers and another showed a typical (or so they wanted you to think) Parisian woman selling nudie dolls. It ended with an amazing clip of Sally Rand doing her infamous fan dance. What could I say? I had to admit that I had been too hasty in my judgment, that the film editor was indeed a find.

I mention all this as a way of introducing Bohemian Park in Astoria, Queens, a nearly 100-year-old beer garden, the kind they had at all the world's fairs and expositions back in the olden days. While there used to be more than 800 beer gardens in the city, it is now the last of its kind, and as such, I was already drawn to it when I heard of its existence. Just tell me that something is the last one in New York and I love it sight unseen, whether it is the last photo booth or the last lunch counter serving lime rickeys in those silver shakers.

Bohemian Park, however, would be worthy of this devotion even if it weren't the last one. It sits in the shadow of P.S. 85, around the corner from the Kucera Funeral Home, and it has lovely picnic tables under tall whispering trees. There is just enough light, and when you go through the bar to the garden out back and see the cheery green pavilion and the cement dance floor, you can just imagine happy couples doing the polka or hoisting their tankards and singing the songs of the old country. On the less historic side, it also reminded me of the state parks we camped in when I was growing up. It just had that campground feel to it, particularly because of the indoor/outdoor bathrooms. I had a momentary flashback to a certain Airstream caravan my family was a part of in Montana, but then I was fine. (I know Airstreams have become fantastically trendy and are quite the cool advertising icon, but back in 1976 they were anything but glamorous. I chiefly remember powdered milk made with bad mineral water and cranky senior citizens in bolo ties with their Wally Byam membership tags attached, reciting endless versions of "My Wild Irish Rose." Those are my Airstream memories. Not anything you could use to sell soda pop or golf shoes.)

Bohemian Park is connected to Bohemian Hall, which was built in 1910 as a community center for the Czech people who had settled in Astoria. Apparently, the bar and the outside park were added in 1919, right on time for Prohibition, and no one could drink there for 10 years. Luckily, it survived, and is now a registered landmark. An organization called Place Matters, which is dedicated to preserving cherished local spots, is compiling a census in which people can nominate any site of importance to them. According to this group, New Yorkers have already nominated street corners, stickball blocks, union halls, graffiti murals and, yes, this beer garden. And why not? Grand Central Terminal and Grant's Tomb have their places in the pantheon of landmarks, but a spot where you can get a mug of Bavarian beer and a grilled hotdog (for around $5!) and hang around outside to enjoy them, maybe listen to a little music, is no less precious.

If you need an excuse to make the trip out to Astoria Blvd., remember: you're not just slamming brewskis, you're keeping a tradition alive. Also, if J. Puccio is reading this edition of Scouting Report, this one is for you. If I could be wrong about that damn film editor, I could be wrong about Queens being the redheaded stepchild of all the boroughs. Stop by the garden and if you notice me lurking around, I will buy you a Shirley Temple or a kielbasa or something. Honest.

Bohemian Hall and Park, 29-19 24th Ave. (31st. St.), Astoria, 718-274-4925.