Just behind Beck's Prime, swaddled beneath a miniature forest, Muldoon's employs some of the friendliest and loveliest bartenders in town. Since it's just out of sight of Westheimer, patrons can find refuge here from the standard commotion of the Galleria.
Limited seating guarantees that the bar nurtures a casual atmosphere, and the staff perpetuates that ambiance. Mid-level prices aren't high enough to turn you away, and most patrons would probably pay even more for the ability to actually hear their friends talk.
2611 Augusta, 713-706-4490, muldoonsbar.com
This accolade from The Houston Press this week is a welcome reinforcement of the brag I have been making for many years.
Sure and haven’t I been telling you this for the last 20 years? Back in our days of having more excitement and fun that any two people on the planet could possibly endure I wrote stories about Muldoon’s that you can find in this Compendium of Muldoonian Approximations at www.SeamusMuldoon.com . Can you possibly imagine the enormous tides of whiskey we have poured down the throats of all and sundry. And nary a liver has exploded in all these years. Muldoon’s should receive a citation from the Kidney & Liver Foundation for pouring copious drinks into the systems of Houstonians and sundry visitors without ruining their physical or mental health. And think of the marriages that have been saved because folks came to Muldoon’s after work instead of going home frustrated and beating the crap out of the old lady. An hour or so with one or more of our ladies of the lounge lizard society and you go home a mellower and kinder soul. Only a truly great pub can do that.
I will always be nostalgic over this. The bar – and especially this bar – is perhaps the most positive public institution in our society. To me it trumps a church because you enter it with greater expectations of real comfort and real first hand joy. In a bar there is no scolding. In a bar there can be an unashamed release of true feelings. You will find true love more often in a bar than anywhere else on earth. In my own experience I met the love of my life, the girl of my dreams in a saloon in Texas. A Bar is the true Christian Mingle, especially back before ChristianMingle .com. It is where Christians go to mingle in the most socially positive sense, true fellowship. Belinda and I spent many of our happiest moments in Muldoon’s’. Today more than twenty years after we first visited the place on its opening day, we still see people we met only at Muldoon’s. It is a dear place to us. Father Chuck, for all his Father Chuckiness, remains dear to us as well. Whenever Belinda is apprehensive of something happening to me, it is Father Chuck that she calls for solace and comfort.
Father Chuck, as he is known by his flock, has many quaint Father Chuckisms, expressions he picked up everywhere from Altoona Pennsylvania where he was born to Boston where he attended and played football at Holy Cross. Most memorable perhaps is his description of his exercise periods, which he refers to as “breaking a sweat”. Lately he has begun to repeat himself rather often as if doing something he feels would support his stories of his many violent victories on the gridiron. Sometimes he will repeatedly and deliberately mispronounce words and then break out into laughter as though it were something terribly funny. Of course his friends chuckle along with him, muttering “bless his heart” under their breath. But he is always there when you need him, a true friend even in his burgeoning dotage. He loves to sell beer and booze and accordingly refuses to stock decent wine of any stripe. He keeps a few splits of Chateau Truck Stop sparkling wine just in case someone wants to celebrate a watershed moment in their lives or get married at Muldoon’s. Somewhere in the back in a drawer he keeps a few plastic Champaign glasses that he can quickly assemble for the celebratory moment. He has two kinds, sweet and dry. Actually a six pack of Little Kings Cream Ale would taste better than this shit, but what can you say? Since Little Kings is not a local libation and I never tell him that it is Cynthia’s favorite – a pre Belinda dearly loved charming woman.He thinks I am just fucking with his head. Belinda is the only love of my life he has ever known, so there is an entire history to which he has no access. Words like Sally, Debby, Claire, Cynthia, Lee and others that escape even me seem just ancient sacred mysteries to him.
We now have another wonderful piece of news. Do you remember the Enron fraud case, where the officers of Enron Corporation bilked shareholders out of billions of dollars through phony accounting blessed by Arthur Anderson – one of the biggest and most prestigious accounting firms in America at the time (that no longer exists since they were caught burning their Enron files to keep them away from the grand jury)? The principal engineers of the schemes were Jeffrey Skilling, its President and Andrew Fastow, their Chief Financial Officer who raked off millions in personal insider profits in several of the phony deals. Fastow’s wife was also involved and the two of them served prison time for their genius. It was a case where they requested the Federal Court (and the Court granted the request) to order their serving of their sentences so their children would not have to miss both parents during Jewish holidays. Try getting that kind of treatment if you aren’t wealthy white collar criminals. Fastow was the kind of guy who would steal the boogers out of a dead man’s nose.
Ken Lay, son of a Baptist preacher and CEO of Enron,was also convicted, having made millions off the scam and claiming he knew nothing about it but was betrayed by disloyal underlings – yeah right. Well, right after the jury brought in his guilty verdict Ken Lay went off to his ranch and it was reported that he had a heart attack and died and was cremated quickly before an autopsy could be performed – yeah right. Most of us believe Ken is now living a very glorious and lavish life down in Montevideo Uruguay under some other name and is far from dead.
Anyhow, Skilling is now reported to be getting a major sentence reduction that ought to have him back at Muldoon’s, his favorite bar where he and his henchmen hatched many of these schemes back in those heady days. We are planning a fantastic welcome home party at Muldoon’s for Jeff and his new bimbos. Supposedly Chuck has convinced him to pose for one of our prison pictures that we maintain of famous jailbirds from those thrilling days of yesteryear who were regulars at Muldoon’s back when they were free and rich, riding high while impoverishing people nearing retirement and others of their investors. It will be a get out of jail theme party.
As soon as the day of the party is fixed we will post a notice so that no one need miss it. Befitting a party for fraudsters, we will be short pouring drinks and padding tabs.
Y’ALL COME BACK, YA HEAR!
By Seamus Muldoon, Himself
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