A decapitated doll’s head says much about the demise of Pints&union, so I’ll keep it brief.
My best old ex-friend Joe, who apparently has made good on his longtime aim of moving to Michigan, described the cessation of Pints&union as an “evolution,” and the dictionary shuddered in response.
Lawrence Weeks, Murray’s Creole Pub will “evolve” Pints&union this fall in Deer Park (Food & Dining Magazine)
It is mere speculation until concrete details are released; however, given the importance of alcoholic beverage licensing, Phillips might be staying on as a partner (limited or otherwise) in the new venture. This would not be unusual under the circumstances, ensuring continuity as the concept radically changes, and allowing for a gradual transfer of ownership over time.
It’s nonsense, of course; Pints&union has closed, and Murray’s Creole Pub might open, with or without the previous regime’s help. Business ventures deal in facts, not cosplay, which deals in pretending. The glorious future for Pints&union in Deer Park lasted eight months, and now a new contestant boards the merry-go-round.
My guess remains that Joe is at least part-owner of the forthcoming successor restaurant; the next time an operator gifts a turnkey establishment (even one conceived by close friends) without a contract for repayment, it will be the first time in recorded history.
Or, as it should be. Any functional rentier wants to see a check in the mail at the beginning of the month, and maybe some of that will eventually trickle down to me as repayment of that outstanding debt (kindly insert laughing emoji).
In truth, apart from the irrevocable nature of our split, I believe that decamping to the Great North is the single best thing Joe could do. Michigan’s state motto is Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam circumspice: “If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you.”
Last fall I selected a playlist (soundtrack?) for the pub’s inglorious flight from New Albany: The Songs for a (P&u) Departure. In addition, you can click here for all posts at this website tagged as Pints&union.
For me, Pints&union began with considerable promise. I thought I’d found a home. There were successes and failures, as with all businesses. But they left me, not the other way around, and it all ended with sadness, ageism and villainy.
As the ancient idiom reminds us, never more truthfully than the present, “a fish rots from the head down.”
There comes a time when pleas, petitions and (dare I say it) prayers mean far less than a conclusion Occam undoubtedly would suggest: Just get out, and don’t come back no more. Simple and eloquent, and the sooner, the better.
Cover photo: Dilapidation in East Berlin, 1989.
