If you’ve been following along, the past few weeks I’ve been discussing the “old guys in the bar”. It’s been a series of entertaining stories I’ve compiled over the years from listening to and observing these wise, aging gentlemen.  Elderly gents, quietly sipping their remaining days away and occasionally flooring us with bits of wisdom and experience. I’d now like to write a brief summation to this piece.My intent was to wrap this up last week, but it was really late at night, I was very tired, and well past my deadline. Truth be told, being my night off, I had also had an adult beverage or two while sitting at my desk. Hence, my already less than stellar typing skills were rapidly waning. So this will finally complete Syd’s League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.  On a side note, it was brought to my attention via e-mail from a loyal reader that I made an error last week. It seems I transposed the names of the two old guys in the balcony seats on the Muppet show with the guys from the movie “Trading Places”.  Thanks for the catch, and I apologize for the mistake.

Each of these men and their stories have impacted me in one way or another, and etched their way indelibly into my memory.  Call them bar room Buddahs, if you will. Normally silent, yet gracing us with their wit and knowledge as they saw fit. I think of them as the Yodas of the bar scene. And though I’ve observed and listened to them for so many years, I am still nowhere near becoming a Jedi. To answer your subliminal question, no. Despite the Star Wars reference, I am anything BUT a sci-fi geek. Perhaps I should have gone with the Kung-Fu analogy which would essentially make me, Grasshopper. Aaaaah. In any event, I learned a lot from these old farts and I’m thankful for every bit of that knowledge. I hope to live long enough, and learn enough, to one day be one of them.

As I’ve stated, these stories were collected over many years. So unfortunately some, if not all of the aforementioned fellows have passed on. They’ve migrated to the next stop on their eternal barhopping tour. The Netherworld Saloon? Perhaps. Purgatory Pub? I hope not. Christ’s Cantina? Maybe. I’m thinking the Pearly Gates Bar and Grill. Just imagine all of these guys, and many others like them seated around the same bar every day. Just boozing and swapping stories. If, in the unlikely event any bartenders ever made their way into Heaven, this would be the ultimate retirement gig. We as a breed have a penchant for sin in all its’ ugly forms. At least until we outgrow it. But if one of us managed to sneak through the screening process of the Pearly Gates, that is one lucky barkeep. Just slinging suds and listening to genius throughout the afterlife. To paraphrase an old Pink Floyd album title, this truly would be “The Great Gig In The Sky”. Personally, I’d much rather be tugging those tap handles for all eternity then hanging out with 72 virgins. After a dozen or so, the novelty would wear off and I’d be looking for a seasoned veteran. But that’s another story all together.

Back to the point at hand, I genuinely miss these guys and I am so thankful to have been an anonymous observer on the path of their lives. I may have served them drinks every day for years, but I got so much more from them than they ever did from me. For this, I am truly and eternally thankful. Now gentlemen, go find your designated stools in the Afterlife Café where it is always happy hour, the barmaid has huge boobs and a lot of patience, and enjoy yourselves. You’ve earned it. I’m sure my Mom will make certain you are well fed. See you guys down the road. Not too soon though. I have some things to take care of here first.

Until next week,
Syd Nichols