[ Irish KC ]
Kansas City Irish Festivals, Music, Pubs, & Events by an Artist in Ireland

-How are ya, me oul’ flower?
-I’m grand, thanks
-I’m going to the airport if it’s any use to ya
-Nah, I’m headin’ to town, thanks

You know you’re in your hometown when grown men call you an old flower, and you don’t mind.

Upstairs on the bus I hear German, Irish, and Polish. I don’t hear any English. Dublin has always given me peoples and accents to listen to, and I have always loved them.

The kiosks on Grattan Bridge are no more. That’s Capel Street Bridge to people who don’t read plaques on bridges. I never saw the kiosks do anything, but I liked them as blocks just sitting there.

In Easons I look through the latest issue of State. Great use of white space I think as I make a note to add it to my regular life whenever life gets regular.

The last time I was on O’Connell Street I spent ages looking at Julian Opie’s animated walking figures but the sun has brought out tons of tourists who aren’t used to walking among the thousands on Dublin’s crowded streets. So it takes more effort to glide between constantly stopping, and even reversing, pedestrians. They should have to take a walking test before they’re allowed out of vehicles. Or at least wear a big hat with an “L” on it.

The Palace Bar. So good to meet someone in a pub of an afternoon. Pints without fuss. I was bidding farewell to one of my children. One of my yellow children as it happens. To the impressive Fat Mammy Cat.

We are sitting at the bar and on the floor behind the bar we can see a painting by Alan O’Dwyer of James Joyce. The frame has come apart and I can see beer stains on the picture. They suit it well.

In the back room there are more by O’Dwyer including ones of Paddy Kavanagh, and of Myles na gCopaleen. You know I like Myles and Kavanagh.

Pat Ingoldsby is on Westmoreland Street. Still. I remember an earlier age when we both sat in Moran’s, pints in front of us, pens in our hands, and stealing glances at each other over our notebooks. Another day a friend and I considered for hours going to see Pat live, but we got nervous and afraid we’d be sucked in if not a huge crowd tured up. So we didn’t. That night less than a dozen attended and Pat brought the entire audience home from the pub to his house.

I wait until I am 30 feet past and lost in the passing hundreds of pedestrians before I turn and look back. Pat is looking at me. I know I should buy a book. When life is regular. You should buy a book.

[ Update: I’d no idea that 2 days prior to this post that Darragh wrote much more and much nicer about Pat. Well worth a read. ]

The buskers on Grafton Street haven’t changed. Golden moving statues. And lone scruffy men with guitars. Maybe somebody will make a movie. Oh look that one’s not singing. And he’s better dressed. Hey, it’s a former Taoiseach. In this week when we have a brand new former Taoiseach. But no not him. It’s Garret The Good.

The 7th Taoiseach of Ireland, Garret Fitzgerald hands me a leaflet urging me to vote Yes to the Lisbon Agreement.

I’m impressed that Garret is concentrating on just handing out the leaflets, especially as there aren’t many takers. He doesn’t try to persuade you with conversation. There is no chat chit from me either. There would be. If life was regular.

Muji. I hear Gay Byrne was in the day before. Muji is the sort of shop that sells candles with multiple wicks. Seven simple folds and your candle takes the form of the city of London. You light the wicks and have your own mini-Great Fire. I try out a brush pen. It’s nicer than the ones I own. I should buy it. When life is regular. I leave with paper.

To TK Maxx. I am low on clothes. I like being low on clothes, but there are parameters you shouldn’t push. Did you know TJ Maxx in the US is called TK Maxx in this part of the world? And vice versa. Same logo, give or take a “J” or a “K”. To avoid copyright or trademark confusion. All very confusing. I get the name wrong in both countries now.

It’s 20 cent you give to the attendant outside, so you can go the jax in the Stephen’s Green Centre. Is that all it costs to keep public toilets free of the hassles free public toilets suffer from? I can do that. If you index linked one penny sterling from 1850, I’m sure it’d be worth more than 20 cent in 2008.

And who are these people to declare a phrase no longer used? I hear it several times a week. Perhaps I should tell the people who use it that the phrase is no longer in use.

See Stuff Vaguely Related:
    • Readying for Ireland on the Streets of Kansas City
    • The Seagull Has Landed
    • An Irish Odyssey in Kansas City

This entry was posted on Saturday, May 10th, 2008 at 5:00 am and is filed under 1-eolai, Meanderings. You can follow responses via my RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.