Toast, Taste, Self-Immolate

Almost exactly five years ago today, my village local, the Second Chance Saloon, poured out its last drinks and closed its doors. The Oakland Mills Village Center was sold to a different set of owners in 2022. Overall they seem to have been more attentive to things in our neck of the woods than the previous owners.

The space that was the Second Chance is still empty. 

The closing of the Second Chance was covered in local blog Warren’s Beer Adventures. This exterior shot is his, not mine. (All my 2C pix are interiors.)

Image from Warren’s Beer Adventures

Comments on the blog post suggest that a future business in this space might be called “Third Chance” or “Any Chance”. I was surprised that “No Chance in Hell” wasn’t a contender. 

Here’s what it looks like now.

Images property of Klein Enterprises 

A big chunk of my life happened in this place. Just like my life, it had some beautiful high points, some appallingly awful lows, and a whole lotta “meh.” And, like my life and (probably yours) sometimes “meh”is preferable to the alternative. 

All that being said, sometimes I miss it.

Here’s one thing I don’t miss, and it’s not specific to the Second Chance. There’s something sad and sometimes downright frightening about alcohol-fueled places. 

There’s a difference between a meal with a cocktail or beer and an evening of binge-drinking that ends in a brawl or a trip to the ER. I feel like we just shrug our shoulders at that as a culture. People expect that certain life events will be accompanied by alcohol, and - - mostly - -  accept that the drinking involved may be excessive and irresponsible.

My first-born works in fine dining/hospitality and the alcohol-related things she has seen would make your hair stand on end. If you serve alcohol you need to be prepared for that, I guess. It comes with the territory.

Why do we accept that? Is it honestly that enjoyable or necessary? Are the consequences worth it?

I was mulling this over at dinner last night and was trying to put my concern into words. 

“It’s one thing to light a candle to set a romantic or celebratory mood. But this is like dousing yourself with gasoline and setting yourself on fire.”

Do you think it is possible for our culture to evolve in a healthier way? Can we educate young people before they even start drinking and help them understand the difference between one flame and a conflagration? I’m not suggesting doing away with alcohol. I’m wondering if we need to keep watching people using it as a weapon against themselves in the name of “celebrating” and do absolutely nothing.

Could it be better? Could we be better? What do you think? 

In the meantime, I do sometimes pass my old hangout and imagine turning it into a home and living there, just so I could have the quirkiest house in town. Now that there’s no Columbia Flier building to fantasize about anymore, the thought of redesigning the place with the triangle roof has its charms. And it has a lovely back patio, too. 

Hmm…

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