In Manhasset everyone arrives late but on Wednesday, Sept. 21 at Barns & Noble there was nowhere to park a good 15 minutes before J.R. Moehringer was scheduled to speak about his best-selling memoir, The Tender Bar. The setting is Manhasset in the bar near the end of Plandome Road, and townsmen packed the book store eager to listen and maybe recapture a smidgen of their youth in that landmark pub, no matter if during their time it was called Gino's, Dickens, Publicans or, currently, Edisons.

"My memoirs are a 'failed novel,'" Moehringer announced to the overflowing, enthusiastic crowd. "I started out creating a work of fiction, calling Fast Eddie Fast Eduardo and Smelly Stinky but the work was abominable. When it was suggested I write a memoir and that I just tell the truth, which has worked for me as a reporter, I did much better. It was a crucial decision to use real names in the book." Moehringer elaborated, "There was vivid stuff I remembered and I went back to 'them' and if they also remembered it I was satisfied with the memory. Those guys might not remember what they had for breakfast yesterday but remember every funny thing they ever said in the '70s."

"Them" is the cast of characters that peopled the memoir, the staff and steady clientele of Dickens/ Publicans in the '70s and '80s when the author was growing up. J.R. bMoehringer lived 72 steps from Publican's in his grandparents' revolving household with his mother, aunt, cousins, and Uncle Charlie, the bartender at Dickens and J.R.'s entry into his hungover world. Moehringer was starved for male attention, having only his absentee father's voice -he was a radio broadcaster- and his idol, baseball player Tom Seaver. "Whiskey and baseball were the smells of my childhood," he said.

Looking out at the audience Moehringer said with a touch of reverence and delight, "Will there ever be another night in the history of The Tender Bar when you can walk around and meet so many characters from the book?"

"There's Tommy Meehan the security guard at the time who took me in to see my idol Tom Seaver, and there's Michelle with her baby. There's McGraw, as handsome as ever. And Joe DiPietro who never doubted I would finish the book. We all did a lot of laughing together and laughter was a big part of writing the book."

"Brandy Snitcher is over there and she let me interview her for the book.

There's Cager, too, and I see he even has a book, but of course there is no receipt in sight. I could have written the whole book about him. And there is Georgette, and her mom sitting in front of her. Don Taylor, too, and remember the winner take all game with Fast Eddie which the whole town became caught up in.

"It was always a pleasure to be with them, tonight it is an honor. Please give them an incredible round of applause."

Later, during the Q&A he was asked "Were you scared how people in town would react?" Moehringer answered, "My mom has a credo that people should not be hurt. I asked permission and only two in town said no initially and they came around. Another person I couldn't find but it was such a loving portrait I didn't think he'd care. No one refused permission. We were all a part of Publicans and I could be trusted to do it, to tell the story. If I didn't use their legal names I used their baptismal ones, the ones Steve gave them. Steve dunked and renamed them."

Moehringer recounted a story about Manhasset. "My first publisher was amazed with the speed stories travel after I showed the book to two people and with the Manhasset grapevine they shared the stories in the book, then the stories appeared on the Internet and my publisher said, "You know, I would like first right of refusal.' Another told me he bought the book because 58 people e-mailed him about it. In a town full of storytellers an event isn't real until you tell someone. And then they tell someone. Manhasset is a special place." He smiled broadly, "Manhasset has flown under the radar for 400 years. Will you ever laugh as hard as when with a group of Manhasset people?"

How does the Manhasset of today compare to the '70s?" "Storytelling still exists today," he said thoughtfully, "and the serendipitous collision of personalities lives on."

More to come.