9th & Main -- Always Something New -- Pun Intended

I didn't realize it was meant to be self-deprecating. I first saw the sign on the corner of 8th and Silver, facing north west on a vacant lot about three weeks ago advertsing 9th & Main with the slogan "always something new."

I thought to my self as I drove past, rolling my eyes, "No shit, you geniuses. That's the problem, isnt' it? No one knows what to expect from 9th & Main anymore, and so people have just stopped showing up."

Most by now who are even remotely in tune with Springfield, specifically, and downtown, generally, know the successes and failures, and lately the failures, that have come to personify 9th & Main's less than glorious existence.

Briefly (and I'm really simplifying this), it was a hit some years ago in the form of Henrietta's. Then it did okay as Nosh. Then it started hitting bumps and fits and coughs and sputters and I swear not even a scorecard, two maps and a pie chart could assist in keeping track of the myriad of handlers and management who foolishly sought their fortunes under the hallowed roof that once served as a Firestone station.

A year and a half ago 9th & Main appeared to have potential again. The lunches were doing okay and I always looked forward to the Friday family dinner out, with Ed Cotton playing in the background and my daughter running back and forth between the pool and foosball tables.

Then the inconsistency hit. The meals were tanking, the service ceased to exist and there was always a question of whether the restaurant would even be open on a given day at a given time. So we stopped going.

All the above to say that there may be new life, really new life, being pumped into 9th & Main again. Forgetting the vanity driven, pro se litigation and other management versus ownership issues that have gone on this past year, underneath the current structure there is a tireless, flowering effort that could bring stability, consistency, quality and overall enjoyment back to 9th & Main.

I approached the rumor of a re-born 9th & Main with intense skepticism and downright cynicism. But after enjoying a last stop night cap there two weeks ago, and standing out front with my visiting friend lamenting the end of the evening, I found myself soon caught up in conversation with Tory Aunspach, manager (for lack of a better word) of the "always something new" 9th & Main.

Now, mind you, this is not meant to be a fluff piece about Tory, or a jab at any of the past incarnations, or even a lovefest over the future of Springfield. This is merely the telling of a story of a local (me) who, along with his neighbors and scores of others, just want to see 9th & Main do and be something that we can come to rely on. We don't care about the in-fighting, the bickering, the gossip or the mudflinging. We just want to be able to enjoy all that 9th & Main has to offer.

After getting the quicky background on what has been the last six months of Tory's life, I realized it was well worth it to make further inquiries into Tory's attempts to do what no one else has been able to do since the days of Henrietta's.

So I met with Tory a week ago to hear the pitch, to be wooed, convinced, awed, whatever. Like I said, I was approaching this with a level cynicism that could not be placated by mere words.

Tory definitely had his approach ready. He'd thought it through. He knew exactly what he wanted to tell me as if he were reading from a memorized script. In fact, I later learned that he had posted the exact same sentiment of energy and hope on jaxoutloud in an attempt to reach out to all those he could to express and explain the "new" 9th & Main and how its future can amount to nothing but success.

I left my conversation with Tory knowing that I'd write something eventually. But I didn't want to write a repeat of what he'd told me and the whole jaxoutloud community. It wasn't enough to add that the kaoroke crowd present that night in the bar area was clearly faithful evidence of a newish local tradition.

So I went back the next night with a friend. It was a benefit with (I think) five bands scheduled. I looked around, played some ping pong, and got a sense of communal enjoyment and relaxation. When I left that night, I felt sure I'd be back one day very soon.

It turned out the "one day soon" was the next night for dinner. Okay, so there was no live performance. But the kids were having a blast, my daughter proving that she's only years away from mastering Miss Pac Man and billiards. The food was just as I remembered it, Tory having made a pledge to return to the days of the simple, inexpensive menu (and the well drinks for happy hour were only $2.25!).

I was feeling better. Tory's words were manifesting in my mind from talk to reality. What was there to do but return yet again the following night, with more friends in tow, to celebrate the passing of my youth as I turned 39? Another great night was had as hundreds of people filled the restaurant, the bar and the music hall for a Mass Appeal celebration and poetry jam.

In a word or two, Tory has a passion about what he's doing and about the survival of 9th & Main. He has a seriousness about the food, the atmosphere, the mindset and the vision that could put this establishment back on the social map. He's reaching out to the neighborhood (having put his money where his bed is by taking up residence in Springfield) and made it to last week's SPAR meeting to make his pitch.

To conclude, in my continued, albeit waning, cynicism, I'd rather make the cliche analogy that 9th & Main is the mountain to Tory's Sisyphus than that the "new" 9th & Main is the phoenix springing forth from the ashes of a failed past. (Tory tells me that the wings in the logo represent Icarus' wings reattached with tape, so take whatever analogy from that as you wish.) However, unlike the eternal misery that Sisyphys faced, Tory (and everyone working endlessly to see 9th & Main succeed, including band booker Dan Blanchard) may actually be able to get that rock over the mountain.