Local Issues

Not really being they type of blog that comments on the local pub scene, I don't usually so stuff like this.  But since I have some insight into what's happened, I thought I may as well.

Those of you who have ever been up this way will probably know the A6 well.  There's no motorway junction or any railway station between Preston and Lancaster.  The main reason for this is there is very little in the twenty miles between them.  When your main settlement is Garstang (population 8000), then you know you're not a high density area.

About three miles up from the junction between the M6 and M55 in Barton is The Boar's Head.  Originally a fairly standard Whitbread rural inn, Mitchells of Lancaster bought it after Whitbread divested itself of a lot of it's estate in the 1990s.  Last week, to some consternation, it was closed abruptly, Mitchells declaring it unviable.

I went there for about a year in 2012-13 as it was where my sister and her erstwhile boyfriend went at the time.  If nothing else, I was usually guaranteed a lift home.  If you have a look at the photo above, you'll see the extension on the left.  This is where the dining area was situated.  I rarely saw more than about 5 tables out of 30 occupied, except for the obvious Sunday lunch crowd.  The only times I ever saw it busy was on New Year's Eve 2012 and the previous November when my mother hired out the place for my Nan's wake (the empty space helped keep certain groups of the family apart, I heard).

In May 2013, the couple who ran the place quite, citing despair with Mitchell's lack of support and general idiocy.  A new couple were soon installed, and they place started to go downhill.   I went in one evening and ordered a pint that turned out to be vinegar.  The barman changed it, but didn't take the offending beer off.  He told me he'd been ordered by the new Landlady to get rid of the old stock by whatever means necessary.  I didn't go back.  My sister was barred soon after after being grassed up by the staff for slagging off the new regime behind their backs.

That was only the start, apparently.  The play area at the back (whatever you think of the kiddywinks, such things are fairly essential for a rural dining pub) was demolished, and visitors to the adjacent church were banned from parking there. Residents suspected it was a deliberate campaign to run the place down so Mitchells could sell it off, but you didn't hear that here, right?

Ironically, in 2015 Mitchells put in a new couple who knew what they were doing and there was an upturn in trade.  But so determined were they to close it, the new people were removed with 24 hours notice and despatched elsewhere in the estate.

As said, Barton is hardly a humming hive of activity.  It's local facilities are (1) a takeaway (2) a car dealership (3) an upmarket furniture shop (4) a restaurant and bar and (5) a hotel, which by definition the locals are unlikely to use.  If the Boar's Head becomes flats, as is the rumour, then it's a peculiar decision as 150 new homes are already due to be built in the area along with the new Broughton Bypass.  The local schools are already oversubscribed and the A6 is already busy enough.

Barton doesn't really need more housing, but presumably Mitchells have found a buyer willing to pay an acceptable price.  But if you want a drink, you now face a twenty minute walk in either direction to the Broughton Inn or the Roebuck in Bilsborrow.  I can only presume any slow tick of revenue from a rural pub is outstripped by a big hit of cash from a property sale (rumours are that Mitchells have large debts, which would explain their several site disposals in the last two years).

It could be the Boar's Head's offer wasn't good enough to attract paying crowds, but, sadly, Barton now joins one of the hundreds of villages in Britain who's last pub has gone.

The Dickhead

Amazingly, less objectionable than reality

We all like to think that whatever type of pub we go into, whatever the drinks it serves and whatever the type of clientele it's aiming for, that the people running the place have some idea what they are doing.  Unfortunately, you sometimes find they know very little outside their own little space.

Last night, for reasons best not gone into, I ended up at one of Preston's estate-type pubs (it's an old building, but everything else about it fits the "estate pub" stereotype).  Needless to say, the real ale offering is limited, Sharp's Doom Bar and a pump with a near-permanent "coming soon" on it's clip.  I'm not going to sneer at the lager and smooth drinkers of this pub, but it's Landlord's opinions of the beer trade are somewhat...unusual.

He'd heard from someone that I'd arrived here from the local multi-beer freehouse.  He'd've probably guessed anyway, as I was the only person that night who'd ordered the (very warm) Doom Bar.  I was informed that real ale is shit, because it goes off in three days, and CAMRA are a bunch of snobby wankers who never go to his pub (I cannot imagine why).

He continued - any pub, like the aforementioned multi-beer freehouse, that has 8 real ales on must be tipping away more than it sells, and anyone embarking on such a business model is a tosser.  I doubted that myself, but perhaps I was imagining all those casks of beer that have run out in front of me mid-pull.  Perhaps they throw away most of the beer beforehand to make it look as though the cask selling

It's very difficult to argue with someone advancing these arguments.  For him, no doubt, lager is what sells to his punters (a 'down to earth' collection from my observation), so anyone selling more than Doom Bar as a sop must be some kind of idiot.  He has no experience outside of this part of the licensed trade and cannot comprehend that anywhere else would be any different.

If his business eventually fails, I will find it difficult to have much sympathy for him.

Left to Their Own Devices

Possibly  not the pub of the future

Strangely not attracting as much comment as expected was this article in the Telegraph.  While it could be considered a brave move to rob people of their mobile communication convenience,  there will always be one bar owner who tries it, and probably enough people who hate the ubiquitous cellphone enough to go somewhere to ensure they avoid it.

For the other 99% of the population, convincing them of the value of face-to-face conversation as opposed to social media may be difficult. Go into any pub outside the "rammed" times of Friday and Saturday night, and you'll see pretty much every customer  (and staff member) fiddling about with a device of some description.  I'm writing this in my local, and it's what I see in front of me now. In fact, not being glued to a phone is probably grounds for service refusal these days, as you may be too drunk to focus on a screen.

In most situations,  trying to separate people from their oh-so-essential social media is doomed to failure.  Despite the predictable protestations to the contrary,  people actually prefer dealing with others through the Internet than the risky and messy "traditional" methods. Not only can they edit what they say before saying it, but it gives much more opportunity for grandstanding narcissism which most people are, sadly, prone to.

As someone writing this on a tablet in a pub, I'm aware of the irony. But, unlike most, I have no problems admitting I'm a miserable, misanthropic bastard who prefers to deal with others at a distance. I assume most people don't think of themselves this way, despite the vast amount of opposing evidence.

So, despite the alleged success of Mr. Tyler's Faraday-caged bar, perhaps the modern licensee with an eye to continued trading would be best advised to work with social trends rather than against them.  It may work for the odd place, but for most it'll be doomed to failure.

We've now reached the point Ian MacDonald predicted 20 years ago, a "multifocused and fragmented techno-decadence into which the First World is currently  sinking as if into a babbling, twinkling, metronomically pulsing quicksand."

MacDonald indicated what he thought of this by committing suicide in 2003. But the rest of us have to accommodate it and move on.

Wanted?

Once Cathy Price had visited, there was no reason to stay open

A common complaint of the, shall we say, more senior of the pub commerariat is that "Pub Culture" is dying. Hundreds of them close every year, and the amount of drinks sold in the on-trade has been decreasing for over two decades. Some will blame the smoking ban, some high prices and others an aging demographic.

But most likely the reason is this : Most people don't want pubs anymore.

The reasons for the current density of pubs in towns and cities areas are many, and lie mainly in the 19th Century. Then, Britain had an increasingly large urban population, brewers that could turn out large amounts of palatable beer, and a much more relaxed attitude to alcohol consumption than we see today. Then as now, running a pub wasn't exactly the path to riches, but it did provide a reasonable living.

Over the last 50 years, many things have changed. Some for the better and some for the worse. But the main thing is the growth in media and communications technology. Back in the 1940s and 1950s, most people had to rely on other people for entertainment. The pub was where you found people, and many pints were sunk every night in between tellings of tales of decreasing veracity.  And that was good, everyone got well socialised and they were used to the alcohol consumption.   But then people bought their first TV, and the pub had competition.

Of course, now we have a media world people in the 1960s would barely comprehend. Facebook, YouTube, Skype, thousands of TV channels, all the music ever recorded just a click away. Not to mention the streaming internet porn. These provide most of the stimulation most humans will ever want, and they don't even need to leave the house. Who needs the pub, or even other people?

Ever since the 1980s, society has become ever more atomised, solipsistic and even misanthropic. A partner and a couple of friends are typically what most people use for face-to-face socialisation. And what partner would put up with their other half spending most of their evenings in the pub? (Ironically this is probably behind the ever increasing divorce rate - couples spending too much time together). People now live vicariously, through a phone screen and apps.

Something has been lost somewhere, undoubtedly. But people don't mind because they cannot miss what they've never had.  It's now entirely normal to spend evenings with Netflix and a bottle of wine, and not even to know your neighbours names.  I'm fairly sure that the increasingly poor behaviour and sense of entitlement amongst the human race today is a consequence of this. If you don't deal with people in real life on a regular basis, how would you ever learn what is and isn't acceptable?

The pub as a mass institution is probably dead now. Many of the ones that remain are mainly populated by oddballs (CAMRA types and Crafty hipsters both), misfits with no significant relationships, and bored alcoholics. Regular society has turned its back on the pub, as it's needs are being met elsewhere. There are probably too many pubs for it's current level of patronage to support, and plenty more will close before equilibrium is reached.

I will be sad when that day happens. As one of the aforementioned misfits, I'll probably still be drinking in them if I have the money and my internal organs hold up. But happen it will.

Sadly, it's what most people, through their behaviour, have indicated they want.

Cats and Rats and Elephants, But Sure as You're Born

Mmm...warm Jennings Bitter for £3.50

Historians said about the constantly infirm Charles II of Spain (1661-1700) that he "was always on the verge of death, but baffled Christendom by continuing to live.

Many similar things can be said about many pubs in the North. Take, for example, The Unicorn in Preston.

This place is a former Scottish & Newcastle house, based in a formerly packed pub district on North Road, just off the A6. Several pubs in the area have closed in this area (ie. The Mitre, which is now a Vet Surgery). But The Unicorn stubbornly hangs in there.

It's now owned, of course, by a Pubco. In this case Trust Inns of Chorley who own around 80 premises around the North West. We know this because of the "Do you want to run this pub?" sign that frequently appears on the side of the building. Three times in as many years, by my reckoning.

Numerous tales of unsuitable  landlords, crap beer and a dismal clientele abound about The Unicorn. But somehow it stays as a going concern. Being near the University of Central Lancashire, most assumed it would have been turned into student housing long ago (a fate of many pubs in this area). I can only imagine the cost of conversion is prohibitive. They even replaced the sign outside in June (whether at the Landlord or the Pubcos cost is unknown).

Me? Never been in. I'm presently in the pub next door which has better beer and a much better reputation. If the Unicorn wants to be a continuing and viable pub, it needs to address these issues, rather than A-boarding messages about 40,000 song karaoke database or Free Pool.

I'm betting it'll be student flats by 2020, myself.

The Keg-Only Pub

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon in Preston.  For once, the sun is out, and people have found better things to do than sit inside a pub. Not me. As usual, I'm in the Moorbrook drinking the latest silly craft IPA IBU nonsense.

There was a couple walking behind me down Garstang Road, and they followed me into the pub. Not for them the immediate drinks order on being greeted by the landlord. No. The most important thing they want to know is "What time's the football on here?" Needless to say, the Moorbrook doesn't have Sky Sports.

After a brief conferral between them, and old boy sat at the bar piped up and told them that the game was being shown in a pub 200 yards away - The Wellfield on Adelphi Street. Formerly a Greenall Whitley house, this is now a Sports Bar, catering to, shall-we-say, Preston's more down-to-earth element. It is keg only.

While I am of course sat here drinking keg beer, this IPA is not the sort of thing served at the Welly.  Lager, Smooth and Guinness rule there. I have never been, as such things would attract comment from both the existing patrons and everyone who knows me and my usual tastes.

I remember a discussion about this on Twitter the other day. How many, it was asked, pubs are keg-only (the non-craft type, that is).  For all their many and myriad faults, CAMRA Central Lancashire helpfully provide a list for our perusal on their website.  Many of those listed as having "No Real Ale" are student/fun pub places (Popwold, Beachcomber, Oblivion); others are chain theme pubs (O'Neill's, Roper Hall). These places would never do Real Ale, as either it's not what the company does, or it's aimed-for clientele would never buy enough of it to make it worthwhile.

This leaves the old-fashioned keg pubs.  The places for whom the Real Ale and Craft revolution has somehow passed by.  They are either terrifying (The Bears Paw, The Golden Cross) or dumps in an endlessly repeating open-close cycle (The Black-a-Moor Head, The Tithebarn).  I'd say these types comprise of about 10% of Preston's pubs.

The keg-only pub is reckoned to be the kind that has suffered most over the last 15 years, as it's traditional drinker has either been seduced by cheaper supermarket beer, or put off by the smoking ban (the working classes are statistically far more likely to be smokers even now).  That any are left at all is suprising. None are highly regarded. Not by the middle classes, who see them as hotspots of drunkenness, lassitude and criminality. And neither by the discerning beer drinker, who regard them as dens of crap beer being sold to idiots.

I'm probably just as guilty of this, as I'd never be seem dead in The Wellfield or The Moor Park. But it can't be denied that a certain sector of the drinking population feel more comfortable in them than in a CAMRA or Crafty pub. What for them when the traditional keg-only pub finally disappears?

Events, Dear Boy, Events

A fine establishment, I'm sure

As everyone who knows me even slightly will have ascertained, I'm a miserable bastard. I go to the pub alone, I drink alone, and engage in conversation there only when compulsory. I deal with enough people and their nonsense during the week, and I don't need it during my precious time off.

Other people, though, are not like this. They like crowds and noise, and this is what they demand from their local licenced establishment.  Pubcos and Free House Landlords know this, and try to cater to them, knowing that "just going out for a drink" is something most people profess not to want in the 21st Century.

The pub I'm in at the moment has a full week planned.  Jazz night on Tuesday, Quiz night on Thursday, and Irish Music night on Sunday.  I know. It's plastered on at least two blackboards in my immediate vicinity.  And it's good for me, at least, to know these things. Because then I know when NOT to go to the pub.

As we know (and if you don't, Mudgie will no doubt tell you), just going out for a drink these days is frowned upon in polite society.  So, if the pub is doing a quiz or music night, you can always tell people you're going for the Event rather than the Drink. Honest guv.

Such things don't matter to me, as I'm secure of my place (or otherwise) in society. But normal people don't want to be seen drinking for the sake of drinking. As such "Event" nights in pubs are usually busy. In the old days, such thing were left to Clubs, but even in the North West these have died a death.

If Events get people into pubs during otherwise quiet times, than it's probably a good thing. If nothing else, it keeps the place viable so it's open during the quieter times I prefer. But one hopes that Theme Nights don't take over.  What place for a quiet drink then?

Are Pubs Really Important?

The most important issue facing society today

Do you remember 2010? There was some kind of election if you recall. Now, I do my best to avoid such things as I consider myself depressed enough. But, I was reading about on a Doctor Who forum. As you do.

Now, if you have the misfortune to be a longtime Doctor Who fan, you will have heard of a gentleman by the name of Ian Levine. Mr Levine is the original Superfan.  He found a few missing episodes back in the 70s and 80s, but these days he's more regarded as a bizarre aberration and, indeed, an example of the worst of fandom.

Anyway, around the time of the 2010 Election, Levine posted on the Gallifrey Base forum about his voting intentions "Which Party's policies," he wrote "would be best for the continued production of Doctor Who?". We thought he was joking, but then we remembered he'd never betrayed evidence of a sense of humour before.

It's important to realise that, as fans of things, such things are important to us. And that's all OK and good.  But there are other things that are more important.

Say you're a pub blogger. Pubs are important to you. In fact, they could even be pretty much your whole world. You may even look up a particular political party's manifesto and see which bit will be good for the pubs you like, regardless of the effects of these policies on health, education, trade and industry etc.  (other government departments are available).

Pubs are an important part of British culture. But are they the only part that matters.

Ain't that Peachy Keen

This town ain't no good for a girl or a boy

Are more people visiting pubs during weekdays. I mean, are they REALLY?  The Morning Advertiser seems to think so. People seem to eating out as a family more often. And offers and events are apparently drawing people to the pub on what would otherwise be quiet days. I personally have seen no evidence for this, so I decided to test out this theory on a Monday here in Preston.

Pub #1 - around 3pm. The local Wetherspoons. A smattering of customers. Big group of drinkers in the middle, but mostly couples eating meals. Probably counts as reasonable trade on Mondays. If the above hypothesis is true, a Spoons would be the most likely place you would see it in action.

Pub #2 -  4pm. Historic pub owned by family brewery.  About four customers and two staff, one of whom seems to be shifting about a massive CRT TV for no discernible reason. The very fact you can do this in a pub as narrow as this shows how few customers there are. The beer I'm drinking (or at least attempting to drink) is closing in on acetic, which probably isn't helping the pub's cause.

Pub #3 - around quarter to 5. Recently refurbished free house on the outskirts of the town centre. Three people in here, me included. I stay for a while, but I am the only person who has more than one drink. 

Back to Pub #2 - 7:30pm.  Bar area now occupied by four sixtysomething alcoholics alternately finding events hilarious or slumping morosely into their pints. I choose a different beer this time, which isn't vinegar but is less than inspiring. As is the company and the conversation. Back home it is. It's not even 8pm.

So, not a very convincing demonstration of increased trade outside typical hours. In fact several of the pubs precluded me testing this, as they remained steadfastly shut. One had it's door still closed at 4pm, despite advertising an opening time of 11:30. Another, which certainly was open on Friday, never actually opened at all.

It could be that Preston, in the immortal words of Pamela Blue, is as dead as the flies on the wall. It's also outside term time, which wouldn't help as the students from the exponentially expanding UCLAN will mostly be out of town. But would anyone, save for a really special event, actually choose to drink in a town pub early in the week?

If you want to feel miserable, then OK. This is for you. But if you want anything approaching a good time, then stay at home and watch satellite TV with the beverage or substance of your choice.

The Community Doesn't Care

Community local, yesterday

I'm sure you know the drill by now. Evil Enterprise or Pusillanimous Punch decide your local pub is no longer viable. So they run it down and put the landlord on notice. You don't approve of this, as it's where you go to avoid the wife and family. Thankfully, the government is (sort of) on your side.  You can declare "your" pub as an Asset Of Community Value. This, if nothing else, buys you 9 months. But not the pub itself, as the hideous PubCo will ask you to pay over the odds for it.

CAMRA trumpets the success stories that somehow occur through this process. There's a whole article about it in the latest edition of BEER. What you tend not hear about is the failures. The stories that get a paragraph article in the Morning Advertiser and disappear from the home page in a couple of days.

Mostly, it seems to be that most misunderstood institution "the community local" that's most affected by this. In many ways, it's symptomatic of the death of community in the UK. If people were using these locals, then there'd be little incentive to close them. As I've said before, in ye olden days (up to 1990 or so), people HAD to go to the pub for entertainment as there was very little else to do. Other humans, amazing as it may seem today, were the most interesting thing available. And what better place to encounter them than at the pub, where copious amounts of alcohol would make even the most tedious bore tolerable.

Nowadays, the average young (and even not-so-young) male has Sky Sports, Spotify and streaming internet porn.  He doesn't have to deal with god damn people to avoid the crushing boredom of post-work existence. A few cans in front of the TV and computer suits him fine. So now the out of town local without a decent food option is deserted.  Sad. But thems the times we live in. Sorry, Barbara Streisand, but people don't need people any more.

Misanthropic drunk in empty pub, yesterday

The only pubs that are reasonably succesful are in town centres, where they are generally "sought out" rather than "dropped into". Sure, the clientele tends to be beer fans, asocial misfits and general weirdos. And alcoholics. But business is business.  What they have in common is they're there for the drink, not for people.

"Community" is slowly receding into the past in the UK in the 21st Century.  Misanthropy and misunderstanding are the default interactions between people. Suits me fine, as I'm a complete and utter bastard. But it bodes I'll for certain previously cherished social institutions.

If you don't need people, why would you need a local pub?

Regression to the Mean

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If that's not true, then certainly the signs point to mediocrity.

Imagine. You get the lease for a dismal, failing pub. All it's clientele are either scum, or on the verge of death. But wait! What's this you read? Craft beer is a big thing now. Surely, there's a whole untapped market in town for all those Crafties who will pay a premium for decent beer?

So, you refurbish the place. You get rid of all the old nonsense like macro lager, and a cask option of Wells Bombardier and Sharps Doom Bar. You ring up James Clay and fill the fridge with UK micro bottles and Continental stuff. You put craft keg and unusual lager on your fonts, and obscure but excellent non-local ales on the handpumps.

And what happens?

The casuals are confused. They walk into your pub and can't see a single brand they recognise. No Guinness? You can't be a proper pub without Guinness, they say. And what's Krombacher or Freedom Four? Haven't you got Kronenbourg or Carling? What sort of pub is this?

You patiently explain that this is a Craft Pub, committed to beer excellence, and this is what we have. Grudgingly, they order what you suggest, drink up and leave. Possibly for a place they feel more comfortable in. After a few weeks, you find this happens often.

Maybe, you think, it wouldn't be such a bad thing to put one macro lager on. We'll still keep the other seven taps for good stuff, but at least the casuals won't be scared off.

Then you find the Casketeers are bemused by your real ale selection. What's this cloudy, hoppy stuff from a place I've never heard of? Is it made in a shed or something. I mean, I'm all for supporting diversity in Real Ale, but haven't you got anything more traditional? So, again grudgingly, you stick on a couple of Boring Brown Bitters.

And so it goes. Eventually, you're left with a similar token Craft option all the other pubs do. The race for the centre ground has left you exactly in the middle, indistinct from the crowd.

Such are the perils of trying to be "Craft" in a non-metropolitan area.

Your Friendly Local

I can't remember these times, but I'm told there was a time when pretty much everyone of a certain social standing went to the pub. Before satellite TV and internet porn, socialising with people was a major recreational activity.  And for this, you'd go to what was colloquially called "The Local".

The actual beer served didn't really matter.  Thwaites, Greenalls, Tetley, Matthew Brown. It was probably all badly kept filth, anyway. But that didn't matter, as you were swapping gossip and nonsense with your mates, and you were smoking the kind of cigarettes that precluded tasting things anyway. You sat on your ripped leather bench behind a wonky table, placed your feet in the sawdust, sipped your malt vinegar, and talked utter bollocks until closing time.

Sadly, these days people simply expect more.  They want comfort and drinks that taste nice.  All this media stuff and travel have widened people's horizons, and they're simply not satisfied with just lapping up what they're given just because it's closest.  The Mudgie-beloved community local has died a death in recent years because people want better than that.

In many ways, we're softer and more pathetic than our forebears in our unwillingness to put up with discomforts for small pleasures.  But such nostalgia is unlikely to help the pub industry.  So, next time you find yourself sitting in a faux-swank chain pub drinking a pint of decent but nondescript beer, just think of this - This is what the People Actually Want.

The Landlord

No, this isn't a post about the best known product of Timothy Taylor, fine product when well-kept it no doubt is. No, in my increasingly reckless journey down the road of iconoclasm, I'm going the write about the person who runs The Pub.

Imagine. You go to the pub, probably for a swift pint before your evening meal. There to greet you is a jolly, ruddy-cheeked chap with sideburns polishing a glass. He knows your name, and is pouring your drink before you even order it. And again, before you even finish that one. As the night closes in, he will listen to the tales of your day with a sympathetic ear, all the while making sure your glass is fuller than your life's events makes it seem. Then, at the end of the night, when you're somewhat the worse for wear, he will gently shepherd you out and back off home, never presuming or offending, but making clear he has your best interests at heart. He closes the doors, to begin the nightly task of making sure his pub is as spick-and-span as when the doors opened that day. Then he turns in, happily reassured by the knowledge that the cycle will begin anew at noon the following day.

Or so the popular image goes. Sadly, the actual experience of tenant landlords in current times sadly exposes this as a myth. The BBC has reported a study that Publicans have one of the lowest levels of job satisfaction, and the Morning Advertiser says many are struggling.  As you've probably read elsewhere, the pincer of falling on-trade drinks sales and pub company/brewery pressures are likely to be behind this. It's a wonder anyone wants to take on a pub at all.

So why be a tenant landlord of a pub? You own the actual business, but you're unlikely to own the building itself or the infrastructure that supports it. When you fail to meet targets, or displease your masters, you're likely to be evicted. Thus losing both your job and home in one go. And even if you do manage to be a success, your rent will likely be raised as a reward.  The salaried manager has none of this, he or she just collects the money and goes home. While they can be pressured and fired, they won't become homeless and a guaranteed a certain amount of cash each month.

Is it now prudent to "call time" (pub article cliché #1, sorry) on the concept of the tenant landlord?  To me, it seems a model of employment left over from the 19th Century, never mind the 20th. I presume it worked when landlords were owner-proprietors, but when they live in a company building to sell that company's products, it seems to be a relationship based on exploitation and coercion. It almost goes without saying that the biggest (and possibly only) pub success of the last 20 years, Wetherspoons, is exclusively salary-managed. I assume that most of the hipster crafty places are run on similar lines, too.

As far as I can see, there are precious few reasons to keep the tenant model going. The only thing it does is attract people with the promise of liberty, but only providing indentured servitude.

The Female-Friendly Pub

Tea light, yesterday. Hordes of females not pictured

What with the obvious declining nature of the pub trade, those in charge of these things are either trying to appeal to as many people as possible, or attempting to wedge themselves into an otherwise-unoccupied niche.

One pub of my acquaintance, hitherto a crafty beer place, has been earmarked by the pubco for certain changes, on the somewhat peculiar grounds that there's not enough money to be made in selling decent beer.

This particular pub company has a female executive in charge of marketing and "customer engagement" and her Big Idea is to make this pub more "female friendly". A nebulous term if ever there was one.

Without wanting to come over all Misogynist Dave, there aren't, in my experience, many things that 

the majority of women like. The aforementioned female executive's idea of this consists of (a) tea lights on every table (b) a soft rock playlist and (c) removing all stools from the bar. I suggested to the manager that he should stop selling alcoholic beverages altogether, and concentrate on Cat Memorabilia, cupcakes and chocolate. I'm not sure he realised it wasn't a serious suggestion.

In my opinion, such theming of pubs is doomed, as it has the whole thing the wrong way round. The clientele should be the majority of the pub atmosphere and raison d'etre, rather than inventing a " concept" and hoping the "right" people appear.

Would people like a town centre fully of nichey theme places? And how long would it all last if it was? Remember the Eighties, yes, the Eighties...

Weather or Not

It seems summer has arrived early in the North West. After 6 months of wet weather that made the Pacific seem like the Sahara by comparison, the previously unseen round yellow thing in the sky has made an appearance. No doubt it will be pissing it down tomorrow, but people seem to be enjoying it while it's there. If you live in Lancashire, I suppose you have to.

What this mean for the drinking establishments will vary. The problem will be for places that don't have outside seating (or "Beer Gardens" as they are often euphemistically called). I know of one such place who's manager left after being confronted by the pub company for "under par" sales in the hot summer of 2013. "But we don't have a beer garden!" he told them "Everyone went to those bloody places by the canal!" To no avail.

At the time I suggested a 10% discount for goths (no way would they be outside, with that black clothing), but that foundered when the barman said, with characteristic open-mindedness "I'm not fucking serving goths". Some people don't like logical suggestions, it appears.

The crunch time for the place will be this summer. Being a bar of the Crafty persuasion, it has no TVs, so the World Cup (a long-standing booster of the pub trade) will be a no-go. So I will offer them another idea. "Look," I shall say "not everyone likes football. Simply put on Facebook, Twitter, the website etc. this this place is a 'World Cup Free Zone' You can even put a burst ball on the A-board outside and write on it 'Want to see the big game? Well, fuck off to Spoons, then.' Turn a negative into a positive, man."

I await to see the reaction when I suggest this.

The Lone Drinker

I'll admit it here - I'm 38 and single. While this gives me certain advantages as far as freedom goes, I do the vast majority of my drinking alone.

This does restrict me a bit. Either I go to a crowded pub and look like a lemon, or go to a deserted pub and be served and ignored. Thankfully, I have the regular haunt where the other regulars know me by sight (and, by god, what a sight) if not by name. But it can make other pubs a somewhat alienating experience.

On the way home on a Sunday night, I tend to call into the last pub on the way home. This is a multi-room Mitchell & Butler job. Averagely priced drinks for average people. Occasionally there's something good on, but not often. Mostly, it's frequented by groups of of people having their last drink before the week calls them away from sociability. I go in on my own, and feel slightly uncomfortable, especially if my personal hidey corner is taken.

As the housing statistics will say, there's been an enormous growth in single people over the last 20 years - what with ever increasing divorce rates and lack of pressure to cohabit. So, could the solution to the declining pub trade be making the places more comfortable for the lone drinker?

Imagine - a pub made of single-table hidey-holes, with free Wi-Fi and soundproof isolation from the rest of the world. Where the single man or woman could drink in peace without the hassle of other fucking people.

Some people would say the pub should be social. But why not try the Misanthropic Approach? It could work, and has as good a chance as any in 2014's climate.

Who needs people to drink with anyway?

The Walkout

These days, the pub industry runs on a tight margin.  Stock levels are kept down during quiet times, expensive products are exchanged for cheaper ones, and most of all staff levels are cut as far as they can be.

Early January is always the slowest time of the year. My regular haunt has cut 16 hours off its trading time because, frankly, nobody is drinking on weekday afternoons.  Many places now only have one person on the rota most times. This can present certain difficulties, as I saw today.

I was in a different pub to usual, due to the usual place's aforementioned new opening hours. I was one of three customers there. The barman took a food order from the other two and disappeared into the kitchen to sort it out. Then the pub phone started ringing. It rang for over a minute, so it was presumably important.  Then another customer came to the bar. He saw nobody there. He waited 30 seconds and left. Potential trade lost.  The barman reappeared just as the door shut, but he wouldn't have known any of this.

This sometimes happens at my usual place, but as I know the staff there, I usually know what they're doing and can tell any waiting customers they'll get served in, literally, about one minute. They can then make up their own mind whether they want to stay. But what happens when there's no regular to explain this?

No, they will just bugger off and think "Well, not going there again".  So,  how can the customer be satisfied and the pub keep it's staffing rota balanced for trade? In my opinion, it can't. These two desires cannot meet in the middle, and a certain amount of potential trade will always be lost.

But the thing is, the pub will never know how much it's losing...

The Point Of CAMRA

I've been wondering about this for some time.

RedNev writes here that beer festivals, and especially CAMRA ones, are entering a new age of commerciality what with their charging a £7 entry fee and going to online ticket selling.  While this begs the question what the funds raised by this, and more to the point any surplus after venue fees and beer cost, go towards, I've been asking myself recently : What is CAMRA FOR in 2013.

The 1970s battle has been won.  Real Ale has been saved, and there are now hundred of breweries in the UK making it; <checks watch> possibly even thousands by now.  Though certain CAMRA branches (mine included) still believe big brewers want to rip out all the handpumps and make us all drink Watney's Red Barrel again, I don't think this will happen somehow.

In my experience, there is a certain suspicion amongst licensees about CAMRA's members' motives.  In another town (and another branch), one landlord said to me "Oh, you're in CAMRA, are you?",  and tried to get me to vote for his pub at the next committee meeting.  "The bastards only vote for <pub name removed>, as they give them the biggest discount.", he complained.  I didn't have the heart to tell him that even if I did have any influence with the Beard Club, I certainly didn't have any round here.  I was told similar things by other landlords in the same town, such as "They whinge about pub closing, but all they want is money off their next pint."

It could be that, for the vast majority of members, the discount is the main reason for joining CAMRA. What percentage of the membership is involved in actual "campaigning", rather than thinking of it as a money-off club with a free quarterly magazine?  My guess is in single figures.  CAMRA publicity material flaunts its 150,000 strong cohort, but usually only uses it as a tool to gain influence.  "Look at how many of us there are supporting real ale", it seems to say, despite the fact that few of them do more than simply buying it.

Maybe CAMRA should change its emphasis to supporting the suffering pub trade, or providing a voice against the increasing demonisation of public alcohol consumption.  If it doesn't find a distinct role, it could become an increasing irrelevance, populated by a silent membership whose sole reason for joining is the Wetherspoons tokens.

Solving the Pub Crisis

Average Preston student pub, yesterday

Reading the latest issue of the local CAMRA magazine this week, it seems they have a new columnist.  Well, I thought, at least it'll mean less words devoted to the evils of "Zombeers".  When I actually read it, though, it was by a "Former Leisure Industry Consultant" giving his views on how to turn the ever-declining pub industry around.  One pub in Warrington, apparently, has opened its doors as a drop-in centre for young mothers and their children.  I imagined one well-known blogger choking on his pint of Unicorn if that ever happened in Stockport.

My own personal plan, as is ever the case with me, is idiosyncratic.  I came up with it after reading about the tribulations of Freshers' Week, an event where millions of young people leave their homes and move to another part of the country to live with strangers and gain a degree.

But I say, bollocks to all that.  If we want to save the pubs, I recommend a different course.  Instead of loaning 18-year-olds £5000 a year for course fees and accommodation just so they can "study" to get a lower second in Klingon Studies or Applied Playground Management, I say give them a bedsit and £5000 in state-issued pub vouchers, redeemable at any building with a premises license for on-site consumption.

Imagine - the pubs would be full of young people enjoying themselves during the day, rather than empty but for a couple of miserable old codgers quoting the Daily Mail.  Not only that, but the kids themselves would be socialising freely instead of pretending to read and underline passages in textbooks about the literary history of Faerie.  Which would at least be honest.

I say get rid of the pretence of education, and have more drinking and socialising.  It really would be the "best time of your life" then.

Service

Well, possibly true...

There is a pub in Lancaster. It has a sign outside proclaiming a "Warm Welcome".  From what I've heard, the only warmth you'll get there is if you upset the clientele there, say by looking funny at their pint, and they set you on fire.  If anyone from Drinkaware wanted to prove the link between lager and fighting, this is the place they would go to.  It is "under new management".  Nothing has changed.

If this teaches us anything, it's always to be wary of pubs that have "Warm Welcome" displayed on the exterior.  If it's something they actually have to say, then it's doubtful it has ever existed.

And why do pub websites always proclaim things like "excellent home-cooked food" and "friendly service"?  In the majority of pubs, I've found, such things are barely true, if not downright lies. In fact, I would prefer it if some places were honest and said "reheated processed stuff from Brakes" and "surly and grudging service" :

CUSTOMER : "A pint of Mudgington's Old Perigrinator, Please"

<BARMAN grumbles and fiddles with sparkler, while dispensing froth that cascades over the glass>

BARMAN : <thumps down pint glass to dislodge inch of head> "Two ninety, and if you don't want another you can bugger off to the Bluebottle And Botulism down the road"

May not get the best reviews in Tripadvisor, but it would make a change if nothing else.

Some people say that British pubs would do better if they went the "table service and tips" way of the United States.  No doubt casual diners and drinkers would like it, but the average UK pub denizen is a miserable bastard who, if he's not putting the world to drunken rights with his mate or random fellow barfly, just wants to be left alone with his pint.  He doesn't want to be asked "Is everything ok?" every 20 minutes, because he knows damn well things aren't ok and never will be.

Would you prefer the pub equivalent of the left or the right?

I'm afraid if you change pubs too much too soon, they will end up with Dandy Syndrome where every "improvement" halves sales at a stroke.