Ladean Moss' place, named after her son, is settling into that comforting groove a neighborhood place hits when it's been open for 17 years. The regulars are well-established, but the newcomer never feels shunned. The pool tables and dartboards get heavy use, but the bar's still the focus. Tables and TVs make for plenty of sports watching, but the real human drama is at the karaoke machine, where Northlanders shed their inhibitions and croon for all they're worth. One recent evening, we knew we'd found a new home when the singing sensation was dressed from head to toe like a Southern California surfer (he even had puka shells!) but belted out the sweetest country hits we'd heard in a long time. What's not to like about a place frequented by a surfing cowboy?