I first met Beaux Miller in 1996 at Fenian’s. How he struck me there behind the bar, pouring, smoking, chuckling, angry one minute, ebullient the next, gathering a customer in for a joke, a bracelet jangling against a poised bottle of Beam, a plaque with his name on the wall: not Bo, as in a pet or frat brother, but BEAUX, an event.
