Club No Gets a Yes From Teetotaler Teens

Teen-agers once used such verbiage as wasted, gone or smashed to describe an inebriated person. Today’s slang includes such gems as tacoed, burnt and thrashed.

Whatever the terminology, the label is wearing thin for increasing numbers of teen-agers who forgo alcohol--especially at social events.

The trend is fueled by an increased awareness that drinking and driving don’t mix, said Anita Butler, director of education for the Los Angeles chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Drivers.

“Nobody wants to look at themselves as being stupid or as a potential killer,” Butler said. “Younger people are starting to become more responsible for their behavior.”

The only stimulants available at such spots as Club No in Agoura are the opposite sex and the carbonation in the soft drinks. “It’s like a big social gathering, and each week the crowd just gets bigger and bigger,” said Reuben Allen, 16, a Westlake high school student who visits Club No on weekends. “The word’s been getting around.”

The club, open to customers from ages 13 to 19, operates every Saturday night from 7:30 to midnight in the Ramada Inn’s Menagerie nightclub.

“There was a need for this,” said Esau McKnight, 31, who formed the club in September. “The kids have nowhere to go, and this gives them a healthy environment where they can mingle with kids their own age from other areas.”

McKnight, often called “Mr. No” by teen-agers who frequent his club, charges $5 for singles and $8 for couples. McKnight also works with teen-agers at Thousand Oaks Community Center, where he teaches “kaerobics,” a form of karate blended with an aerobic workout.

“We previously had a full-time nightclub in there, but I find the under-21 crowd to be much better behaved,” said Richard Lambright, Ramada’s general manger. “The kids love it. It’s set up as a high-energy disco with a disc jockey, so they have the opportunity to go to something that normally only adults are allowed to enter.”

On a recent Saturday night, Club No was packed with about 200 teen-agers, who lined the dance floor watching friends twist limbs to such dances as the Running Man, the Steve Martin and the Roger Rabbit.

A few girls in a corner booth complained about a friend dishing them (ignoring them), while another said her partner’s outfit was really dope (perfect). Other clusters of friends sipped Cokes and stared at whirling ceiling lights and tubes of emerald neon along the walls.

“There really isn’t anything else around to go to,” said Melissa Denton, 18, who graduated from Agoura High School last year. “Having this club open till 12 is like, really good. You get to meet people from other high schools.”

The only other San Fernando Valley club for teen-agers, Network One in Glendale, closed two years ago, apparently because it was losing money. Karl Kamb, owner of Jets, a popular Long Beach teen-age nightclub, has tried to open a similar club at Network One’s former location.

Glendale’s planning board has turned down Kamb’s request because a new club would increase traffic around the site, which has no off-street parking. Network One was granted an operating permit because traffic was not originally a problem, said Glendale City Planner Dave Bobardt.

“We are looking for any available sights and for community support,” said Kamb, who attracts 500 teen-agers to each of his Friday and Saturday Long Beach dances. “The kids of San Fernando Valley need a place to go, and they need it bad.”

Teen-agers’ clubs have trouble thriving, owners say, because of poor community support.

“Most people simply don’t want us here,” said William Chappel, manager of Mogs, a club for teen-agers in Ventura. “The overall feeling is that teen-age clubs attract problems. But if people don’t want teen clubs, my question is, where do kids go? What do you want them to do?”

A resident who lives two blocks away from Mogs once complained that loud music from the club broke her kitchen window.

“That was our only incident, besides the time one guy hit another guy for talking to his girlfriend,” Chappel said.

Ann Chaney, city planner for Ventura, said planning boards seldom refuse conditional - use permits to teen-age clubs, but she added that community opposition can grow fierce.

“Whenever you have large assemblies of younger people and loud music, you’re going to have complaints,” Chaney said. “We just try to keep the problems down to a minimum.” Operating hours of clubs are usually restricted by the city, and additional lighting and security guards may be required.

Many area high schools have alcohol abuse awareness programs, and 12-step programs such as Alateen and Alanon offer substance-free events, but the Valley offers little else in the form of permanent entertainment spots for teen-agers. Elsewhere, the deciding factor in getting long-term programs off the ground are those who perhaps worry about teen-agers most--mothers.

Trisha Roth and other concerned parents formed Boogie Down Productions Inc. two years ago when a rash of teen-age drinking parties invaded their Beverly Hills neighborhood. The organization, which holds monthly dances, is run by students with an adult advisory boards.

“At first it was hard to get kids to come,” said Boogie Down President James Shin, 17, who attends Beverly Hills High School. “We’re seeing a definite change in attitudes now. About 200 show up for every dance we hold.”

Susan Ingram helped form DANCE (Drug Alternative Nights and Counseling Events) in Long Beach last year. About 70 students attend meetings at Wilson High School, where weekly Friday night dances and other social events are planned.

“I felt if we were asking kids not to use, we should provide a place for them,” said Ingram, whose two daughters attend Wilson. “They come in droves and have a good time. There’s been no problems with gangs or drugs at all.”

Although events sponsored by teen-agers are cropping up more frequently in Los Angeles, many of the teen-agers believe it’s just not cool to be known as an event organizer. Those who organize dances are labeled nerd or wimp , students said, and events are sometimes advertised without reference to there being no alcohol, for fear they will be shunned.

A statewide program, Friday Night Live, sponsors sober dances, movie nights, rallies and other teen-agers’ social gatherings. About 700 state clubs have been formed under the organization since it was created in 1984 by the state Department of Alcohol and Drug Programs. The clubs are run by high school students, with a faculty member appointed as a representative.

No Valley clubs have been formed, but John Brendt, an area coordinator, said increased funding should lead to the establishment of local clubs within the next three years.

“It’s a program that helps empower students to take charge of the issue of drug and alcohol prevention,” Brendt said. “The idea is to come up with alternatives--to party sober and drug-free.”

Two other clubs closer to the Valley, the Ventura Theatre and Mogs, offer weekly alcohol-free entertainment for teen-agers.

Mogs serves alcohol-free daiquiris, margaritas and pina coladas each Friday and Saturday night to about 300 teen - agers who pay $7 apiece to enter.

“It’s definitely not cool to come loaded to this club,” said Chappel. “We don’t let anybody in that’s intoxicated or on drugs.” The nightclub features a disc jockey, computerized lights, 35 speakers, 10,000 watts of power and 4,000 square feet of dance space.

Down the road, Ventura Theatre, housed in a 1920s movie house, serves alcohol, but only to those who wear identification bracelets. Those under 21 are segregated in an area at the front of the stage and in the balcony to listen to such bands as the Pixies, Beat Farmers and the Stray Cats. Twice a month, the theater is transformed into “Club Teen,” where no alcohol is served. The club charges from $6 to $25 a person.

“I think teen-agers are more hip today,” said Bill Detko, publicity director for the theater. “They’ve seen their parents go through some major changes with alcohol abuse, and a lot of them detest the idea of getting screwed up.”