As the doors close forever after this weekend…

The first time I heard about St Jerome’s was from Andrea, a girl I met one night at a bar in North Melbourne where you could watch sumo wrestling and bet shots of saki over who would win. You gotta check this bar out she said. Sure I replied.

The following week I followed Andrea’s instructions and looked for the small glass door in the laneway behind The Lounge, which for some reason, was always full of boxes, just like in car chase scenes (the ceremonial dive into the boxes became a ritual).

I found the door, walked in, and that was it. I was home.

I could induldge in stories about the bar, about the many great nights, about the secret gigs that spawned a nation wide music festival, about the many awesome people, but I won’t. I just want to say thanks for being a home to so many of us.

So from my brother Emmanuel, my father Rudy (yep, he went there too) and me. Cheers.

PS. Monkey, enjoy tonight…