Max Fish as seen today.

The first meeting took place at Max Fish, a bar on Ludlow St. in Manhattan’s hipster-hood, the Lower East Side. A half-dozen or so local cartoonists came out and proceeded to get sloshed and draw comics about hookers, penises and alcohol. Such a good time was had that it was decided that it should become a regular thing, K. Thor Jensen said something about the jams being the beginning of an art movement, to which Cheese said under his breath, “Yeah, a bowel movement.” And thus, the Bowery Bowel Movement Jams were born.

Note the incorrect date on this flyer, this was January 2002.

The group gained in popularity those early months, and soon attracted a regular crowd of nearly twenty local artists from as far away as Long Island. After a year, they started growing out of Max Fish and an expedition was sent find a replacement watering hole. After stopping in every bar between 34th and 23rd on the east side, our intrepid explorers found what would become their home for the next five years, McCarthy’s bar and Grill.

This is a parking lot now, sadly.

Front page to the website just before the name change

Not long after, seeing as they weren’t anywhere near the bowery, the name was changed to the House of Twelve Comic Jams. The Jams stayed at McCarthy’s for nearly five years, right up to thier closing in March of 2007.

After that, one jam was held at a bar on 14th Street called O’Hanlon’s which was fine, but while the back room they provided was fairly private and well lit (the most important thing when looking for a jam spot) it also offered small, low tables.

The back-breaking tables at O’Hanlon’s, and Dave McKenna
trying out for Guess Who’s The Spaz.

Luckily, a week after the O’Hanlon’s Jam, Miss Lasko-Gross had a book signing at the popular New York comic shop, Jim Hanley’s Universe. On his way to the event, Cheese walked by a pub on the same block, Jack Demsey’s. He looked in the door and recalled a faded memory of the place having a large basement room. After further inspection, it turned out to be pretty perfect.

The Jam Room at Jack Demsey’s Pub.

Demsey’s has been the jam’s home for the last three and a half years, either in this basement room, or because of occational scheduling conflits, an upstairs lounge. We’ve seen drunks come and go, hookers negotiating with johns and at least one little Irish guy get his head bashed in by a guy the size of a tank. That’s not to say the place isn’t safe, it’s just the the real life expereience you get living in the greatest city on Earth.

To be continued….