Old Times

This place and I have quite a history. Around twenty years ago I lived in the Ann Arbor, Ypsilanti area and spent most of my days here. A2 is great but it's full of college students and I preferred the company in this place in downtown Ypsi. The whole place save the bar stools and restrooms was just like they'd been in 1910 or so. Old, gorgeous wood, tin ceiling, a hand carved bar with hunting scenes along the edge and those solid old wooden booths along the walls bellow tiny windows. Nice and dark.

The clientele was a dozen or two old geezers, some of whom had been drinking there for twenty, thirty years. They had a little club, "The Losers Club", and it only took me four months to be welcomed as the only member bellow sixty. Great guys who had all, for one reason or another, given up on life and retreated into the bottle. They were right up my alley.

I'd take the bus in and drink fifty cent drafts of Blatz and, when the ancient bartender was in a good frame of mind to turn off the country western radio station, play Patsy and Hank and Roy Orbison on the jukebox. I must of heard, "boy, you sure do love music", hundreds of times. Literally. If I was really in my cups I'd bring my guitar and play country tunes for the group. I dearly loved the place.

I just moved back to Ypsi and the place has been gentrified. Kinda' broke my heart. I wouldn't go in anyway as I haven't had a drink in years and they don't serve food.

Old times, good times. Though now I try to take life on it's own terms instead of hiding in a glass of Blatz.

Done