This post was inspired by jlsathre's story today entitled: ICE IN MY WINE.
My parents were not so proper Bostonians. Although dad went to Harvard and he and mom had tickets for the Boston Symphony on Thursday nights, they were uncomfortable with the uppity folks and fancy restaurants. Frankly, I think the cost of white tablecloths was a bit much from my frugal father.We moved to the suburbs.
My parents enjoyed tavern and pub dining. They knew their bartenders by name, and the bartenders, in turn, knew what they liked to drink. Mom had scotch on the rocks, Dad drank Crown Royal. It was a limited libation, but they were always happy when they had a wee taste with dinner.
When I was in college, at the University of Massachusetts, I spent many of my happy hours at frat house bars and rathskellers. Didn't do much for my grade average or my weight. After that it was coffee houses and that shtik. I gained 20 lbs in my freshman year. It was not all about the drink..it was about freedom, french fries, burgers and beer.
After vomiting on mother's sabbath table, end of freshman year, I gave up drinking for a long time. But still preferred pubs to chain restaurants and bistros. I only drink beer on occassion now..hot summer days preferred. Wine with dinner is still a staple.
Fortunately for me, both of my husbands enjoyed the local dining thing and we visited pubs wherever we traveled. My favorite were in Ireland, although I must say that New England has it's share. In order to become a regular you have to show up pretty often, which is not good unless you know when to leave and how to get home. They can become too chummy.
Three of my favorite pubs in the world are pictured below:
http://www.tanhillinn.co.uk/
The first is the Tan Hill pub..in Yorkshire UK.:
The day we arrived the wind was howling and the rocks were near the color of the sky. Someone was yelling: Heathcliffe!
Rain pelted us and we had to park in the rear of the building in order to open the car door. Two huge dogs (no kidding) were sleeping in front of a massive fire place. It was heaven.
I was thinking of asking you all to go there with me for a writers workshop...problem is that is haunted, as well as nearly impossible to find. But we could arrange it. I am sure. It would be an experience you would never forget.
att: reviews.filmintuition.com/2009/02/tv-on-dvd-cheers-finaseason4-dvd-set.html
This of course is the Bull and Finch Pub....aka CHEERS. A Boston Pub setting which was on TV forever. Might still be there in re-run. A place where everyone knows your name. Today it remains as a tourist destination, but the sit-com was delightful. And so I have to give it a thumbs up.
Dan Foley's pub in County Kerry. We stayed in the B & B for the purpose of hiking in the heather. Do not laugh. It is very difficult to come down a hill with a heather blanket hiding nasty holes and rocks. Best part of that trip was stepping out of the pub into a herd of cattle being driven down the main street. Yes, I was sober. The reason Dan Foley's pub is famous is prior to IT, all pubs in Ireland were white (so I am told).
Dan Foley's Pub,County kerry, Ireland | Flickr - Photo Sharing!
On a more serious note, when the dark days descended on my life back in the 1980s I found that going out to breakfast in local coffee shops gave me a jump start on the day. The comraderie at the counter, not unlike tavern friends...someone to talk to..a destination.It took a while to get past "mornin" to "think it'll rain?" ...but even though months pass between visits, I am still greeted as though I had just been there. The waitress asks if I still want my coffee with cream, my eggs scrambled well, and my wheat toast with butter on the side.
Yup...that's what I like. A place where everybody knows your name.
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Marianne Spellman
Angie Miller
Marty'sHusband
James M. Emmerling
wendyo
Ellen Hawley Roddick
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Comments
Do you mean to say your father drank Crown Royal Canadian whisky? Royal Crown is a cola. Just noticed it as I love Crown Royal.
You don't miss what you got 'til it's gone
These shots, your notes - lovely. A pause in my day like a visit to a pub.
In 1971, I left a small, rural town in Oklahoma to move west, to California. At the time, my father owned a corner grocery store that was a virtual hub of real people doing real people things; communicating, smiling, sharing and everyone knew everyone by their first names except of course, the children and teens were still expected to maintain the typical southern social grace of referring to adults as Mr. and Mrs., a social grace that was rarely left unchecked in a quite severe manner if one failed to adhere to the expected, e.g. a ringing in the ears after a swift hand to the side of the head.
The store, even before it was owned by my dad, was a place where the community members could obtain food on finance-free credit simply by asking and when they could pay, they would; no questions asked, no suspicious glances, no worries. There was even a huge, free-standing, cast iron, grated stove that was used to heat the little store, at which people would stand and warm themselves, often entering the store for that sole purpose during the brutal, windy, icy winters of Oklahoma.
Almost immediately upon moving to California, I began to miss that and still do; immensely. There is a magic in people, one they often don’t even realize they have, a magic of simply sharing a small world that almost transcends life itself.
I relay that story to my wife and daughter who are both extremely urbanized and they look at me like I’m some hillbilly from Mars; I suppose it’s an experience, not a story, but that experience as you so well expressed is one that is virtually unforgettable.
Few are true hermits. OS is an on line tavern.
Many pubs to visit..many more roads to travel.
I'd be glad to put you up, & then I'd take you to The Greengate, stage of many a barney, then down to the 19th hole at Killara Golf Club, & onto a ferry to The Rocks. If we're lucky we'd wake up somewhere close to The Steyne, & start again !
A great post, Ande, in the spirit o' the thing, & the likes of it will never be there again, begorrah !
Now about the Irish and their writing prowess.. like none other.
I hope that you have read the authors from the Great Blasket Island. My favorites. There are none better: A quote follows:
"An old woman sat up in bed in Dingle Hospital. Her hair was carefully combed. As she sat in state, her sightless eyes vaguely alternating with her ears in sifting the occasions of the ward, a flock of schoolboys crowded to the stairhead and spilled quietly into the room.
As four boys walked forward, nuns and nurses watched carefully. One of the boys spoke in Irish.
'Peig Sayers', he said, 'we offer you this small gift as a mark of our esteem' …chun méid ár measa a chur in iúl duit…
He thrust his gift into the blind woman's hands. The tears came down the old features. Peig Sayers of the Blasket Island, one of the great narrators of the wonder-tales of Gaelic Ireland, and a superb natural actress was on her deathbed.
In gratitude she stretched out her hands to read and caress the boy's face."
http://www.writewords.org.uk/archive/1380.asp
I love them all. Please read if you have not. Start with Paig and go to the Island Man. Easy to find on Google. I have the entire collection. Just owning the books is a wonder. Imagine living on a barren island in the North Atlantic ....
I was able to cross and visit this place. It is incredible.
I drank Guinness on draft in a imperial pint.
Miss them terribly.
Thanks for the memories Ande. Love the thoughts of going to Ireland one day. Like this post dear....
@ Mission...Guinness intrigues. It looks like root beer...but not. I think I might like it better cold?
@ Lea...There are none better. It's the blarney, but I love it. Gawd it feels so good to laugh.
Take care of yourself.
tight and sounded like a lecture. Gawd...my grand kids are asleep!
Thanks for bringing me around. See? I'm still here. Kick me off the bar stool and send me home. :)
This is just terrif!
r.
I lived in England (courtesy of Uncle Sam and the USAF) for two years and got to spend time in many terrific English pubs.
Always wanted to open a pub of my own. My dream included a huge shield on the outside like the English pubs…a shield with a dragon on one side and a donkey on the other separated by a diagonal stripe. The place would be called, The Dragon Ass Pub!
@Jon...shame, shame. Hope you didn't get into a brawl :) At least tell me you had some fun before the hangover.
@Frank....love it. You build it and they will come.
I get lost and miss the old days on Beacon St. and Comm Ave. I went to UMass at Amherst...so I don't think we are speaking of the same Rat. Maybe? Anyway I was 19 back then. By the time I got to BU...I had a Mrs in front of my name. Fun to talk to someone who knows the neighborhood. Thanks for your comment.
Look it up. Great city.
Scanner..Pubs are portals of life. We must not fear the fun. We must be wary of too much fun. Hmmm??? I am sure you know what I mean. All that shines at 9 PM can be a mess in the morning.