Jimmy The Saint's World Of Rant

Thursday, April 14, 2005:

THOSE WERE THE DAYS MY FRIEND, WE THOUGHT THEY'D NEVER END

(Author's note; for maximum effect, listen to theme from Cheers while reading the following passages)

The Jolly Miller is a small pub on Conduit Street, just behind Leicester train station. It's a modest place that seats about 100 people and there is very little about it, inside or out, that makes it stand out to the casual observer. It just happens to be the place where I have some of the fondest memories of my life.

For about three years, the Miller was my local, even when I didn't live anywhere near it. It was a place where my friends and I would go to drink cheap Guiness, play pool, put songs on the jukebox and have deep, meaningful conversations about utter nonsense. It was why pubs exist; a warm, friendly place full of familiar faces and smells and sounds. It was an old friend, a well-kept secret that endeared it to its customers but also one which opened newcomers with open arms.

The number of special nights I had there are beyond count, suffice to say that in three years I don't have a single bad memory of the place and the nights where we used to cram round a small table, pint glasses stacked in front of us, smiling and laughing like we'd just got into Heaven, came thick and fast.

On Monday night, Lee and I revisited the place on a whim. Just out of curiosity. Just to see what had changed. We were expecting the worst, but what we found left us absolutely gobsmacked.

It hadn't changed a bit.

It was all there; same interior, same bar, same local characters propping up the bar, same musicians playing fiddle-dee-diddle-dee Irish standards, same atmosphere, same warmth. It was hard to describe how I felt, sitting there with my pint and trying to take it all in. It was like we'd gone back in time, like the pub was waiting patiently for us to return so we could be reassured that good times are forever and some things never change. Needless to say, we both sat there and smiled, and it was that same smile from that time. The smile we saved for when we were there, all those years ago when all we had were good times.

I've changed so much since then, to the extent that I almost don't recognise the person I was. But I do know that I've come on in leaps and bounds, and The Jolly Miller was part of that. Thinking about how much life has shown me and how much is yet to come, how much is possible, makes me feel good. And as the memories came flooding back to me a few nights ago, I felt something special, almost like the Universe was giving my soul a hug.

The last couple of months have been a struggle and it's only now that I think this horrible black cloud in my life is starting to clear. Something about Monday night was part of that. At a time when all my recent memories make my heart ache, all my recollections of that little pub and the times we shared are untouchable and covered in gold.

The Jolly Miller reminds me that life is an incredible thing, worth celebrating every single minute even when your heart is so cracked and broken it feels like part of you has died. It reminds me that people and places change, but not always for the worse. It reminds me that what I have, who I know and how I live is a blessing. It reminds me that life is good and life goes on. There was heaven in between those four walls. Here's to next time.


(Shame the price of Guiness had gone up, though)
James // 5:15 AM

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