“I thought it was
And I thought it well
And maybe even
Time could tell
That all I know and all I love, could
Fit into a little tiny box
And all of the world would laugh and lose their socks”
Wayne/Ellery
Yesterday I had lunch with an engaging young chap, 35, and as I talked he smiled wider and wider. He enjoyed hearing my stories, and I enjoyed his enjoyment of my stories. At one point he sat on my knee and together we tapped out the beat to the ‘Bare Necessities’ from Jungle Book on the table and I asked him if the table top was made out of soap, or cheese, or recycled hairdressers…
“PAUL ! Wake up !!”
I am awake, this wasn’t a dream. This happened yesterday. So, he laughed at my table question and then looking at my friend Ray, he picked up his phone and threw it on the floor.
“This guy is 35 ???”
Yes, 35 weeks old.
His name is Dannan, first born son of The Hannon, and already a great conversationalist. I was meeting Laura and Ray for a coffee in Fro & Co. to talk about this year’s Haunting in Rossmore Park, which is a story for another day. Meeting Dannan was a few moments of wonder and pure joy. Afterwards I thought that , thankfully, my life is a like a really long string or cable of Christmas tree lights, not one continuous line, more like , when you take the Christmas decorations down from the attic and with great trepidation , and before you unfurl the jumbled mess of cables , you plug in the Christmas tree lights to make sure they are working before you go to the bother of unfurling them , placing them carefully all around the tree, then putting on the decorations and then discovering that they don’t work and having to dismantle everything…which I did three years in a row before learning to plug them in and test them before even unfurling them. Anyway, my life is like that big ball of jumbled Christmas tree lights, plugged in, a series of meaningless lengths of cable dotted with bright lights.
Of course we couldn’t have the bright lights without the connecting cable.
This week, after the nervous thrill of presenting an update on the Drumlin Giants project to our local council, I had the pleasure of going to a gig in Dublin on Monday night. I went with Baz and Jono to see Black Country New Road play a soul enhancing set in the Olympia theatre. I knew only two of their songs before we went , neither of which they played, but I’m a firm fan now. So much so that I bought one of their fine and dandy tee shirts after the gig.
“Don’t you buy a tee shirt at every gig ?”
Well, yes, but sometimes without great enthusiasm. At one time I had an amazing collection of t-shirts from gigs since 1984 which can now be seen occasionally out and about in Dublin, Galway and Edinburgh, worn by our Wunder Monkees, Jake, Robyn, and Elliott. And sometimes by their partners, Sarah, Dundalk John, and Teresa.
While I got my tee from the merch stall, Barry queued to get our coats from the cloakroom. I waited for him outside, and looked as a homeless man with an empty coffee cup shuffled around the crowd asking for change. These days I rarely carry a wallet as I use my phone to tap for everything, but I had it with me and there was some money in it. I turned away to take it out of my pocket and found a fiver. I folded it tightly and when he came up to me popped it in his cup. He said thanks and shuffled on to the next group, then he stopped and looked into the cup, took out the fiver and put it in his pocket. He turned back and said “My name’s Derek, what’s your name ?”.
“Paul.” I answered.
He stuck out his hand and we shook, and he said “Nice to meet you Paul. Thanks.” And off he shuffled.
After the gig I drove out to the airport, had several coffees, and eventually, at 1.00 am, collected Robyn. We had a ‘midnight snack’ in the 24 hour McD’s and then chatted so animatedly in the car that we arrived home in the blink of an eye.
Sadly Robyn was home to join us attending the funeral of her friend Aoife’s Mum, Karen, which we went to on Tuesday morning. I’ve mentioned before that ,although I still pray regularly, and in the oldest , most traditional fashion possible , ( I say the Rosary while out running ), and I consider myself to be a spiritual person, organised religions leave me cold. Despite all that, Karen’s funeral was conducted by Fr.Humphrey in a charming, heartfelt, and genuinely Christian fashion that I haven’t experienced in a long time. This was enhanced by a wonderful organist and Joanna , the soloist, who is Karen’s sister-in-law , and an old college mate of my brothers , John and Stephen. There were a lot of muffled , smiling sobs, as she sang ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ at the end.
Afterwards I went home and had lunch with my Soulmate, packed a bag , and she kissed me goodbye as I headed back to Dublin for another gig. This time I met my best friend Micky, his brother Paul, and my friend Paula for dinner in Yamamori, ( Micky and I had a cheeky pint in the Grand Social on our way), then we walked over the Ha’penny Bridge, to join Baz, Jono and Karl at the Button Factory to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. An epic gig, with the best company. And no, before you ask, I didn’t buy a tee shirt…I bought a sweatshirt. I also have a large collection of sweatshirts…or , again, had, they too pop up in wonderful pl aces like Massimo’s in Galway, Teuchter’s Landing in Edinburgh, and , I’m ashamed to say, Spoonies , in Dublin.
Micky and I had another cheeky pint, or two, in Bowes on Fleet St. on the way home, where we talked about deep meaningful things and frivolous things in the same breath as all best friends do.
We had breakfast the next morning , hugged goodbye, and I drove back to Monaghan , pretended to work for a wee while, and then called into Mum and Dad’s for a cup of tea and a catch up.
Yesterday I met Ray out in Rossmore for a walk, we bumped into Francie McCarron, a walking bright Christmas light, who was out promoting his Drumlin Yarn Spinners events. We walked along the river Muireann, complimenting David from Coillte on the great clean up under way after this years storms, and getting his help with fallen timber and site work for our next two Giants. Then we chatted to Tom in the CoffeeDoc and went into town to meet The Hannon, and Dannan.
The cable of my life this week has been interspersed with the bright lights of music, friends, good food, great company, pure joy, and a new tee.
Not too bad for an old unfurled jumble of Christmas tree lights.
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is for all the bright lights, Black Country New Road’s ‘Socks’
P.P.S And this is the link to this week’s old audio blog.
