by Sam Soule for pdxguide.com

Even when the flashing signage that hangs with great green-and-red neon weight over the sidewalk is in full working order — which, from tonight's angle of approach, it is not; from the south, all lights are on — Billy Ray's refuses to announce itself by name. "Tavern" is all the sign reads.

And it certainly doesn't help matters that two blocks further up the road sits the hard-to-miss restaurant-complex Billy Reeds. Between Billy Ray's and Billy Reed's, confusion abounds. Just ask any local taxi dispatcher.

During daylight hours "the Dive" is more easily spotted. Just look for the two-story house painted a uniformly barn-ish red. But if you end up missing it the first time around, rest easy — and double back. The effort you expend locating this rough gem of a watering hole will prove well worth the trouble.

Over the past four years the Dive has slowly grown into one of Portland's most appealing laid-back taverns, specializing in 22 oz. barrels of Pabst Blue Ribbon ($2.25) and an air of whittled hipness, comfortably aged past any concern for contemporary relevance.

That wasn't always the case. Once there was a time when the Dive could be counted on for free weekly bills of local punk and rock 'n' roll bands, nights that were more house party than nightclub, a time of small city legend. But noise complaints from the neighborhood eventually ended that craziness and since then the Dive has been slowly building a loyal customer base drawn to budget beer prices, an impressively deep music-geek juke box and, more than anything, gritty hang-out pad vibes.

Cast-offs with coherence — possibly a good description for both the decor, and the clientele, of Billy Ray's Neighborhood Dive.

So, on a rainy Thursday night, we enter the Dive after pinpointing its location by navigating a path of ever tightening concentric circles. Sometimes, you hone in for your good times.

From the sidewalk entrance, the ground floor of the Dive is a narrow, red-and-gold painted shotgun affair dominated by a gleaming copper-topped bar. Facing this is a string of slight booths and teetering two-tops anchored at its midpoint by a large and glowing jukebox; enlivened, my party was quick to note, by the varied likes of Ray Charles, The Undertones, Captain Beefheart and Minor Threat.

In the back by the video poker terminals larger groups can sit at a bizarre make-shift table set with fire sale office chairs or a large circular booth with torn harlequin upholstery. Upstairs maintains the house party feel of old with two rec rooms outfitted with foosball, pool, pinball, a wide-screen TV and couches. Psychedelic murals of aliens and urban absurdity cover the walls.

Our night was spent drinking beers and shooting pinball, rocking out in affable space.

The folks who like to call the Dive home (and some almost literally do) seem genuinely down-to-earth, many with punk rock-leaning pasts behind them. However, there doesn't seem to be any set demographic stripe that totally defines the Dive's predominantly neighborhood-based patronage. Draft beer is cheap: Micros are $4 for a 22 oz. stein, $3.50 for a pint. Those who drink small-size PBR (a rarity here) pay $1.75. Cut-rate wine sells for $3.50 and airport bottle. Most bottled and canned beer settles in the $3 range; a cheap deal are Miller High Lifes and Ranier tall-boys for $1.50.

Food is tavern-good, and the Dive does a lot with its limited space behind the bar. With a cramped kitchen comprised of a microwave, small convection air oven and a George Foreman-clone grill, Billy Ray's manages to turn out substantial deli sandwiches ($4.50), homemade soups ($3.50) and killer plates of nachos ($8.00).

Find this spot. You'll be glad you did.

Billy Ray's is open Monday through Saturday 11 am to 2:30 am; Sundays 2 pm - 2:30 am. Happy Hour runs daily, 4-7 pm.

The opinions expressed within are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of pdxguide.com or The Columbian Publishing Co.