O'Connor's, Classic Brooklyn Dive, Closes—for Renovations?

What happened?

I knew that times were a-changing over at O'Connor's, the 81-year-old Fifth Avenue dive bar. The Park Slope fixture had been bought by a new owner, who was slowly "improving" the old tavern, adding televisions, a big back room,  a food program and a rooftop addition meant to house a beer garden. It was all very un-O'Connor's. The appeal of the bar had always been its old-world decrepitude and timeless feel. There was a wonderful silence to the place and, if you didn't like quiet, a great juke box.

Well, now, it's just plain closed, according to Here's Park Slope. Apparently, work has reached such a point that the joint has to close down in order to complete it. The staff has been let go and the phone lines shut down. If it does reopen, expect a cleaner, more respectable bar. In short, a different bar. Hopefully, the owner won't touch the old bar and booths.

What's That Thing on Top of O'Connor's?

As has been reported earlier on this blog, the classic Brookyn dive O'Connor's (est. 1931) has been in the process of being ruined for a year or so now. The new owner said last year that he planned to expand the bar, add a big back room, crank out some fish and chips and other pub fare, add a stage for music and a second floor with beer garden.

Well, I guess that ugly white carbuncle plunked down on top of the black-painted bar is the beer garden.  Beauty. I wonder if it ever occurred to the owner that people come to O'Connor's because it's O'Connor's, not because it's a family joint or a hip youth mecca; or that, if people want to go to a modern beer garden, they now have about four dozen options in the city, including some good ones in Park Slope, and probably won't choose O'Connor's?

The inside, meanwhile, still looks basically the same, except that it's been noticeably cleaned up—not a dust speck anywhere—the old wooden phone booth is gone (*sob*) and a television has been added, piercing the one-time dive-bar silence. (I don't have a picture because you just don't take a picture of the interior of a dive bar full of barflies. It's not done.)

One thing that hasn't been changed, I'm happy to say, is the impossibly old and decrepit men's bathroom. I'm including a couple pictures here, not to gross anybody out, but because I'm fascinated by the wear and tear the old tile floor in the restroom has endured. The half-door into the stall, and the paper towel hung on a pipe are also nice touches.

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O'Connor's Bar to Be Ruined

I knew changes were afoot for O'Connor's, the wonderful old dive bar on Fifth Avenue at the edges of Park Slope. The last time I was there I heard the regulars grumbling about how the new owner was going to "improve" the place and make it more acceptable to the kind of people who like to rent bars for parties and receptions and such.

But I had no idea how devastating the changes would be. How, after they were done, O'Connor's wouldn't be O'Connor's any more, but something completely different and far blander.

The blog Here's Park Slope talked to owner Mike Maher, who bought the 80-year-old bar three years ago. He said the beautiful old bar will be expanded to at least three times' its original size (goodbye coziness!), with the addition of a huge back room, a kitchen serving the usual Irish far like fish and chips, burgers and such, and a second floor with an outdoor beer garden. There will also be a stage for live music (goodbye twilight-like, dive-bar silence).

"We're modernizing the room, but a priority is to keep the old look," Mayer told the blog. "We'll be saving the bar and the booths and as much of the room as we can, but the seats will be replaced, because they're falling apart. If we want to serve food, we have to bring it up to code." He added, "That O'Connor's brand, the O'Connor's feeling, that's not going anywhere."

Brand?

I'm doubtful. It sounds like O'Connor's is just going to become another run-of-the-mill Irish pub. Same kind of food, same "live music" program, same upstairs space for large parties, same, same, same. I supposed the great old bathrooms with be cleaned up, and the wooden telephone booth ripped out.  I loved that O'Connor's was just a bar, didn't have food besides those little bags of chips you could buy. I loved that it only had a jukebox, and a good one, too. I loved that it wasn't party central, but more an insulated retreat from the harsh world. 

This City has declared war on the dive bar.