Love it! Last week was a rough time here in Boulder; we were told that our beloved and sole remaining local Irish lair, Conor O'Neill's, was closing, after 17 years, (and it'd been The James for 20 before that — and a bar for over 100 years!)... Last Wednesday through Saturday were half-celebration and half-protest; the whole town came by to down shots of Tullamore Dew and pints of Guinness, Smithwick's, Harp, Murphy's, etc. and we all ranted and bemoaned the insidious process by which we have lost so many great pubs and cafes over the years: JJ McCabe's, Tom's Tavern, Juanita's, Boulder Cafe and more... the heartless, money-grubbing weasels backed by stacks of Other Peoples' Money come sneaking in and develop condos and boutiques next door, drive everybody away with construction mess and noise that goes on forever, then, suddenly, rent and property taxes have doubled or more, and there's a showdown, and guess who loses? and, well, that's how it all looked, bloody grim indeed, and last Sunday, the final night, was a bittersweet bash with non-stop Celtic jamming, and many tears were shed at the bar, and sobs were overheard in the courtyard, and there was so much sadness and grief that it was almost too much to bear, and we all drank and prayed for strength, and left feeling like something irreplaceable and important had died... Then, yesterday, miraculously, it was announced that a more reasonable deal had somehow been struck between owner and landlord, and TONIGHT Conor's is re-opening, and you can bet music like THIS shall once again and continue to ring out to the clink of pint-glasses and the stomp of foot-jigs on the old oak floor. Aye, and it all brings to mind how apropos the sign on the mirror behind the main bar (brought over from Ireland like everything else in the place) is: "Drink is the curse of the land... It makes you curse and shoot at your landlord... and it makes you miss him..." See you there, for Celtic Spirit lives!