I'm hugely saddened to learn of the possible impending demise of the storied P&G Bar on the Upper West Side (I gleaned this sad rumor via Jeremiah Moss' endearingly authoritative Vanishing New York). I logged many a beer-sotten evening in said institution's Bavarian-landscape-painted walls in the late 80s and 90's. It was also the watering hole of choice for the woman who became my wife, a former Londoner-turned-Upper West Sider. Many of our first dates were spent at the P&G (the neon sign also seems to say "Peg" -- my wife's name -- if you drunkenly squint at it the right way). Its departure will be yet another nail in the coffin of Manhattan's character.