no. 304

I’m the old guy now.

I’ve been coming to my neighborhood spot, The Montrose Saloon, for almost 15 years. When I started frequenting the `trose, it was your standard northside neighborhood bar, keeping the doors open with shots of whiskey, pitchers of Old Style, and import Hefeweizen.

My friends from college in the city would meet there every Thursday for years, taking turns buying rounds and plugging dollar bills into a jukebox comprised of mix CDs. We created a lot of memories on those Thursday nights, but I doubt any of us can recall them anymore.

More than a decade later, Montrose is still your standard northside bar. Gone are the imports and the macros, though. In their stead? A tasteful selection of craft that'll satisfy just about any palate.

Last Saturday, as the Montrose prepared to shut its doors for—hopefully only—a couple months to conduct extensive structural repairs, regulars such as myself came to bid adieu to the old bar we know and love. Included was a whole new generation of regulars in their early twenties, gung ho on trying to clear the taps out, while trading rounds of whiskey shots.

The more the jukebox and drinks change, the more things stay the same.