ITEOTWAWKI Part 42

I opened the local newspaper today and read an obituary. Not an obituary for a person, or even a famous animal. An obituary for a pub. A pub that has an enormous significance in my life. Not that I should have been entirely surprised as I can think of at least five other pubs within 10 miles of here that have closed or are up for sale with the words “development opportunity” attached to them.

Many reasons have been advanced for this decline of the English Public House. Drink-driving legislation, cheap supermarket booze, high alcohol duty, onerous food safety legislation, and latterly, the credit crunch.

The pub in question, before BritInCalifornia has a heart attack, is The Morning Star in Datchet. It is the pub where my father was born back in 1930, when his Mother was the licensee. OK, I may not have done my part in keeping it running profitably, as I have only once had a drink in there, and that was 12 years ago. At that time it looked like it had hardly changed. The floors were wonky and tiled, there was a skittles alley and the bar was constructed from rough brick. Only sawdust was missing from the floor.

Today, a little bit more of me died.