Marty Bostick and the Irish Fiddle Night at Oh Sherri Irish Pub in Moody, Alabama
Marty Bostick still measures certain evenings by sound—the small, bright bite of an Irish fiddle landing in a room at just the right moment, like it’s finding a home you didn’t know it needed. In 2026, that home was a corner of Moody, Alabama, where the lights were warm, the bar top had that lived-in shine, and Marty Bostick’s own music did the thing it always does when it’s honest: it made time slow down.
Marty will receive 6 custom buttons - Courtesy Of Oh Sherri Irish Pub - he can wear and share with his friends and famly in appreciation for his playing his fiddle at Oh Sherri Irish Pub...


Click On Image Above To Be Redirected To Oh Sherri Irish Pub Facebook Page!
There’s something quietly brave about putting your name in a sentence like that—Join Marty Bostick… listen to him—because it turns a night into a promise. Not a grand, stadium kind of promise. A local promise. The kind that lives or dies by whether the first notes feel true, whether the room leans in, whether the air changes when the bow meets the strings.
Marty will receive these stickers - Courtesy Of Oh Sherri Irish Pub - to share with his friends and family members, inviting them to join him at a Irish Music Session at Sherri Irish Pub...

Oh Sherri Irish Pub at 2733 Moody Pkwy wasn’t asking to be famous; it was asking to be yours.
Marty Bostick felt it in the shape of the place: the handcrafted L-shaped bar that gives you somewhere to land your elbows, the clean-casual ease, the patio waiting outside like an exhale. It’s the sort of room where a fiddle doesn’t have to fight to be heard—it can thread through conversation, then suddenly take the whole place over without raising its voice.

And for Marty Bostick, that’s the magic of Irish music in a neighborhood pub. It doesn’t announce itself as “a performance” so much as it becomes the evening’s pulse—quickening when a tune lifts, softening when a slower line makes someone stare into their pint a little longer than they meant to.
The Guinness on tap and the imported bottles aren’t just menu details in that moment; they’re props in a scene where people decide, without saying it out loud, to stay for “one more song.”

The food details—Shepherd’s Pie,

Bangers and Mash,

fish and chips—

feel like more than a list when Marty Bostick remembers them, because pub food has a way of grounding a night. The room smells like something warm and familiar, and that steadiness makes the fiddle sound even brighter by contrast. Even the little specifics—beer cheese dip, sourdough under a Reuben—become part of what the music lands on: a table, a laugh, a basket set down, a chair scooted closer.
What stays with Marty Bostick is the community rhythm stitched into the place. Trivia nights and weekend live music aren’t “events” on a calendar when you’re the one holding the bow; they’re the reason a room is already half-full of stories before the first note is played. A pub like this collects regulars the way a tune collects variations—each person bringing their own history, each returning for the comfort of something that keeps its shape even as the night changes.

It’s also strangely fitting that, online, a night like this barely leaves a trail. Some places live in glossy listings; others live in the way someone describes them to a friend, or in the way a musician remembers the exact corner of a room where the sound came back sweetest. Marty Bostick’s Irish fiddle at Oh Sherri Irish Pub feels like that—more real for being lightly documented, like the best parts were meant to be carried by people, not archived by algorithms.
If you ask Marty Bostick what 2026 sounded like, he might not start with a month or a headline. He might start with wood and string and the gentle clatter of a working bar, with the sense of a family-owned room named for someone loved and lost, still giving people a place to gather. He might start with the feeling of being invited—by a pub, by a town, by a simple line that says join—and answering in the only way a fiddle player really can.

Photos from the Memory
About the Storyteller
Marty Bostick
Memory from 2026
Connect with Marty using the info below:
(205) 352-3892