I had the pleasure of showing some friends from Ireland around D.C. this week. It's something I never tire of and it really does recharge the batteries in a manner of speaking. I've been in this region for 15 years now and I still get a kick out of taking visitors right up to the gates of the White House or having them touch the Moon rock at the Air and Space museum. I find myself getting caught up in their enthusiasm and developing my own warm fuzzy feelings for Washington D.C.
In a way I'm kind of cheating. There is so much to see and do in this town (much of it free) that it's hard to 'see it all' and even the most indifferent guide cannot help but do a good job. I am not an indifferent guide.
Want to see the steps from "The Exorcist"?
Want to have jets give you a haircut at Gravelly Point?
Want some M&Ms from Air Force One?
Want to find the Irishmen (3 from Limerick)and the lone Irishwoman on the Vietnam Veteran's memorial?
Want to see cherry blossoms without the tourist hordes?
Want to know why the streets go from 'I' to 'K'?
Want a 'safe conduct' pass for DuPont Circle?
Want to bounce a football off the Washington Monument?
Then I'm your woman.
As long as you can view the Lincoln Memorial by yourself while I wait for you by the reflecting pool.
You see back in the Long Ago I thought that would be a splendid place to ask Herself to marry me. Something about having 'Honest Abe' looking down at us as I popped the question really appealed to me. I was hoping for inspiration and not to start a civil war.
It's been a long time since that night and I've not darkened the door of the place since. I pass within spitting distance twice a day and it serves as a constant reminder of promises I made and went on to break. Whether or not they were made in good faith is irrelevant.
I go there quite often and sit on the bench closest to it. One day I might forgive myself enough to come with you.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
"I'll Be Your Sub -Sti-Tute!!!"
I was very bold last night.
He loves her for many reasons.
I love her for different ones.
He was lonely and cold last night.
She wasn't in town.
I was.
There wasn't much sleep*had after he joined me in my bed. Breakfast was a subdued affair this morning with much nodding off in the cornflakes. He's not much of a conversationalist to begin with so it's not like I was missing much by letting him doze. It gave me time for a pot of tea and a think.
No getting around the fact I did a bad thing.
*Nessan is the squirmiest kid in the world and is a tormenting bollocks to have in the bed. At one point he had his big toe in my ear. He needs to stay in his own bed.
He loves her for many reasons.
I love her for different ones.
He was lonely and cold last night.
She wasn't in town.
I was.
There wasn't much sleep*had after he joined me in my bed. Breakfast was a subdued affair this morning with much nodding off in the cornflakes. He's not much of a conversationalist to begin with so it's not like I was missing much by letting him doze. It gave me time for a pot of tea and a think.
No getting around the fact I did a bad thing.
*Nessan is the squirmiest kid in the world and is a tormenting bollocks to have in the bed. At one point he had his big toe in my ear. He needs to stay in his own bed.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
"It'll Say Harlem But Don't Let That Put You Off" Part 2
Finnian and I had staked out a great spot at the rear of the ferry for the quick trip out to Liberty Island. As we pulled away from Battery Park we were able to see more of Manhattan and it became clear to me (again!)why the locals choose to look at that rather than forward to the Statue of Liberty. It's one of your more impressive cityscapes.
The sun was shining but it was still very cold on the water and we soon had more of the railing to ourselves. Everyone else from our group had made their way inside and I asked Finn if he wanted to join them.
"No, I'd like to stay out here."
I smiled,took his hand in mine and together we looked at New York in silence. Both of us wrapped in our thoughts and hopes. Not for the first time I'm struck at how alike Finn and I are. I wouldn't have gone inside either and that dogged,persistent streak is a trait we both have in abundance. I return to my reverie and find myself wondering what it must have been like to enter this harbour on an immigrant ship bound for a new life in the New World. It's not too much of a leap from that to my own,more recent,journey.
Jenny Boylan has likened transition to the emigration experience and she's spot on. You leave behind all that you know and love and embark on an uncertain adventure. Loss is all but assured and there's no guarantee you'll even survive the voyage. When/if you arrive on the other side you find you are not entirely trusted. Even though you speak the language your accent marks you as 'other'. You feel like your loyalty to your new country is being tested all the time. You want to be here more than anything but it takes time to assimilate. There is an Ellis Island for all of us and there we are tested and probed,categorized and processed and sometimes given new names. Our old clothes are burned and our bodies purged. We are quarantined and hospitalised. Those judged to be deficient are sent away. Sometimes back to their homeland that now despises and fears them.
If you are lucky you are allowed entry and eventual acceptance. With the passage of time and the healing of hearts some of the losses may be recovered. One day you realise that you look,sound and dress like a native and no-one in your new life could guess at your origins. Eventually you take the oath and are sworn in as a full citizen of your new land.
That's what it's like alright. Yet even that has an endpoint. There comes a time when all the paperwork is complete and there is nothing left to say. The struggles of the past should not be forgotten but they should not define who you are. History becomes Herstory and the future begins today. These are the thoughts that run through my mind when I disembark with my family on Liberty Island.
Millions of immigrants began their lives in America gazing at that very same statue. I was starting again too.
The sun was shining but it was still very cold on the water and we soon had more of the railing to ourselves. Everyone else from our group had made their way inside and I asked Finn if he wanted to join them.
"No, I'd like to stay out here."
I smiled,took his hand in mine and together we looked at New York in silence. Both of us wrapped in our thoughts and hopes. Not for the first time I'm struck at how alike Finn and I are. I wouldn't have gone inside either and that dogged,persistent streak is a trait we both have in abundance. I return to my reverie and find myself wondering what it must have been like to enter this harbour on an immigrant ship bound for a new life in the New World. It's not too much of a leap from that to my own,more recent,journey.
Jenny Boylan has likened transition to the emigration experience and she's spot on. You leave behind all that you know and love and embark on an uncertain adventure. Loss is all but assured and there's no guarantee you'll even survive the voyage. When/if you arrive on the other side you find you are not entirely trusted. Even though you speak the language your accent marks you as 'other'. You feel like your loyalty to your new country is being tested all the time. You want to be here more than anything but it takes time to assimilate. There is an Ellis Island for all of us and there we are tested and probed,categorized and processed and sometimes given new names. Our old clothes are burned and our bodies purged. We are quarantined and hospitalised. Those judged to be deficient are sent away. Sometimes back to their homeland that now despises and fears them.
If you are lucky you are allowed entry and eventual acceptance. With the passage of time and the healing of hearts some of the losses may be recovered. One day you realise that you look,sound and dress like a native and no-one in your new life could guess at your origins. Eventually you take the oath and are sworn in as a full citizen of your new land.
That's what it's like alright. Yet even that has an endpoint. There comes a time when all the paperwork is complete and there is nothing left to say. The struggles of the past should not be forgotten but they should not define who you are. History becomes Herstory and the future begins today. These are the thoughts that run through my mind when I disembark with my family on Liberty Island.
Millions of immigrants began their lives in America gazing at that very same statue. I was starting again too.
Monday, March 23, 2009
"It'll Say Harlem But Don't Let That Put You Off"
So last week went very well.
St.Patrick's day at Finn's went very well. Who knew that digestive biscuits and maps would be big hits with the kindergarten set? I had a Smithwick's (singular) with Herself over lunch to be sociable and went to bed. Sleeping through the rest of that day makes a whole lot of sense.
Friday saw us roll on up to New York in the Big Green Monster. We slowly rolled through the Holland Tunnel to the strains of Honky Tonk Woman and Declan joins in with Mick for
"I laid a divorcee in New York City,"
We congratulated the wee man on his listening skills.
Normally being stuck in Manhattan traffic isn't too much fun but the Suburban gave us a fine viewing platform for the Human safari park that is 34th St. I never get tired of that city..utterly enraged from time to time but never tired. I ask Herself if she ever thought about living there and she gave me that look. I imagine it's the same one Marge gives Homer every time he comes up with another mental scheme. I often thought about living there but I had ruled it out for the same reasons I had ruled out Limerick. The family (asshat branch) has a long reach and N.Y.C. was definitely in their sphere of influence. Much like it is for a lot of Irish people.
Herself is a superb city driver and before long we arrive at our secret base of operations for the week-end. Our hosts are just brilliant (as usual ...Mad thanks C,E and S), put us up in fine style and ply us with home made mead. It was,in all honesty, the finest beverage I have ever put my lips to. No word of a lie. The next thing I know it's Saturday and somehow I'm en route to our first stop of the day The Chip Shop in Brooklyn for a feed. It's here that Herself performs the first of her parking miracles and scores some Kojak parking for a fecking Suburban!!
Once fed ( another minor miracle was getting a table for 8) we nipped back over to Manhattan and Battery Park for the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. Now I'm not a New Yorker. I'm not even a wannabe but they say that you can always tell the tourists from the locals on the boat. Newbies are all looking forward to Liberty Island while the natives look back at the city. Their city. Finn and I joined them there and we must have been convincing enough because I was asked for directions. Taking another liberty I gave them.
To be continued
Friday, March 20, 2009
But Is It Art?
Monday, March 16, 2009
Adaptation
I bounce into the kitchen to find three smallies clambering into their seats at the table.
"Who wants some breakfast?" I roar with hang-over free glee.
"Weeeeeeeee Dooooooooooo!!!" they roar back.
" Eggs?"
"Yippeeee!"
"Toast?"
"Yaaay!"
"Oatmeal?"
"Paddeee Oatmeeeeeal !Paddeee Oatmeeeeal !"
Breakfast in our house is not for the timid or those of nervous disposition. It's a lot of fun though.
"Finnian! Declan! Nessan!" I bellow.
"Are we human? " I ask with the smile cracking my faux-stern mask.
"Or are we....???" I only have to wait for a heartbeat.
"DINOSAURS!!"
"Who wants some breakfast?" I roar with hang-over free glee.
"Weeeeeeeee Dooooooooooo!!!" they roar back.
" Eggs?"
"Yippeeee!"
"Toast?"
"Yaaay!"
"Oatmeal?"
"Paddeee Oatmeeeeeal !Paddeee Oatmeeeeal !"
Breakfast in our house is not for the timid or those of nervous disposition. It's a lot of fun though.
"Finnian! Declan! Nessan!" I bellow.
"Are we human? " I ask with the smile cracking my faux-stern mask.
"Or are we....???" I only have to wait for a heartbeat.
"DINOSAURS!!"
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Tokenism?
I see the annual corned beef and cabbage orgy is getting under way in Irish-America. This sort of carry on. Don't get me wrong now. I quite like Filter,Guinness and eggs and ordinarily would not have a problem with any of this. I just get a bit mumpy in the run-up to St.Patrick's day with the cringe inducing fuck acting and "Sure an' begorrah" imbecility that runs rampant here at this time of year.
Apparently we (I mean the Irish 'we') are so easy -going we don't mind having our accents mimicked,assumptions made about our sobriety and our willingness to engage in casual fistfights. I've been asked about all three in the last 24 hrs. Maybe it's a symptom of my advancing dotage that I find this stuff increasingly irritating. Maybe not. I recall getting highly pissed when a bookstore employee thought it would be a hoot to imitate my accent at a Frank McCourt book signing over 10 years ago. Would she have done the same if I were Indian? French? Chinese maybe? Like fuck she would.
So when Finn's teacher asked if I would come in and do a little presentation on Ireland next week I jumped at the chance. But wait! This is a kindergarten class. Did she promise them Leprechauns or something? I mean I hadn't planned to hammer home the injustices of the current kleptocracy and financial collapse to a bunch of 5 year olds but we sure as shit won't be doing Riverdance either. Thankfully Finn's teacher is a clued-up young woman and sent home a note with some suggestions for the presentation. Not a bit of plastic paddywhackery was listed. I had jumped to a conclusion and done the very thing I am quick to jump on in others.
Next Tuesday then I'll be talking to a class full of smallies in the foothills of Appalachia. It'll be fun and lively. There'll be music,storytelling,maps and photos. I'll teach them how to count to ten in Irish and the classic "An bfhuil cead agam*.... " I'll baffle them with old money,Euros and school jumpers. I'll befuddle them with a hurley and a rugby ball and I'll show them a flag or two. I'll tell them of my home and of Finn's heritage and we'll all nibble on Club Goldgrains. I'll drink tea with the teachers and send each child home with a coin with a harp on it.
I'll be Super Paddy.
* Literally "Is there permission upon me to..."
Apparently we (I mean the Irish 'we') are so easy -going we don't mind having our accents mimicked,assumptions made about our sobriety and our willingness to engage in casual fistfights. I've been asked about all three in the last 24 hrs. Maybe it's a symptom of my advancing dotage that I find this stuff increasingly irritating. Maybe not. I recall getting highly pissed when a bookstore employee thought it would be a hoot to imitate my accent at a Frank McCourt book signing over 10 years ago. Would she have done the same if I were Indian? French? Chinese maybe? Like fuck she would.
So when Finn's teacher asked if I would come in and do a little presentation on Ireland next week I jumped at the chance. But wait! This is a kindergarten class. Did she promise them Leprechauns or something? I mean I hadn't planned to hammer home the injustices of the current kleptocracy and financial collapse to a bunch of 5 year olds but we sure as shit won't be doing Riverdance either. Thankfully Finn's teacher is a clued-up young woman and sent home a note with some suggestions for the presentation. Not a bit of plastic paddywhackery was listed. I had jumped to a conclusion and done the very thing I am quick to jump on in others.
Next Tuesday then I'll be talking to a class full of smallies in the foothills of Appalachia. It'll be fun and lively. There'll be music,storytelling,maps and photos. I'll teach them how to count to ten in Irish and the classic "An bfhuil cead agam*.... " I'll baffle them with old money,Euros and school jumpers. I'll befuddle them with a hurley and a rugby ball and I'll show them a flag or two. I'll tell them of my home and of Finn's heritage and we'll all nibble on Club Goldgrains. I'll drink tea with the teachers and send each child home with a coin with a harp on it.
I'll be Super Paddy.
* Literally "Is there permission upon me to..."
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Speaking Of Good Music.....
The Scribe and The Basque brought me along to the 9:30 Club tonight to see the lovely Lisa Hannigan and her rather fine band.
I can't find enough superlatives to describe the experience.I'll just leave it at "Brilliant".
She's on Colbert tomorrow. A must see.
I'd have photos if the security folks at the venue hadn't deemed my camera "Professional Equipment". A bit of a pain in the hole but not enough to put a dent in a beautiful night.
The Low Anthem opened for her tonight and are well worth a look too.Darwin...I'm looking at you in particular....to take a look like.
*Sigh* I wish you could see the smile on my face.
Friday, March 06, 2009
One For The Road
One For The Road:
A Road Records Benefit & Celebration Saturday March 14th, 2009 Andrew’s Lane Theatre,Dublin. 8.00pm – 2.30am Doors 7.30PM sharp €20 + booking fee.Tickets From Road Records, Tower Records, http://www.tickets.ie/ & WAV box office 1890 200 078
Featuring:
Jape
The Jimmy Cake
Si Schroeder
Colm Mac Con Iomaire
Adrian Crowley
The Large Corporation (Dudley Corporation Vs Large Mound)
Road Records DJs
On January 15th 2009 Road Records of Fade Street in Dublin City announced that it would soon be closing its doors. Over the last 11 years Road Records has been a passionate torch-bearer for the spirit of independent music in Ireland. In Dave, Julie & Dylan you had some of the friendliest, most knowledgeable and helpful folk you could ever hope to introduce you to new music and the imminent loss of Road Records will be felt acutely by musicians and punters alike.
To celebrate the legacy of Road Records and to help towards the debts incurred by Dave & Julie in keeping the shop open during hard times there will be in Andrew’s Lane on March 14th a wonderful array of live music from some the brightest lights in independent Irish music. This is a clarion call for supporters of independent music to show solidarity with one of its great Irish institutions and to collectively ensure that those independent retailers that still remain get the support they badly need to survive and to show that personality, variety & soul so perfectly embodied by Road are not outmoded retail concepts.
Good cause
Good tunes
Good people
A Road Records Benefit & Celebration Saturday March 14th, 2009 Andrew’s Lane Theatre,Dublin. 8.00pm – 2.30am Doors 7.30PM sharp €20 + booking fee.Tickets From Road Records, Tower Records, http://www.tickets.ie/ & WAV box office 1890 200 078
Featuring:
Jape
The Jimmy Cake
Si Schroeder
Colm Mac Con Iomaire
Adrian Crowley
The Large Corporation (Dudley Corporation Vs Large Mound)
Road Records DJs
On January 15th 2009 Road Records of Fade Street in Dublin City announced that it would soon be closing its doors. Over the last 11 years Road Records has been a passionate torch-bearer for the spirit of independent music in Ireland. In Dave, Julie & Dylan you had some of the friendliest, most knowledgeable and helpful folk you could ever hope to introduce you to new music and the imminent loss of Road Records will be felt acutely by musicians and punters alike.
To celebrate the legacy of Road Records and to help towards the debts incurred by Dave & Julie in keeping the shop open during hard times there will be in Andrew’s Lane on March 14th a wonderful array of live music from some the brightest lights in independent Irish music. This is a clarion call for supporters of independent music to show solidarity with one of its great Irish institutions and to collectively ensure that those independent retailers that still remain get the support they badly need to survive and to show that personality, variety & soul so perfectly embodied by Road are not outmoded retail concepts.
Good cause
Good tunes
Good people
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