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Whatever happened to . . . ?

Do you remember an inn, Joe –
Our decently old-fashioned pub?
Before drinkers went out to binge, Joe;
No labels like gastro- or ‘grub’;
Where the walls had a nicotine tinge, Joe,
Each ash-tray’d a cigarette stub,
The door always creaked on its hinge, Joe,
But it flourished – our true social hub.

Then the brewers cleared out all the dinge, Joe,
To make it a young persons’ club.
Now the girls wear skirts short as a fringe, Joe
(Even those that are shaped like a tub)
Karaoke? – it’s making you cringe, Joe:
You gaze in your bitter, and blub,
Remembering the past: but don’t whinge, Joe
Cos it’s staying this way – that’s the rub.

D A Prince