A Taste of the <i> Real</i> Real Thing

Theme restaurants are no longer chic, I guess. The trend was based on novelty, and the newness quickly wore thin. The holes revealed that there was very little underneath.

Dining at one of those restaurants--whether it is a Mexican village or a British aerosquadron headquarters--is like eating at an amusement park. The food usually is mediocre, and all the time you know you are on a set--and an idealized set, at that. Eating at Victoria Station never was like eating at Victoria Station.

Which brings us to a spot you can’t miss on the ocean side of Pacific Coast Highway in Seal Beach. At first glance, this place appears to be the corniest theme restaurant of all time.

The sign says it’s the “Glide’er Inn,” and to emphasize the aviation theme, a big model of an old-fashioned airplane is mounted high atop a pole on the roof. The plane’s propeller spins in the breeze.

You stop for a look, and you can’t believe how coarsely they have attempted to reproduce the ‘30s. The job just hasn’t been done with any style--not one plastic Tommy gun or case of bootleg booze, not one gangster limousine out front.

Then, after a closer look, the paradox becomes apparent: It doesn’t look like the real thing, because it is the real thing. This really is a ‘30s restaurant, not some food chain’s idea of one.

The Glide’er Inn is 55 years old and still pulling in a large and loyal clientele. It has built up a history, not manufactured one.

Its aviation motif is the real thing, for the barnstormers of the ‘30s really did come here to linger over a meal and drinks and talk about flying. The inn’s original pilot register, now decayed and guarded like King Tut’s coffin, contains Charles Lindbergh’s signature.

There have been only two sets of owners during those 55 years. The current set--Jerry and Karla Benzl and their daughter Caroline--bought the inn 13 years ago, expanded it but worked hard to maintain the old atmosphere.

“This is like a part of the past, a gate to the past,” Karla Benzl said. “We come from the Old World (Czechoslovakia), and that sort of thing is part of our life.”

In Orange County, 55 years ago might as well be 55,000 years ago, considering how little it resembles life today.

According to the book “From Jennies to Jets: The Aviation History of Orange County,” a Ray Crawford acquired an airstrip on a hilltop near Seal Beach in the late 1920s and started building gliders there. The market for gliders was slow, however, so Crawford turned the place into an airport.

It got lots of use, being so close to Anaheim Bay, a popular bathing beach. Pilots flew there to spend a day at the beach or to give beach-goers short airplane rides for a penny per passenger-pound.

It was popular for another reason, too, the book says. In 1930 a diner opened across the highway and derived its punning name from the airport. The original sign stated: GLIDE’ER INN and E A T Fish, Steaks, Sandwiches Tamales, Clam Chowder, Chili PRIVATE BOOTHS

The brotherhood of fliers began using the inn as a sort of lodge hall. After the Navy bought the airport and the bay as part of the Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station, the Glide’er Inn was moved up the street.

Kathy Livick hired on that year, 1945, as a waitress and waited tables until 1983, when at age 73 a broken wrist forced her retirement.

She remembered it being “a very busy place. There wasn’t the freeway, so everybody was on Pacific Coast Highway. They’d all stop at the Glide’er Inn.

“We used to get a lot of celebrities who were going down the coast. I waited on lots of celebrities: Gene Kelly I admired very much; Joan Crawford and whoever she was married to; Victor Mature, he was quite a he-man then; Alan Hale was a very good customer.

“Louella Parsons used to be one of our regulars. She’d go into that little bar behind the kitchen and get so stoned I don’t how they got her out to the car.

“The gambling and the bootleg liquor, that was before my time.

“When I first started working there, I hated the place, absolutely hated it. It was like going out into the country. But it grew on you. The people there, and the customers, they were so nice. They treated you like you had to be part of the family. I worked with another girl. She and I worked there for 28 years, when she quit.

“The place hasn’t changed much. The new owners, when they came in--it’s only natural--they wanted to change things. He’d tell customers he was going to improve things, and some people would become indignant. Even if we so much as changed a dinner roll, customers would have a fit.

“We had a lot of repeat customers, and they were spoiled. A lot of attorneys and doctors came in on Friday nights and spent the whole night there. You can’t do that sort of thing anymore.”

Inside, where aviation memorabilia covers the walls and model airplanes hang from the ceilings and the “world’s largest hand-carved propeller” decorates the bar, the sign is still mounted beside the sit-down counter: “All aviators are requested to sign our pilots register.”

And they still do: “7-14-85. The crab legs are just as good as they were in ’79. Am now well into retirement. Will be back soon. Keep the flat side down and the A/s up.”