Tracking indicates otherwise, but this is my second time reading this book. I have two separate, both complimentary, ways of looking at this book. One more general, one more personal.
First, the Callahan's stories are some of Robinson's best known and loved works. A great humorist and writer, Robinson is perhaps at his best merging many of his personal loves and thoughts with this fun fictional universe. Scifi, fantasy, comedy, music, slice of life...Callahan's is a great pioneering example of what might be called 'slipstream' fiction today. Infallibly positive and heartwarming with thoroughly grounded caricatures, there's really little to dislike here.
Second...Callahan's were among some of my Aunt's favorite genre books. I have some theories as to why, but ultimately these were the only books as a kid she wouldn't just let me have from her collection. I suspect she may have had similar reasons me.
Its a less than closely guarded secret, but I've been to Callahan's. Oh, I never wrote to Robinson and got one of the chit's or a secret message bout the locale. But see, Callahan's used to be in a lot of places. Its become more and more difficult to find over the years as Mike has had to close down...too much influencer culture, too much lack of community, too much gentrification, you get the idea.
I shouldn't do this to myself, but maybe it will help...See, *my* Callahan's was just like described, save it was nestled in a neglected arts district, surrounded by less than ideal neighborhoods in a major city. But those of us, newcomers, old time hippies that never left, oddball immigrants from England to Vietnam, everyone nearby that was inclined, we had a Callahan's. In our bar, Mike went by Craig, and sure, he had gone grey (and pretended to just be a fan of Robinson's books rather than a star) but was otherwise the same guy. Oh, there were superficial differences, you gotta cater to the locals a little, one side of the bar was all cozy nooks, low tables, egyptian influenced hippy decorations, and the other side was a little more what one might expect...lots of wood, brass rails, etc. And yeah, Craig had partners (that brit and vietnamese immigrant I mentioned, we always celebrated Insurrection Day) and some old hippies he had known for decades. It was just like described though...we all helped clean up if we were still around at the end of the night, got people home safely, invited new folks who might need the community and kept an eye on newcomers who came in on their own and took care of trouble if it came up. We all helped each other, and the place, celebrating birthdays, holidays, weddings, and wakes, just like they talk about. Shared pain decreases, shared joy increases. 'Employees' (and realistically, most of the regulars) lived in walking distance or barely outside it and we took turns running the place for them so they could have some nights to enjoy the place themselves for free.
But then...Craig left us, pretty unexpectedly. Our Jake, that brit Tina, tried to keep it together but even with all our help it was tough. Then gentrification started pushing folks further and further out of the area. Once no one who worked there could afford to live there anymore, and a lot of the long timers who didn't rent got squeezed out, it moved in the small business area. We had one last night...regulars and employees stretching back decades packed the place wall to wall as they were let in through the back door instead of the carefully locked and barred front. It was glorious and sad. I carried a lot folks to and from cars, up stairs and to beds that night. As was not entirely unheard of, some of us slept in the bar. We had our final Free Lunches.
About a year later, I risked a drive through the old neighborhood...it had changed so much I had problems even looking at it. I peaked in at the old bar. It looked like a thousand other trendy places you can find on social media. It was cold and sterile. No one working there, none of the customers, knew each other. No one lived within 30 minutes. No more free lunches. no more blessings. no more toasts. no more Mike getting your problems out without prying. No more Callahan's. I think about that every time I read one of these books.