“Light a candle, light a votive
Step down, step down
Watch a heel crush, crush
Uh oh, this means no fear; cavalier
Renegade and steer clear!
A tournament, a tournament
A tournament of lies
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives
And I decline”
Buck, Mills, Stipe, Berry
One of my many , many flaws is committing to things That I have no business committing to. My Soulmate, her twin sister , Germolene, and her brother Gareth are all in training for the Dublin City Marathon. I am not in training for the Dublin City Marathon, and yet , there I was last Sunday , getting up, sober, at the ungodly hour of 6.15am to drive with them to Larne to take part in a half marathon, which suited their training programme for the full marathon which I am not doing. I may have mentioned several times on the drive up to them that I didn’t know why I was even here.
“Becuae you were stupid enough to write in your blog that life was too short to refuse any invitation. So I invited you to join us.” Gareth said with that wide , and very annoying , smile of his.
We got up there in what seemed like a ridiculously early time, until we saw the length of the queues for the toilets. The Larne half marathon, otherwise known as the Antrim Coast Half Marathon, is surprisingly popular, with almost 7 thousand people taking part. One of the reasons for its popularity is that it is a rather flat course and lends itself to fast times. This didn’t apply to me of course. How could I possibly take in the scenary, identify flowers, thank all of the stewards, high five all of the kids along the route, and clap appreciation for the bands that turn out and play along the route, if I was concentrating on running fast ???
Honestly, some people are really missing out, as they scoot along at the limit of their abilities, panting ad fretting about pace and what not. How many flowers they did identify enroute ?
While we made our way to the starting line we bumped into Micheal McCarron, one of the nicest MTR members. He enquired after my Mum and Dad and asked that I pass on his regards to them. The consummate gentleman as always.
While waiting at the start I spotted Andi Jarvis, an otherwise lovely man, hampered in life only by his erroneous affection for Nordy Tayto. As luck would have it , he was with two friends and I subtly brought this matter up and both of his friends, good looking, tall, honest men, said that I was correct, Free State cheese and onion Tayto is superior in taste and appearance and attitude to its Nordy cousin. Andi also embarrassed himself by getting a PB…but not correctly identifying any flowers at all.
During the race , after my initial giddiness, my Soulmate and Ger disappeared prancingly ober the horizon. I encouraged Gareth to join them, but he said it was much more fun to stay with me, run backwards and still be ahead of me, despite repeatedly laughing at my pained expressions. I have a new found belief in Karma, as Gareth was the only one who checked in a bag, and at the end of the race it was in the opposite direction to where we’d parked and at the top of a very steep hill.
A few days before the race I’d spotted on FB that a girl who had been at school with our Robyn, Ciara Sherry, was also due to run in the half marathon, raising funds for children with congenital heart disease. Ciara had four open heart surgeries before the age of four and was running the half marathon , a 21k distance, for 21 years since her last operation. Her Dad, Cormac had mentioned that she had taken part in the Monaghan 10 Miler a few weeks ago and had finished just ahead of Ray and I. So, in my naivety, I thought that she would be behind i=us at the start, but that we’d spot her at some point and run in with her. We didn’t see her and I worried that something had happened , as this was her first half marathon. When Gareth and I finished , we were greeted warmly by Ger, and with relief by Eileen. I said we hadn’t seen Ciara at all and hoped she was OK.
“She’s over there. She finished ahead of all of us.”
We went and congratulated her, and I told her I’d have had a PB if I hadn’t been so worried about her.
She raised over €10,000 for her two charities and is a true life legend.
At home that evening we had a celebratory dinner with Gareth , Angie, Ger, Melby, Elliott, and Eileen. I slept well.
On Monday I ran around like a blue arsed fly trying to tidy up anything else I’d committed to for the week before I headed to Stradbally on Tuesday to help Benny and Mark set up Brutopolis State and the Metro for Electric Picnic.
Electric Picnic is Ireland’s Glastonbury. A four day music festival , with some, talks, comedy, art and a circus thrown in for good measure. It has become an annual pilgrimage for me. I find the music truly uplifting, and helping out very humbling indeed. When I arrived on Tuesday afternoon stage construction was still underway. I was assigned to Paddy to offerassistance. Paddy is a very patient man. Our main task over Ti=uesday and Wednesday was to construct a wall between to other parts of the stage area to hide the backs of other features, such as the Turf Reactor, or the Turnip Analyser. The wall contained elevator doors that didn’t open, and a secret door that did…eventually. Have worked out which panels we’d use, and screwed them together, my first task was to get a 16’, four 10’s , and four butts. I headed off, and once I was sure Paddy wasn’t looking, I asked Benny what these mysterious things were and where they were. I was directed towards what I would have called scaffolding. My lack of a tape measure hampered my assessment of what tubes were which, but we muddled through. I was also entrusted to put a brackety thing on one of them. Again I fumbled about with it, with my back to Paddy, and then when he was called away, studied what he’d done and tried to do the same.
By the second day I was allowed to use Paddy’s drill and a bandsaw. At least I think it was a bandsaw. But I wasn’t allowed use the angle grinder…which was probably for the best.
Above our wall was the back end of a 40’ trailer and Paddy wanted me to construct a small extension to the wall out of plywood a nd then attach batons to the trailer, covering the door hinges. Several things were mentioned such as ‘3×2’, ply, 50s, 80’s, galvoband , which I heard as Gammon Ham , the first time, drill bits, and other things. I asked Paddy to run through it again.
“Which part ?”
“Oh, all of it.”
He laughed , thinking I was joking and walked away to perform some form witchcraft using harnesses, hoists, and many other wonderful things.
I went over to new Mark, not Original Mark, and pointed to the section that Paddy had wanted covered and asked him what he’d suggest to cover it up. He more or less repeated what Mark had said, and when I asked if he had any of the things that he had just mentioned he went and got them and laid them all out for me. Then he showed me how to use the drill without blunting the drill bits.
Towards the end of our build, Paddy casually asked me to pass up to him two pieces of wood fashioned together in an L-shape, which was the length of a Ford Transit van. He said it so casually., but to me it was as if Superman had said to some passing stranger, “Pass me that train”. He was at the top of a ladder and wanted this piece to cover the pipes at the top of our wall. I looked at it in horror. At home my Soulmate opens jars for me. I managed to lift it off the ground to a height somewhere between my ankle and my knee…but much closer to my ankle. Thankfully a random young man from the building trade was passing and he offered to give me a hand. He then lifted it on his own up to Mark.
Paddy did say that I was very good at finding the right sized bits of ply. Proud day for the parish.
On Thursday the festival opens it’s gates to around 20,00 people who have paid for early entry. None of the main stages are open, but all of the smaller venues in the woods open from 7pm until midnight. I went to see Meabh & Eva, on the say so of my friend Una, fellow Brutopolis Stae helper and a friend since we were late teenagers. Two ladies playing the concertina wouldn’t have been my choice, but the magic of EP is that you stumble across things you wouldn’t naturally choose, and discover something new and wonderful. They had the place mesmerised.
After that I toddled over to Salty Dog for the annual appearance of the Wedding Band of The Damned. This ensemble is made up of sound enginners and stage managers from across the Picnic having a massive jam session featuring the Sea of Change choir , all of whom have , or have had cancer. They play amazing cover versions of Bowie, REM, Queen, The Human League, Dollu Parton, and Talking Heads. They never disappoint.
I slept well, content that my contribution to the wall was the most laborious thing I’d have had to do, and that it was done.
Our train carriage bar had proved to be a roaring success last night. This morning it looked as if it had been transporting cattle the night before. It had rained all day Thursday, and every visitor had brought us the gift of mud. Throwing buckets of water onto the floor of a railway carriage and then sweeping it all out had not been on my Bingo card for this weekend. This task was complicated by the fact that we did not have a hose, so I had to fill a wheel barrow from tap at the back of the stage area, travel around tent pegs and then use an old paint tin to carry the water up the steps to the carriage.
When I’d finished I was standing tired, but proud, surveying the fruits of my labour, a not as dirty as it had been railway carriage. Mark approached me. For a brief moment I thought he was going to clap me on the back and say “That’ll do Pig, that’ll do.”
What he said was “Paul, do you know where the wheel barrow is ?”
“Yes.”
“Great could you get it and start moving that mulch to the back of the stage around the tents ?”
I followed his gaze to see a mountain of mulch several miles away from where we were. It was in fact 20 mtres from where we stood, but I have a cartoonish sense of drama.
It is now 4pm.
I want to go to bed.
This also was not on my Bingo card.
Embrace the chaos !
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. Unusually , this is not for you ,, , self indulgently it’s for me…and all other festival goers.
