With heavy hearts, we heave, uh, bestow the latest Lou-Roc Award to the owners of Clyde's Bistro in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. In some ways, this was just too easy. Some newbie gets his hands on two fully restored diners -- at great cost, mind you -- and just tears into them with all the sensitivity of Jack the Ripper performing an appendectomy.

On the other hand, the proprietors, listed on the Clyde's website as Vivian, Lillian, Bryan, and Clyde, make the case that they took over a project that failed on a massive scale, three times. In their defense, they have posed that oft-heard rhetorical question: "Would you rather see them torn down?" Good question. Would I rather people remember me as I looked when I was vital and healthy, or after I was ravaged by a flesh eating disease?

Above, you see the end result of the Clyde Clan after wielding their sledgehammer, but just before it was fully furnished. To us, this looks like a perfect place to wake Liberace. Below, you see what was then known as the Sweet City Diner, a Mountain View hauled in from Atlantic City and restored by Steve Harwin, pictured with his back to the camera, standing with Steve Presser. Here we only see the Mountain View just before it opened in 2002. The O'Mahony of this pair fared only slightly better.

In our own defense to those who say the Lou-Roc unfairly picks on people who have every right to do what they want to their own property, I agree with you. In this country, if you own it, you should be able to paint it purple and rivet used CDs to it if you are so inclined. Right?

The "new" Hollywood Diner is a big dope-slap at all of us who have worked so hard to spread the good word about the special place the diner has in our culture. (Photo by Ida Doolan)

Some people will look at these two photos and wonder why we picked the Hollywood Diner in Dover, Delaware and its owner for such ignobility. After all, the end result of this renovation produced a nice shiny diner, right?

No. The end result of this travesty produced a cheap, ridiculous cartoon of what a true diner should be. Bearing in mind that hardly anyone exists today that can fashion stainless steel panels in the fashion that Fodero once did, and you start to understand the grievious affront to our heritage that this diner now represents.

Yes, I know that highly polished stainless steel doesn't come cheap, but all that money might have gone to better use hiring an actual chef to turn out meals to truly remember. That's what packs in the customers. Instead, what I'm sure you will now find here is yet another pretense to diner traditions in meals served up more or less by Sysco or its ilk after a quick nuking or bag boiling. I would be very surprised to find anything better once this joke reopens. The fact that the owner would even consider doing something like this to such a gem indicates how little regard he has for his customers or his community.

The Hollywood Diner before: Note the curves and the subtle yet striking lines of the classic Fodero diner. No one living today can recreate this.

There was nothing wrong with the original Hollywood Diner. In fact, it was one of the best examples of a late-1950s Fodero diner still standing. Inside, about the only thing its former owner Bud Jarboe ever changed was the vinyl on the booths. Its degree of originality after more than fifty years in service stood as testament to Mr. Jarboe's good sense and Fodero's quality of workmanship.

The new owners could have simply had some better landscaping, a new sign, a good cleaning, and had replaced the Flexglass and could have easily had himself a near-showroom quality diner. These renovations were simply a waste of time, money, and regard for the greatness that is the great American diner.

Say good-bye to the Hollywood. Say good-bye, my baby.

See more interior photos at the Diner Finder and here.

In 2006, the Mayfair Diner landed in the hands of Michael Petrogiannis after eighty years of ownership by the Mulholland family. As a result, the long-running relationship with its surrounding community that the family built on a tradition of quality and integrity suddenly came to a close. A visit there about a year later found the once-lively diner smelling of death and ineptitude. This new roof literally caps off the sad demise of a once-great institution.

We can only wonder now what travesty Petrogiannis will foist upon his other Philadelphia purchases, the Country Club, Melrose, and Tiffany diners. (Top photo by Glenn Wells.)

Steve Harwin called us last night to pass along some good and bad news.

Good news: Someone's purchased the ill-fated double diner complex in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. Bad news: They want to turn the Mountain View into an upscale tavern, wiping out all of its recently restored original features.

Though the new owners have kept Harwin in the loop with their plans, the man who restored the former Terminal Diner back in 2001 has made no headway trying to convince them of the folly of their ways. Harwin also tells Roadside that for now, the former Zephyr Diner, the O'Mahony diner, will stay much the same.

Originally conceived by Cleveland Heights entrepreneur Steve Presser, the over-budget and poorly planned project took years before it finally opened for business. Presser, who always thought big, wanted to have Dottie's Diner (the Zephy) serve as a traditional diner with an updated menu and pair it up with the Sweet City Diner which would serve only desserts.

Going wildly over budget and way past the original deadline for its grand opening, Presser's ambitious idea faltered almost from the start and bankrupted him in the end. In our estimation, the diners suffered from a hopelessly inefficient layout, a confusing presentation for customers (as configured, the restaurant had four entrances), and a site plan that needlessly broke up the traditional streetscape. Set back more than 60 feet, northbound travelers easily passed it by.

It's no secret that we don't like double diner restaurants -- at least where the operator pairs two intact diners. The roadside is littered with nearly a half-dozen such projects. We can't think of a single one that lasted more than two years. Read this carefully if you have plans to give this a try: Open one first. If that succeeds, then expand.

The new owners will at least do one good thing: Their boneheaded intentions have inspired us to bring back the Lou-Roc. Look for more such awards to come.