the Monday Musings column from that consultant bloke

The decline of the public house has been dramatic over the last thirty years or so, but reflects a similarly dramatic change in the way that we live our lives.

Growing up, mainly in the country, we were often nowhere near a ‘pub but, on the odd occasion that we were, they had a strong influence as part of a community. They had a presence, even for someone like me who was too young to cross the threshold.

I was still under age when I first went into one. With two classmates from school we walked into a village ‘pub one lunchtime to try our luck. It was an alien environment despite all three of us having watched Coronation Street for years, where the Rover’s Return had been part of our living rooms for years. As we approached the bar a familiar voice came from behind us; “Allow me boys, as long as you’re buying.” It was one of our Maths teachers. He suggested talk-pints of Double Diamond for us while he had another pint of his usual, “I think one last pint and I’ll have forgotten today by the time we meet again on Monday.” A good man Mr Dodson.

After I had left school I worked in two ‘pubs as a barman. I learned a lot about people, life and myself over around four or five years in those Upminster and Romford establishments. I also drank in many, many more ‘pubs. Every day of the week I would be in one either working or drinking. Naturally, I had favourites, and the ones where I was known and welcome were a haven. There were ones where I could get a drink and be quiet with my thoughts and others where I would be drawn into games of darts or cribbage, or just into conversation.

Then there were to ‘pubs where I could take a lady, and, at that stage of my life, for reasons I need not dwell on here, they were place where we could be discrete. Public Houses abounded back then and most would make you welcome, but not all. There were always the ones where conversation would stop as you walked in and others where there was naked hostility towards a stranger. No matter, for there would be another one along the road.

Once I was married my ‘pub visits declined sharply. There were other priorities and, once our daughter arrived, far less disposable income. A ‘pub visit through most of the Eighties and Nineties was usually work related rather than purely social, but there came a time when I began to think of a day when I could take my son down to the ‘pub for a couple of pints. For all sorts of reasons that has not happened.

Both of my local ‘pubs have closed and it is about eight years since I last set foot in one, other than a gastropub. I don’t feel safe for one thing, and it is unlikely that I am going to be anywhere near one on foot: When I am driving these days I avoid alcohol completely, I won’t even take a sip of the Berkshire Belle’s wine when we go for a meal.

These days there is a range of booze available at supermarkets that, in some cases, are open around the clock. Whilst my alcohol consumption is very small these days, I am quite happy to have a small stock of locally brewed beer, a large stock of wine and a variety of spirits all to hand to enjoy in the comfort of my own home. For me. like so many others, the ‘pub has lost its attraction.

If society was like it was back in the Seventies I would be more than happy to adopt a local boozer (I use that term with affection, not in a derogatory sense), but the world we live in now has changed , for me, not for the better. The ‘pub, like to many things that were part of the fabric of the world that I grew up in, has gone. It makes me sad, but that’s life.