“Time comes and goes, but all the while
I still think of you
Some things last a long time
Your picture is still
On my wall, on my wall
The colours are bright
Bright as ever
The things we did, I can’t forget
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime”
Daniel Johnston / Jad Fair
My sometimes life affirming, sometimes life challenging philosophy of not saying ‘No’ to things led me this week to being interviewed on film out in Rossmore Park for an upcoming episode of ‘Mahon’s Way’, the longest running documentary series in Ireland featuring Joe Mahon’s rambles through little villages and hidden gems across the island. I’d met his irrepressible producer , Orlagh , a few weeks ago to walk around the Park and show her our Giants and tell a little about the great fun we have putting them together with equally great people, clubs, and schools.
The programme is shown in a half hour slot on UTV, a commercial station, which boils down to a 22.5 minute programme when the adverts are accommodated. My segment, or rather, the segment I feature in will probably be 2 or 3 minutes. To get that tiny bit involved a couple of hours filming with Joe, Orlagh , Billy on sound, and the ever patient Tony on camera and drone.
Each member of the crew was nicer than the next. Joe and I chatted as we walked along the river Muireann to where they wanted to film and he told me that when he started out making these films his goal was to film people as themselves in their own place, and not as specimens in a zoo, or curiosities, which is how lots of documentary makers seem to portray ordinary wonderful characters. He told me that he was once sent to speak to an old farmer who had lots of history and old lore about a certain place. They went to meet him and he was as magnificent a story teller as they’d been told. Joe’s producer was concerned at his appearance though. His shirt had seen better days, but not a washing machine. His trousers were held up with baling twine.
“Should we say something to him about his clothes for the filming ?” Joe’s producer asked.
“No, we’re here to record his story, as he wants to be.” Joe replied.
When they came back a few days later to record they asked if they could set up in the byre , which , for my cosmopolitan and Yankee readers , is an old cowshed, and he said he’d go in and wash his face. He came back out with Brylcreem in his hair and wearing the suit he’d possibly been married in, or his father had. This transformation coupled with the background of the byre was concerning the producer.
“I think this looks worse.”
“I think this is who he is and this is his place.” Joe replied.
I loved that.
We stopped at Muireann and her bridge. Cameras on tripods were set up, stills and film were recorded, we were told to be quiet by Billy as he recorded the river gurgling, and then Joe and I had to walk away and walk back. This took 15 minutes and will appear for 5 seconds on screen…if it makes it on screen.
We moved to Ailinn beside the Yew trees. This was Orlagh’s favourite Giant, so this was where we were due to film most of our piece. Joe ran through what he wanted me to talk about and stressed how important it was to keep things concise, we didn’t have time for detailed back stories or family histories…and having filmed in Monaghan the week before with renowned Monaghan raconteurs, Master Paddy Sherry, and Master Enda Galligan, he pleaded that we stick to one short story at a time, a discipline that no Monaghan person has ever mastered.
I told him that , as we were in among the Yew trees that I’d like to mention the connection between Frances Murray, former owner of Rossmore, and Marie Antoinette, and the Yew tree in Versaille. While we were setting up Joe told me about the difference between Irish and English Yew trees. And then we were ready.
On camera Joe asked me about one or two of the Giants, and I answered concisely, , or as concisely as I get, and then he asked if it was true that there was a connection between here and Versailles. I smiled and answered “Well, Joe, there is indeed. Here we are surrounded by …….” I gestured at the trees , struggling to think what they were called. They stopped filming. Orlagh though I was having a stroke. Joe asked if I was OK. I was mortified. I could only point at the trees and say “I can’t remember what they’re called !”.
“The Yew trees ?” Joe asked, puzzled.
“YES ! Yews !” I was relieved.
We filmed again.
“Cut !” There were people coming along the path behind us.
We filmed again.
“Cut !” Billy was getting the sound of an airplane overhead.
This carried on for some time as people passed us by. Then we had to stay where we were and the crew moved behind us to film different angle shots, then moved again to film back in front, but further away, then we had to walk away and walk back again as if we were just arriving.
It was great fun.
I think we were out there for 2 and a half hours. The segment I’m in will probably be 2 minutes, and of that most will be Joe talking over film of the Giants.
In our day to day lives we get one take. We don’t get to do it again , erase the mistake , repeat the scene until we get it right , or see it from three different angles at the same time , we just have to keep rolling.
There are definitely things in my life, actions I’ve taken, words that have been said, that I shouldn’t have, or wouldn’t have if I’d known the hurt that they caused. But it’s not a movie and I can’t go back. I can apologise, make amends, try to be better. And I do try. But at the same time all those mistakes are part of me now , and , when all is said and done, I quite like me. Took a while to get to this point.
Last night I drove to that Dublin to meet my friend Baz for dinner before we went to see the divine Lucy Dacus in concert in the Iveagh Gardens. Baz and I are comfy old friends and whenever we meet we simply carry on from where our last conversation ended. I arrive 15 minutes after I’m supposed to, as usual, and we wander down South William St. and sit at the same table in Saba that we sat in the last time. I have the least spicy item on the menu, Baz has the second least spicy thing and we have two bottles of non-alcoholic Asahai Super Dry. The meal is delicious.
It’s a short walk to the Iveagh Gardens, which is one of my favourite places for a concert. Baz goes to get us a beer and I do my bit for the struggling artists and buy a tee-shirt. While we’re chatting in the evening sunshine I see someone waving at me. It’s my cousin Fiona whom I haven’t seen since we had a great week together last year with all our families at her brother Cormac’s wedding in Salamanca. We introduce all of our friends, Aislinn, Cecelia, another Fiona, and Baz to each other and Fiona asks if I’ve bought a tee shirt yet. She tells everyone that I bought her her first band merch tee at her first gig in 1995, when oasis supported REM in Slane. Fiona only got to go because I promised Aunty Margaret that I’d ‘chaperone’ Fiona at the gig. I know ! Me ? Responsible for another human ? My very own Soulmate leaves one of our kids in charge whenever she goes anywhere.
Fiona recalls that we met in Slane , walked in together , I bought her two tees and then we both agreed that we were both very well behaved and would report same to our respective mothers, hugged and went off and enjoyed our day.
Last night we all had great fun together at a great concert. We all swapped stories of previous gigs and were surprised that lots of us attended the same ones independently of each other. Lucy Dacus is an understated angelic performer. The crowd loved her. When she sung quietly the crowd was silent, hanging on every word, and when she rocked out, the whole place rocked out with her. Fiona gave very enthusiastic “Woooooo !”s at the end of every song and then turned expectantly towards Baz and I and waited until we Wooooed as well. She’s a primary school teacher and knew how to handle us.
Lucy sang our favourites, ‘Hot & Heavy’, ‘Best Guess’, ‘Ankles’, and Soak came out to fill in for Hozier on ‘Bullseye’. She sang a cover version of Fontaine’s DC’s ‘Roy’s Tune’ and Springsteen’s ‘Dancing In The Dark’, and Boy Genius’ ‘True Blue’.
She finished it all with a raucous version of ‘Nightshift’. The crowd went wild, and no one was wilder than Fiona. My ears are still ringing from the WOOOOOOOO at the end of that one.
We all hugged and said Goodbye to new friends.
Last night was just a perfect first take.
Enjoy today’s show, there will be no repeats.
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. For my cousin Fiona , this is Lucy Dacus’ ‘Nightshift’ which will now always remind me of our luverly evening together.
