Naked With Dad
I've been going to the Schvitz since 1973 and have taken many "virgins" there ["What the Hell Is a Schvitz?," February 23, 2011]. Many of my family members and friends go with me whenever possible, and we all love it: The heat, the steak, the friendship — it's all good for us. I feel as if the low profile adds a little something, a little mystery perhaps. If it's not for you, that's OK; it's not the kind of place that can make everyone feel comfortable. But for me and my friends and relatives, there's nothing like the Schvitz.
Spurned by the Schvitz
Last night, I had two friends who go to the Schvitz with me head up there after reading your article. To get in now, you have to ring the buzzer. A guy comes down and asks how you know about the place and who you came with. If you don't have the right answer — and some people don't, because he said people said they came because of your article — they'll tell you to shove it and leave.
Men and Their Boys
The Schvitz brings back warm memories of our fathers and grandfathers taking us as young boys to get some heat and enjoy a great steak. Most of us have lost our fathers and grandfathers, so the needle on the nostalgia meter redlines every time we walk into the place.
The Schvitz offers great old memories, and we make great new ones every time we go. It has not changed since 1927, and this is what makes it so great. As for the author, I think he should have written about Chuck E. Cheese, not our beloved Schvitz. I take my steak medium, Pittsburgh garlic only.
Need a large towel
It's a damn shame that these are the women who represent Cleveland burlesque, because what they're doing is nowhere near what real, true burlesque is ["From Bust to Boom," February 2, 2011]. Only performing in gay clubs because of negative comments elsewhere? Grow a thicker skin! Maybe it's because Bella Sin dances like a foal with a broken leg.