Kindred spirits

LUSH LIFE Serious drinkers sound off at Lolita.

If you’re the sort who believes that debates at bars rarely get above the level of “Tastes great!” “No, less filling!,” then Todd Seavey has got news for you. As the host of Debates at Lolita, he’s on a mission to bring a higher level of discourse to New York nightlife. Since 2005, he’s invited pundits to duke it out (metaphorically, that is) at the Lower East Side watering hole once a month. Topics run the gamut from politics—last month’s alcoholic argument examined whether conservatives should vote for libertarian candidate Bob Barr rather than John McCain—to frothier pop-culture matters, like “Does Christian Rock Suck?”

Not surprisingly, when conceiving issues for upcoming disputes, Seavey has found that sex sells: Subjects like “Is It More Painful to Get Dumped or to Do the Dumping?” and “Is Chastity a Good Idea for Singles?” have drawn the most people and offered the least predictable points (dumpee Rev. Jen won the crowd with an anecdote about how heartbreak caused her to drunkenly tumble into a ditch and bruise her tailbone). “With the traditional right-versus-left debates, you come in knowing what each side’s argument is going to be,” Seavey notes. “But on things like dating, you get a quirky, personal viewpoint you’ve never heard before.” His next discussion, on the merits of selling one’s eggs, will presumably elicit some unorthodox perspectives.

Policy on the Rocks, a lecture series presented by multipartisan nonprofit group Citizen Joe, promotes formal discourse in informal settings, but doesn’t offer analysis on affaires de coeur or pop music. Nonetheless, its gatherings can be quite effervescent. The talks generally feature one speaker who presents both sides of a national-policy concern. Last season included “American Idle” at Chelsea’s Star Lounge, in which monetary strategist Marc Chandler (Brown Brothers Harriman) pondered whether the U.S. is losing its competitive edge in the global economy while audience members imbibed Singapore Stings, the evening’s signature cocktail. “Don’t Be Crude” at Meatpacking District nightspot Gaslight offered remarks by Economist scribe Vijay Vaitheeswaran on the necessity of energy independence. Despite the gravity of such subjects, organizer Julia Kamin says that participants often have more than just the issues on their minds: “We don’t call it a singles event,” she says. “But people come knowing that this is at least 50 percent a social gathering. Recently, a couple who met at Spirited Dialogues [a separate Citizen Joe series that preceded PotR] gave birth.” Drinking Liberally, a popular party that has helped lefties get together since 2003, is another option for folks seeking politically minded hook-ups. And website Think Drink New York (thinkdrinknewyork.com), has tapped into the trend, chronicling splashy talks around town.

Given the turbulent times, it’s no surprise that everyone needs a stiff drink—and a low-judgment forum to vent about the failures of the Bush administration, inconvenient environmental truths, inflation and myriad other woes. In fact, the marriage of cerebral ideas with physical pleasures seems to reflect the high-low blur of our current climate; giving similarly serious treatment to Super Tuesday primary results and celebrities’ right to privacy—both subjects covered in Seavey’s debates—is certainly the product of a culture in which Britney graces The Atlantic Monthly and HBO’s John Adams might follow Project Runway in a Netflix queue.

Since October, Fox Business Network has been cashing in on the joys of pitchers and punditry with Happy Hour, a talk show in which co-anchors Cody Willard and Rebecca Gomez expound on the day’s top news stories for a live group of patrons at the Waldorf-Astoria’s Bull & Bear Bar, serving up a heady mix of business, entertainment, sports and politics. Though segments have titles like Quick Shots and First Round, Willard says he and Gomez are strictly forbidden from tippling on the job. Guests—an array of actors, Wall Street types and other personalities, who’ve included Neil Patrick Harris (Willard’s childhood best friend), Whoopi Goldberg (the View cohost walked away with some lucrative stock tips) and (full disclosure) TONY editor Michael Freidson—are denied liquid courage as well, but Willard credits Bull & Bear’s convivial ambience with encouraging their candor. “José Canseco was really disarmed on our show,” he recalls. “Normally he’s very defensive, but he was opening up with us. He accused A-Rod on air, explaining why he couldn’t believe he wasn’t in the MLB report and busted for steroids.”

Seavey is similarly convinced that the setting of his discussions goes a long way in releasing inhibition. “There’s an expectation that nothing bad can really happen in the bar, and it will still be fun at the end of the day. Even if we’re debating a big, serious topic, people don’t feel as if they’re going to flunk if their side loses. They’ll just drink more.”