Update: raincoaster has discovered that the following is an Urban Legend. See the comments section for an update from Sean Heather, and stand by for a new post with the true story. Live and learn; thus are myths born.
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
I know a little bit about Sean Heather.
And I know a little bit about Fireman.
And I say it was 50/50. But what do I know?
There's a big painting hanging on the wall of the Irish Heather, a big whopper of a canvas with a lively depiction of the staff, the owners and a great many of the regulars, all much bigger and grinnier than in the life, but then that is how Fireman paints them.
Now, guess what Fireman does for a dayjob. Right the first time! But when he is not climbing ladders to rescue kitties or hauling hose to quench flames he is a painter and caricaturiste extraordinaire, vraiment, and in the true artistic tradition he has been known to be just a bit…sensitive…sometimes. Not that that is bad, but I think we can all give thanks that he does not apply the same exquisite sense of discretion and inspiration to, say, answering a fire alarm as he does to, say, painting the staff, owners and regulars of a pub.
Now they say he did two of them, the big paintings. And they hung one up in the front of the bar, right where everyone could see it and say, gee your chin isn't nearly that pointy or other silky phrases, depending on if they knew she was married. What they did with the other does not matter, which is good, as I do not know.
But they did not pay very promptly, or not very well, or somehow not to the liking of the Fireman, he of the artistic temperament. Oh, can't you just see this coming?
One evening the place was in full swing. The walls can throb, it gets that busy, and it was, it was that busy, that night. And Fireman walks in. Without a word to anybody he walks over to the built-in seating along the wall, hops up on it (being not only artistic but also, apparently, flexible too) stares eye to eye with the image of Sean Heather in his very own painting. Then, keeping the stare going he takes a knife out of his pocket and slowly cuts the face out. He puts the knife back in his pocket. He puts the face in his pocket. He gets down. He walks out.
I believe the bill was settled shortly after that, and the second painting is the one you see.
raincoaster 
You have the wrong Fireman, the wrong painting and there never was a dispute.
Dave delivered the painting unfinished, 3 months late and with a 2ft sq hole in it’s center.
With the exception of a couple of hours before its unveiling, the painting did not hang in the Heather and still doesn’t.
Give me a call and I’ll tell you the whole story, it differs dramatically from your version and I can back up my story with facts.
Sean Heather.
Thanks Sean, always good to have the real story. I have added a note at the beginning of the entry, directing people to the Comments. And happy to post the real story once I have it, too. You need to tell the staff, because I got this story from one of them four years ago, and another fellow confirmed it. The mythology of the Heather is ever-expanding, isn't it?
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WORST PLACE IN VANCOUVER! NO atmosphere, RUDE service, LONG wait for food (35min+). Had a private room booked for a birthday party of 20 people. After four hours, some singing (no profanities) and over $1000 was spent the OWNER literally barged in and said “This is NOT A PUB. This is a restaurant. You can’t be loud!”. NO warning, NO diplomacy, NO decency. Needless to say we left right away with a sour taste in our mouths.
He just doesn’t like you: we blew a conch shell at out first meeting, shaking the windows and got nothing but cheers.