Few neighborhood bars in Baltimore have a follow-ing as loyal as that of the Dizz (nee Dizzy Issie's.) Poke around on a given night and you'll find everyone from twentysomething hipsters to Johns Hopkins kids to Remington old-timers, all of whom would arm themselves and defend the cozy corner spot to the last drop if called upon. So, you could about cut the bummed vibe with a knife when Dizzy Issie's locked its doors earlier in the summer, future uncertain. Well, just in time for cold drinking weather, it reopened as the Dizz. We agree with just about everyone who's commented on it so far: The new name sucks, and we'll keep calling it Dizzy Issie's, thankyouverymuch. But, rest assured, not much else has changed. There are some new tchotchkes on the walls, the funky lights in the front bar area may not have been there before, and a new finish on the floor brightens the place up. Nothing different enough to get upset over. The menu appears to be about the same, too--half handwritten and full of above-average bar/comfort food (price and quality). At $10, the big bowl of steamed mussels (still excellent) is somewhat of a bargain, but crab-coated potato skins were nothing special and a little overpriced at $13. There's nothing mind-blowing about the bar itself, but it isn't the drinks that bring you in here. Dizzy Issie's succeeds because it's mastered the art of familiarity, from the warm space to the warm servers to something we can't put our finger on. Walking in here for the first time feels much the same as it does the 20th. And that's something special.