“Get outside, get all over the world
You learn to love what you get in return
It may be a problem, and it may be peace of mind
Put your head down, down and breathe one breath at a time, so…”
Gallucci / Maust / Willett / Aveiro
This week’s whatever this is will be short, but with a long P.S. , a link to longer than usual audio of an older one of these, and a link to a song video which features perhaps the most arresting choreography I’ve ever seen, and as someone who used to attend the disco in the Hillgrove every Saturday in the Eighties, I’ve seen a LOT of arresting choreography. The first 4 minutes of the video is ‘Storm I’ and not for the faint hearted, ‘Storm II’ starts around 4.19, and is mesmerising.
My week started on Monday with a wander around Mullan Village with Edel Treanor, chatting about future walkways, industrial heritage art installations, and angels.
On Tuesday we drove to Dún Lúiche in Donegal to attend the funeral of Tess, our dear departed friend Stephen’s mother-in-law. This is a Gaeltacht area and the mass was in Irish. I have a small grasp of Irish and vague recollections of what’s happening at what point in a mass, but this time I hadn’t a clue. During the priest’s entire homily all I could make out was 1973, the Virgin Mary, and Oliver Cromwell , and I’m dying to know what connects them. Afterwards at the wake, a friend of Tess , who had lived in Gweedore all of her life, and is an Irish speaker, said she couldn’t understand the priest either.
In the sandy graveyard , overlooking the sea, as the priest lead us though the final prayers a Sandmartin started to sing , hovering high above us, the song fading as it flew higher. It was a beautiful moment, and even the priest looked up.
At the meal in An Chuirt I sat with Maria, her son Oisin, Eileen’s sister, Catherine, and a friend of Maria’s. Oisin , while he was at school and college, always had a summer job in Tayto Park, and I said I’d never visited. Maria said in all the years he’d worked there , she’d never gone either, until his last day , when she , and her eldest son Cian decided it was now or never , and spent the day there.
“Did you get your Mum in as a VIP ?” I asked.
“He did not !” Maria replied.” Staff discount of 25% was all we got.”
I then told them that when we were kids my brothers and I must have been particularly moody, lazy, and ungrateful at some point because our Mum went out, and for the only time that we can remember, bought a single in Devine’s Record shop , came home and made us all sit in the good room and listen as she played it three times. It was Tammy Wynette’s ‘No Charge’.
I played it in the car later for Catherine and she howled. That evening I sent it to Naoise and a note :
“Play this for Oisin and tell him to stop charging your Mum into Tayto Park !”
Naosie messaged back that he’d played it in the bar they were in and was now getting funny looks from the locals.
When we were leaving the wake and did the rounds of hugs, I told each of Maria’s three boys that their Dad would have been very proud of them today. Naoise said “Thanks Paul, that means a lot.”
“Steady on.” I replied “ I said he was proud, not that I was , you still have work to do.” He laughed. I wasn’t joking. Saying our goodbyes to his partner Ezra, she commented that she hoped that it would be a happier occasion when we next met.
“Your wedding ?”
She also thought I was joking.
When we dropped Catherine home , she said , getting out of the car “Thanks for the lift, and the music, great playlist.”
Dear Reader, that may have been the nicest thing anyone has said to me in quite a while. I may even have shed a little tear.
But just a few hours later , our Good Glow buddy Teresa…
“Which Teresa ?”
Avril & Teresa, Teresa…or Spoony as she is affectionately known in our house.
Anyway, Teresa sent me a photo including this text :
A friend asked me what’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done ? I replied that its awfully bold of you to assume that I’ve peaked !”
She included this note :
“Is it shockingly awful that I thought of you straight away ?”
I love Teresa !
On Wednesday I went to Dublin to go for dinner and a gig with my friends Micky and his brother Paul. We’d had a choice of gigs, either Big Star Quartet , in the Button factory, or Big Thief in the Point. I only really loved one Big Star song, but they’re touring now as a supergroup with Mike Mills from REM, and Norman Blake from Teenage Fan Club, and I’ve always been a loyal and devout REM fan. But we’re of that age that one of us was insisting that he’d only go if there was a seat, so we ended up in The Point watching Big Thief.
Our conversation over dinner ranged from end of life preparations to Leeds United , which have more in common than it would superficially appear.
We had a great time at the gig, and afterwards , having hugged Paul goodbye, Micky and I went into town and decided to have a couple of pints in Bowe’s before we got the last Luas home. We were sitting at the bar enjoying our pints and each others company when…Mike Mills walked in and stood beside us, waiting to order. I stood up and shook his hand and said that I just wanted to say thanks for everything, and could we please buy him and his partner a drink and then we’d leave them alone. He said there was no need, but then I put out my lower lip and looked sad, so he said OK.
After we’d had another pint…and a Jameson, we got up to leave and Mike Mills raised his hand to say goodbye.
MIKE MILLS FROM REM RAISED HIS HAND TO SAY GOODBYE …TO ME !!!
We went over to shake his hand, and asked if it was a terrible intrusion if we got a photo.
“Not at all.” He said and got up to join us. We chatted for a minute or two about seeing them for the first time in 1985 in Croke Park where they were 4th on the bill, supporting U2, and then again in ’95 in Slane. He remembered both, and we said in ’85 in Croke Park we were the only ones who knew who they were and the only ones who danced to ‘Hyena’. Our friend Brendan Boylan had introduced us all to their music.
And then we left.
Outside we walked along Fleet St. in silence, swapping giddy smiles with each other, and then Micky spoke “Ah Bollix ! I left my bag on the bar !” and ran back.
And how was your week ?
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is Storm I & II, which are spectacular, like you .
P.P.S This is this week’s audio which features life lessons ….
P.P.P.S This is this week’s worky blog
Little Differences
For many years my brother Stephen and I travelled to Dusseldorf every March and September to attend the GDS, which was then the largest footwear trade fair in the world, attracting footwear manufacturers and distributors from everywhere, and over 80,00 visitors over the 4 days.
I’d say that there was a good 12 year stretch where we didn’t miss a single day of each fair. Hotel rooms were always at a premium and there was a scramble to get one at any price , until we landed in with Skechers and were able to piggy back on their group booking of 50 rooms in the Karl-Platz Raddisson SAS hotel , which was a mile from the trade fair, and a mile from the Alstadt, where there were more Irish pubs than there was in Monaghan. It was perfect !
It also had a sauna. And for 4 years , each time we checked in on arrival, Stephen would say, “I’m definitely using the sauna this time.”, but we would go to the show, entertain customers at the end if the day, fly back to the hotel, shower, change and then head out for dinner and more entertaining. Each morning we would scrape ourselves off the beds, shuffle down to breakfast and then rush back out to the fair.
In September 1999 , on the Friday of the fair weekend Stephen said , as we made our way back to the hotel , “I’m skipping the bar, and going for a sauna”. And that’s what he did. He went to his room and stripped off his suit, out on his best O’Neills football shorts, the hotel bathrobe and the free slipper things that were designed with Muppet feet in mind, and entering the lift, pressed the button marked ‘B – Sauna’.
He hung up his bathrobe and slipped off his slippers and opened the door to see three very naked people inside. To the left was a large scary hirsute German gentleman and to the right were two angelic Scandinavian ladies. Stephen thought “When in Dussedorf ….”. closed the door , whipped off his O’Neills football togs, took a deep breath, opened the door and nodded left and right , and sat in the middle, very content that he was now a true European. His now tog-less derrière had barely touched the wooden bench when the two angelic Scandinavian ladies got up and left. Stephen was now feeling much less European, and very much like a Monaghan man who uses three towels while changing at Holywood Lake, but decided it would be too shamefully obvious if he left immediately and started counting down from 60 before he too left and got back to the safety and security of his O’Neills football togs.
He’d got to 29 when the door of the sauna opened and an American lady, wearing a rather fetching Ocean Pacific one piece, looked in horror at Stephen and the large scary hirsute German gentleman, and said “Oh ! Sorry for interrupting.” and closed the door.
It’s the little differences that make the world go round.
Sometimes these differences seem to make no sense.
I’ve mentioned before that we always sent out a free pair of socks with every order, and nect to no one ever mentioned it. Some people returned them , thinking it was a mistake, and some people didn’t even notice them in the box and threw them out with the packaging. On one particularly busy day we ran out of socks and as all of our delivery stationary mentioned “Enjoy your free gift !”, we had to include something. I dashed into town and in desperation bought several party bags of Haribo containing tiny individual bags of 7 or 8 gummy Haribos, and we included one in each order.
The very next day we got two emails thanking us for the sweets.
Within a week, almost 50 people took the time to comment on our social media or send an email thanking us, saying it made them laugh, and some people sent us photos of them eating the Haribo.
As the months went on some customers started to send us sweets after they’d received their order.
The only complaint we ever got was an English lady who had bought boots as a present for her husband and hadn’t opened the parcel, but had left it out in her back yeard so her husband wouldn’t spot it when he came home. Their Husky shredded the box, and the left boot to get at the Haribo…it was the treat she used to train him.
The socks had been costing us £4 per pair, and had made no impact, despite being very good quality socks, and in keeping with the fact that our customers predominantly bought boots from us. We ended up buying the Haribo in bulk, directly from them, and in such quantities that they sent a representative to check what we were actually doing with them , as we were buying more than several retail chains. They were costing us 4 pence a packet, and made a huge difference to our customers and us.
In our shop, Monaghan’s 4th largest workwear store, we have a bucket of Haribo on the counter. Customers bring their kids with them and get a packet each, or two, depending on what football jersey they’re wearing…
If they’re not wearing anything at all, we call Stephen out to deal with them.
We’re all a bit different.
We think that’s cool.
Oh ! Almost forgot, we sell boots too….buy some boots !
