The Gathering, a restaurant in my
neighborhood that has been a local institution for 28 years, is closing
tomorrow and it makes me very sad. It is most aptly named, truly a
gathering.
I have made friends there, I am comfortable there. Jack, the jovial bartender, knows how I like my vodka tonic with Absolute and not much tonic, and my beer on ice.
Hi, Jack! |
I can go by myself and
not feel alone, knowing that there will always be lively conversation. This is
an "old fashion" (whatever that means) place. There is a magician on
the weekends-- a magician for heaven sakes. Who does that anymore? And they love
children and old people from the senior living center around the
corner--walkers and canes are welcomed and accommodated. There is also a guitar
player on the weekends who plays my music--music of the 60's. But he also plays
music of the 90's and everything in between, and young and middle-aged people
frequent the bar, although it clearly tips in the AARP direction. There is a fire
house across the street and when a fire engine comes out with sirens blaring,
drinks are half price for two minutes.*
We "regulars" have all been
commiserating together--where will we go? How will we find each other? Yes,
another restaurant will open in the same location and more new restaurants are
coming to my neighborhood. But they will be loud and trendy and most likely
have a revolving cast of 20-30 something bartenders.
It is not just the closing
of our local watering hole that makes us so sad. It is the end of a life that
was slower and quieter, more private and more personal-- life before smart
phones and email and Facebook. This closing is vivid reminder of all that has
gone before and is no more, a lifetime spent thinking all was possible.
I know that change is inevitable. My grandchildren are constant reminders of future possibilities. But I also know that come next weekend there will be a hole in my life and an ache in my heart.
Sorry for the void, Mom. Tio Chinos (Jack's new gig) doesn't sound like the answer, but maybe the new place will be aweseom-er. Whatever restaurant moves in there, I think you should demand half price drinks when fire engines leave!
ReplyDeleteThanks for guest blogging!
xoxo,
Beth
You bet and you better believe every customer will do so.
ReplyDeleteLove, Mom
Welcome back, Pat!
ReplyDeleteThere's nothing worse than when an old favorite place closes. Especially one that sounds so awesome.
When a fire engine comes out with sirens blaring, drinks are half price for two minutes?? Sign me up!
And by the way, you are now on the hook to blog about the *new* place you find.
Thanks for joining us!
Cheers,
Ellie
I'm so sad, especially because I've never been there! I *almost* went last Sunday. Really wish that I had. And that there had been a (small, injury/damage free) fire.
ReplyDeletexoxo
Jacquie
Our guest blogger is currently at South Beach (eating fish tacos and drinking beer, I'm assuming), so I'm not going to feel TOO sorry for her. At least not today!
ReplyDeletexo,
b
Yep...life is good!
ReplyDeleteAch, I hate to hear such news! I do hope you find your NEW favorite place, someplace with the OLD charm.
ReplyDelete