Last Call

"The Red Lion is closing."

I couldn't believe the words that had just left my friend's mouth--she might as well have told me that the sun was now rising in the north and setting in the south--but I had no reason to doubt those words, either. She belongs to a group of writers who did monthly readings at the Red Lion Pub, and she was telling me that they had to move to another nearby establishment because the Red Lion was shutting down.

The Red lion had, for the overwhelming majority of its years in business, been the best English-style pub in the city, serving a lovely pint of cider and a tasty plate of bangers and mash. It was a great place to go with friends after seeing a movie at either the Biograph or the 3 Penny, two of the oldest surviving cinemas in Chicago. It was also the last venue in which I read my poetry, before the aforementioned writers' group in the upstairs room that was reputed to be haunted (and I firmly believe it was).

The 3 Penny closed a couple of years ago, though, and the Biograph was recently converted into a live theater space. Add the fact that most of my past drinking partners have either left town or ceased drinking socially, and it's not surprising that I hadn't made it to the Red Lion in a while. Still, you'd think that I'd have heard about this before now; after a bit of poking around on the Interwebs, I found that the closing had been public knowledge for about a year.

Like I said, I didn't doubt my friend at all--but I had to see for myself. I wanted her to be somehow mistaken.

She wasn't.

The building still stands on Lincoln Avenue, a relic well over 100 years old. That, as I understand it, is part of the problem--the bulding's tax situation makes it unprofitable to maintain only as a bar, so the original structure is to be razed and a new building with the Red Lion on the ground floor and apartments above. For now, though, the red lettering remains on the facade, but the lighted sign that dangled over the entrance is gone, the bar is dark, and a chalkboard sign explains that the bar will reopen in "the fall of 2008."

That would be heartening news...except that I'm writing these words in August of 2008, which means fall is just a few weeks away. And if the old building hasn't even been torn down yet, they can't reopen in the fall. Also, there's another chalkboard sign announcing that the restaurant equipment is for sale--you don't usually sell off your equipment if you plan to reopen.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you buy all-new equipment for your rebuilt pub. Maybe you don't reopen in the fall (since that doesn't seem possible), but maybe sometime in the front half of next year. I can hope.

I had a lot of great times in the Red Lion, like when an ex-girlfriend and I were having an early dinner there and a couple came in and sat right near the door--the woman was someone I used to be head-over-ass for, the man her on-again/off-again who'd been friends with my ex. Neither of us wanted to talk to either of them, and the owner kindly let us escape through the back door. Or the time I caught a friend who'd had one too many before he fell into the Red Lion's fireplace. Or the many quiet conversations I'd had about movies or writing or love (or, more frequently, the lack thereof) with many friends, most of whom are either gone from this city or gone from my life entirely.

Now the Red Lion itself is gone, and with it a little more of this city's individuality and personality. Maybe it'll be back when the new building goes up. Like I said--I can hope.