In this day and age of superclubs and heavily themed bars there sleeps an old friend whose presence, while not as exciting as a thousand throbing body parts or wacky names and gimicks, is still worth while and deserves our attention.

His name, my friend, is the old local.

Every niehborhood has them, usually on the corner with a few neon signs lightly boasting of the domestic brews within. These are the places that are stereotyped in movies such as Barfly and Trees Loungeand whose legend lives on as great as portrayed. Not all together clean but never really dirty, a down home place with good people who work day in and day out to put down $2.50 for a draft in a frosted mug.

The bartenders are a bit gruff but will serve anyone as long as the color of the money is right. A pool table in the corner, maybe with a few locals around it slowly smoking, drinking and sometimes, if it catches their fancy, shooting a ball or two. Everyone knows who the guy at the end of the bar is, the one who is there at opening and will close the bar every night. He has a sad story to tell, one of love lost and lonelyness, of people and places that will sound strange to your ears if not a bit crazy. A bought drink is all that is needed to whet his story telling whistle.

The local represents time lost. Where steel workers went after a day in the yards building the war machines of the 20's. Where they raised thier glasses high when those wars came to an end, each and every time.

No, the brews to be had are not going to have fancy names or cool looking labels. They will all be domestics in tall bottles or off an old tap worn with age. The liquer in the back might have a layer or two of dust on it but the contents will still be good. Don't try ordering any drink named after a city or that requires more than a quick shake. No blenders are going to make blue and purple icy drinks with umbrellas in this establishment.

Around the bar are black and white pictures of old sports heroes, wrinking with age. A few trophies from the local softball team or pool turnament sit high on shelves, in places of great honor.

These are places for everyone. A place to be noticed or found, to be left along or to enganged in the scoring of the home town team. Sit alone or bring a friend, just don't forget your old local bar.