Slightly Doolally

As the rogue purple underpants of Saturday begin their assault on the whites-only wash cycle of Sunday destiny, and the twin buttocks of Birthdays are sucked into the malfunctioning chemical toilet of my own natal anniversary I find myself sitting  at the computer sucking my creative pencil and sipping on a bottle of Barcelona’s finest Estrella lager.

My sageous words of this even-tide concern small happenings from long ago that echo through the decades. Rather than sit on my arse this evening watching Inspector Montellbano on the TV I thought would wander down to my local and have a pint or two and just watch the world go by with a chum. So it was this in mind I did just that and ended up sitting on the steps of  “The Old Courthouse” sipping a pint of Guinness.

The Old Court house

… and twas there I was approached by a lady, the conversation went thusly :-

Her: Excuse me can I interupt?

Me: Of course

Her: Do you remember 1974?

Me: Errrrrr… not really

Her: You were at a scout/guide disco and you asked me to dance

Me: I did?

Her: Yes – it was my first disco and you were the first boy I ever danced with

after a moment of full text index searching of deep memory:
Me: …. oh .. yes.. was it T-Rex “Get It On”?

(now why i remember the song I have no idea at all but i did)

Her: Yes [big smile] you remember?!!! That was it. It was the first disco my parents allowed me to go to and everyone was dancing except me and you asked me to dance
and I just wanted to say thank you … so … thank you.

Me: errrr… no problem …

Her: My Friends were all asked to dance before me and I was terrified but you were nice to me – it was a good first dance.

Me: [now blushing furiously] Sure thats fine, no problem ….

…and with that she turned and went back to her husband who was standing some feet away.

Now I have to add at this point than the memory of the incident is very very weak it being 38 years ago, I do remmeber that we were told to dance with “ALL” the guides and there may have been a scout leader poking me with a stick so perhaps my act of kindness was not quite so spontaneous as the lassie thinks.

But then .. for whatever reason she remembered the disco, the song and the fact I asked her to dance even after all these years. So in this world of “Social enablement” and an overpowering desire for celebrity it would pay us all to remember that it is not just the BIG things we do that we will be remembered by.
The things that to us are small and insignificant may be big important things to others … A fact that my dance partner from long long ago brought home to me today.

Thank you for the “thank you” I am almost positive it was not deserved however I did appreciate you saying it and thank you for remembering.

Had a good dander with Andrew Clark today in one of our favourite Sunday Dandering places – Benevenagh on the north coast of Co.Londonderry.

Benevenagh in the Mist

A short walk at 6 miles,but it is one that both stretches the thighs getting to the top and on the descent treats the eyes to a close up view of the cathedral cliffs that mark the end of Ireland and the start of the Atlantic … on the sofa this evening it set me to thinking  as to why this place and others are important to me – and this is what I thought.

My father’s face is in the rock of the mountain
The voice of my father is on the wind that blows
A voice for sons to hear.
That speak of flying higher than an buzzard,
to run faster than the hare in March,
to swim as freely as the bright  river trout,
to have the cunning of the fox,
and to have the wisdom of the fresh run salmon.
These are the words that sing in the wind,
words that never leave home.

In a rather tangential conversation about the up and comming BLUG i was reminded of one of my favourite pictures of all time painted by one of my favourite artists, René Magritte who happens to be Belgian and my sort of painter.

This is the picture and it is JUST marvellous

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of “Kev” goldfish of the parish of Barrnett, Belfast today 29th January 2012.

Kev was closely associated with our dear friend, colleague, ubergeek and Lego minifig model Paul Mooney. Their association spans many years, replete with adventures smiles and a few tears and his passing to the celestial bowl in the sky will be mourned by many none more so that Paul himself.

Little is publicly known about those early days of Paul and Kev as the piscean subject of this eulogy was at heart a gentlefish and not given to blowing his own bubbles about his life or works. Since his sad passing has freed this commentator from the bindings of propriety and the requirement within goldfishean society to be humble at all times, I now  feel justified in telling you the details of his life and works.

It all started in Fintastic Aquatic in Patrick Street in Dublin. The young Mr Mooney would run each Saturday down to the aforementioned piscean establishment with his pocket money in his hand, his heart beating wildly in the hope that this week he would have raised enough money garnered from the pennies raised from being a garden gnome stunt double in RTE Children’s epic “The 6 million punt leprechaun” to buy one of the many beautiful ornamental fish found within that august establishment.

Panting he would arrive, small face pressed against the glass in awe of the Angel Fish, gobsmacked by the Gobies and electrified by the eels and on that warm June afternoon he saw a bright orange flash dart from behind a plastercast model of the Black Pearl and he was hooked, so to speak, this was the fish of his boyhood dreams. this was the fish for him.Transaction complete and his new companion swiming in a clear plastic bag young Mooney jumped on the number 11 bus and headed for home.

As the journey to home progressed and as is the way in Ireland it started to rain and pisseth it did and mightly! But the inclement weather did little to dampen the joy and excitment of young Mooney as he passed through Drumcondra, Leeson street and the heady heights of the North Circular road. … It should however have reminded him to exercise the caution and common sense hammered into him by mother and elder brothers about use of excessive exhuberance around puddles … young Paul not being blessed in the height department.

On this day Paul was too full of his new fish, now named Kevin, and not looking carefully enough fell head long into a deep puddle not yards from his house. Being an ambitious chap with a mind to the future Paul had spent all his free time learning Windows 3.11 installation procedures (and dreaming of fish) and had neglected to learn the fine art of self propelled aquatic propulsion or “swimming” as it is know to heathen northern Protestants.

As Paul’s head dipped under the surface of the puddle for the 5th time, the bag holding Kevin burst allowing the plucky piscean to swim free. Quick as a flash Kevin turned and swam under the struggling Paul and carried him on his back for 10 minutes until a passing Guard was able to resuce the sodden Paul from his predicament.

Kevin was hailed as a hero by the denizens of Ballymunn and the extended Mooney family so it was not surprising that in recognition of the fantastic fishy bravery and pluck, Dublin Corporation commisioned “Tessilation” Terry McNoughtery, famed around the world for his mosaics to create a piece to commemorate this day for all time.

To this day outside Macari’s shoppers pass over the now world famous mosaic cebrating Kev the goldfish saving young Mr Mooney’s life …

Fare thee well Kev, swim free in the celestial bowl of happiness!