A Salute to Years on this New Year's

Tonight, New Years Eve 2008, I will bartend at Whiskey Blue in the W hotel on W Adams St. That bar is closing its doors after at least (I'm unsure of the exact open date) seven years of thrills, booze-filled laughter, chaos, quiet moments, and then clanging of registers. For over five of those years, I worked as a bartender there (full time during periods), and rather enjoyed each of the aforementioned realities contained within its (once dark brown, now turned blue) walls. 

And on this last day of the year, it makes me think of the significance of change; of eras left behind, sounds and sights fading into air to be transformed to dusty memories. Some months ago, I left Whiskey Blue as a regular employee in pursuit of careers closer to my heart (teaching and writing). Since then, I have occasionally filled in for the occasional help with holes in schedules, not to mention lifting of spirits to my pocketbook; but make no mistake: the change brought about by such a move, was initially not easy. 

When I say the change was not easy, I don't mean just financially; for if you have heard that bartending can be a lucrative career, you have heard right, but emotionally as well. Yes it's true: change, while inevitable, is difficult. And the patrons, who after years of frequenting Whiskey Blue, searching for friendly, attractive bartenders clad in scant yet classy fare wear, no doubt feel this difficulty in facing these days gone, in the pressing need to find a new, pardon my casual term, 'watering hole' to lift their spirits (particularly in such an ugly economy as this). 

But press on we must. Change need not be sad and sad only. Change, in fact, is quite beautiful. As far as I say, it's the eye of art. It's only through change that we can measure ourselves, that we can choose to trust others. And so, as we bring in the New Year, I choose to feel sad for saying farewell to a friendly period of my life--my years at Whiskey Blue--but beyond that, I opt to feel happy. Happy that it was a part of me; that it will always be a part of me. My years as an intense, and also gracious (mostly, don't get me wrong: working in Service can really ride on your soul) bartender, shaped who I am today. Such variety in conversations, such seeing through gazing at countless pairs of eyes, such listening to tales originating from all walks of the world; all ages, all experiences, all temperatures on the thermometer of love for life. An exquisite encounter, no doubt: the life of a bartender in a reputable, respectable lounge nestled in a reputable, respectable boutique hotel.

But alas, change sets in and we move on. People move on. Bars become different titles. Eras become other eras. There's no day that we feel this reality more intensely, perhaps, than on the last day of the year: the eve of the new year--New Year's Eve. To this year, and to those that preceded it at Whiskey Blue, on my behalf, and on behalf of the evolving staff, and ever-changing patrons, I say farewell; with warm feelings in my heart, and maybe, at the stroke of midnight, a tear in my eye...