Then! Now! Always!

 

Clancy’s Pub

 

Somewhere in a megalopolis-city, a town. a berg, neighborhood, maybe, even, only in your imagination, at the corner of North Main Street and East Elm resides historic Clancy’s Bar & Grille, a gathering place, an oasis watering hole, where friends meet for fun and conversation.

Originally, Danny-boy O’Donnell had established the tavern as a stage coach stop for the Overland Co. as agent for the fledgling public conveyance line. Over the years and through several generations which witnessed a great Civil War, two conflicts of epic world conflagrations and enough regional skirmishes to satiate any “war-blood savage”, chief among the atrocities, that particular damnation in southeast Asia taking the cream of our contemporaries long before their appointed time only to be reluctantly posthumously lamented by creation of a black marble wall etched in the precious blood of the “victims” of that “politically bastardized” brutality by a faux “leader” deserving of the title of the root word of that adjective. C’est la vie! To that!

Heroes desire no parades or politico-type speeches; real men and women are well above such lies, able to face the reality of life as the dealer calls. Weakness is the cancer; simply---Kill it!

In his time of occupied space in the creation-eons of eternal time, one has come to determine a quiet destiny through Truth! Justice! And, The American Way! To fashion trinity of held belief.

Further, it is learned that values must be challenged, tested, blatantly scrutinized for accuracy; such beliefs necessarily demand hot-forge “tempering”, lest such can never rise to sacred virtue.

Our “worthy” subject’s dogmatic revelations might condense to simple couplets: To wit:

 

All we truly have to offer is Good toward one another

The very best we can bestow is Love! upon each other

 

Live! Love! Laugh! Focus contemplate!

Vigilant be! Not one future be ever late!

 

Faith! Family! Freedom! Might just be all there really---Is!

In one eternal instant the only mercy-blessing will be…His!

 

And, is it really quite so simple as such impossible consideration? Perhaps? Maybe? Yes!

Myriad debate has incepted, germinated, blossomed, been examined and concluded at Clancy’s through the ages, been and now and come. Verbal resolutions---True! Wisdom!? Hmm!

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!” Richard III concluding Shakespeare’s offering.

“A man? A man! Where be found a---man? Modern human’s unanswered plaintive-lament.

Well! Now! Step into ole Clancy’s Pub where the “hip” intelligencia-of-the-night-darkness rendezvous each eve as the purple shadows of dusk give way to the evil demon-night festivities.

Dare! Ye civilized, faux erudite, Royal-elite, celebrity, self-acclaimed, Enter! And, inquire: Where? Might a “Man” be found among thee? Then, hear! Each rebel, rascal, rogue therein too quick answer the barbed challenge; to wit: Here! Brother! Stands a “man”! (Just ask me wife!)

Does that response then quench the queried thirst? Satiate the acute hunger pains? Satisfy?

But, the petitioner has vacated ole Clancy’s refreshment concession; he has better contemplations than to digest vacant verbiage expected; matters of import---perhaps…Truth!

His ever-mindful mantra: What other people think of me is none of my business!

Allow please! Upon me golden gonfalon a red-banner white-letter emblazoned:

Faith! Family! Freedom! Amen!