“Fox’s? You’re going THERE?” my Dad would say. He was a professor at the University of Miami and always thought of Fox’s as a seedy poorly lit dump.
Which of course it sort of was – but it was ours, dammit.
Kizzy – December 2008
Fox’s was not where I had my first drink in a bar – that honor belongs to one of the early incarnations of Revolver when I was writstbanded and I sort of looked at my friends like a deer in headlights before they yelled at me to get a beer. I bought a Corona. It was acceptable. This was in a bar off of Biscayne the name of which of course now escapes me because it’s long since been razed and replaced by condos, but I digress.
I couldn’t really afford to drink between the ages of 16 and 22, much less deal with driving the 20 to 30 minutes home afterward. However between thrift, proximity to home, and atmosphere, I’d always scrape something together and head over whenever anyone mentioned Fox’s.
I had my first whiskey soda there as well as my first Manhattan although at the time I’d normally be sticking to vodka and cheap beer as I had no idea what I was doing. Friends would peel off to go fiddle with the jukebox for a bit or start conversations out in the back with strangers. It was here and at this time that I learned how to ask a bartender for something without looking like a total idiot, which now might be considered my first toddering steps into adulthood.
Alicia – December 2008
We’d sit in a dimly lit booth and pretend for a moment we were older or more important than we were, all of us going on to get older and some of us either growing into the latter fiction or never letting go of it.
Fox’s was always there – always on the right before Mom would veer the station wagon onto Sunset Drive towards the Grove and home. My older brother and sister both learned to drink there and dragged their friends with fake IDs to the package window in the back. I was always a little tweaked that something would happen out there but as far as I know it never did.
Tim – December 2008
My dad eventually grew less salty about the place although he never failed to shake his head slightly whenever I mentioned it. I should note that the first date he took my mother on was to The Tavern in Coconut Grove circa 1971. I can’t imagine it was any nicer back then and I’m not sure what this says about my father’s sense of taste.
For whatever reason Fox’s was a place that always struck him as a where vice and only vice occurred, which it of course didn’t, but most nights us kids could pretend it did.
Richard – December 2008
Rest of the photos from that night are here.