Beers For All Occasions

An Experiment in Social Drinking

The Inkwell

I believe people generally have good ideas, but we tend to talk more than act. Even the beerologists talked over brews for months about this blog idea before we ever wrote a word (then we stopped writing and talked for a few more months about how we should start again.) Now, we talk about teaching teenagers about poetry or visiting a bar in Nottingham- but it’s all talk. There is a special sort of person, though, who acts on good ideas instead of talking about them.

This brings me to our original home bar. Before the Mag, before the Hideaway, we were Rudyard Kipling girls. And so we shall always be. Any visitor to the Rud can see that the building is bigger than what’s used. There’s a back room and a second floor, and even a third floor room. For years, those of us who call the Motherlodge home have talked about how to best make use of the extra space, but no one really knew where to start.

Then came a staff shift. Fear not- Aerin is still around, but these days, she’s got a lot more on her plate than keeping us all drunk.  A new hero has ridden into town in the form of Danny Moran. Danny’s the fellow behind the bar who serves you drinks and makes sure to learn your name. You may find him flipping about trays with drinks on them never spilling a drop or traipsing around the back yard on stilts. If you don’t see him, chances are he’s hidden somewhere working on a new project. He’s already completed his first.

As the Rud has always been a place where literary sorts like to be, Danny has installed for us a bookstore, and we shall call it The Inkwell. Why a bookstore? Because Danny had some books, of course. Why The Inkwell? In cleaning out the back room, he stumbled across a secret cistern. When I say the back has been cleaned out, let me clarify that having worked at the Rud a time or two myself, I always made trips into the back as quick as they could be. There was something spooky about it. It was just a storage area, but so much was stored that I never knew about the cistern or the stairs leading to an office upstairs. Now, it’s sort of magical- maybe my favorite nook in this place I love so much.

This is, of course, not a Borders or Barnes and Noble- instead, it reminds me of a place that used to exist on the square of my hometown where I would search for books someone else had written in because I am fascinated by things that have already lived a life or two. Like the books in that place, these have the smell of the hidden corners of a library where a person can hide for hours. The Inkwell has in it volumes of poetry I plan to buy even though I already own them simply because these copies have more character. I’ve even heard talk of some first editions, if you’re in to that sort of thing. The cistern is flanked by church pews and a chess board waits for someone to pay it attention.

Being a person who loves a good book as much as I love a good beer, I am ecstatic that Danny saw a sort of potential the rest of us hadn’t and went so far as to act on it. It’s just what the place needed. In honor of The Inkwell’s opening- and existence, for that matter- these beers are for Danny.


April 13, 2010 Posted by | Old Louisville | , | Leave a comment