It’s heartbreaking to watch a dream die.
Imagine a young boy growing up in the heartland, watching the work-worn faces of the downtrodden bar patrons slowly lose their tension, seeing some semblance of happiness creep back into their otherwise dreary lives, and thinking “what grander calling could there be than to bring such joy to so many, night after night?”
And so while his friends spoke of becoming astronauts and firemen and spokesmodels, P77 knew in his heart of hearts that he would never be happy until it was he himself pouring those beers, helping the regulars wash away the bitterness, the loneliness, the emptiness of their meaningless existence. “Parents have it so difficult!” P77 would explain to his young pals. “When I grow up, I want to serve as a de facto babysitter for unruly hellions so that the put-upon mothers and fathers can have a few hours every night to ignore their offspring and relax!”
For several years, he lived the dream. He would stand behind the bar, beaming, as tireless youngsters ever-so-adorably bounced pool balls onto the slate, as drunken denizens told and retold stories in incoherent gibberish and slurringly demanded refills. He had it all.
Dreams do die, though, and for whatever reason, P77 lost his love for that life. I don’t know what finally did it, but last night was his final shift at the pub. I suppose that he’ll at least pretend to be passionate about what he’s going to do next, which is to concentrate on his cycle courier business and to spend as much time as possible with his son Liam. Perhaps his 2nd place showing in the “Things” category of the Boise Weekly Black & White Photography contest can provide some solace now that he won’t be pouring beer.
Click on over to his site, check out his amazing pics, and wish him well with some comment love. If you're in the Boise area, maybe you can throw some business Northstar's way.
Thanks for the beers, dude.
4 weeks ago