Sunday, June 28, 2009
I will go back to Ireland
I just woke up and am sitting here flipping through the TV channels, here is what I have watched so far...
That Thing You Do
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Lord Of The Flies
Bring It On
Dan In Real Life
Rick Steves' Europe: South Ireland
That is a pretty good example of how my mind works...
When I return to Ireland I would like to do a Castle Tour
My Family took a trip to the UK after Mary and I ended our engagement, and Mark divorced from his first wife. I think my Parents were trying to distract us. We were in Dublin and were supposed to be meeting some friends of my Parents for Dinner later in the day. Our tour stayed 2 days in Dublin so we had some time to walk around and see things. So after an afternoon of wandering around we were heading back to The Gresham, the Hotel where we were staying. Mom and Mark were way ahead of Dad and I because we were strolling VERY slowly talking about History or Politics or something. As we passed a restaurant an Irish Lady hearing us speak asked my Dad if we were American. My Father being as polite as he always was answered, "Yes I am". She then proceeds to launch into this 5 minute long rant about how her father was really JFK and the CIA was out to kill her. She had this whole fantasy built up in her head and Dad kept nodding at her and being polite and I'm standing there thinking how the heck am I going to get us away from this Crazy Irish Lady. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man leave the restaurant we were standing in front of and zip behind the woman and come in behind Dad WAY TO CLOSE. So I think, this woman is part of a pickpocket team and her job is to distract us while her male partner assaults my Dad and takes his wallet. I switch my weight to my back foot and I start cocking my arm back to punch this guy in his face. From behind he takes my Dad by both of this shoulders and puts his face right next to my Dad's face. But then he does something that pickpockets don't usually do, he winks at me. So I don't hit him. Dad turns to look at him and laughs and luckily I didn't punch him, this is my Dad's friend Jerry Carson that we were going to meet later for Dinner. Jerry looks at the Crazy Irish Lady and says "Excuse me" and whisks my Dad and I into the restaurant where he and his wife were having lunch waiting for the time to come see us at the Hotel. He introduces me to his wife (Carmen I think) and as we chat he looks at me and asks, "You were going to hit me weren't you?" "Yes I was", I replied. That is how I met the Carsons of Belfast. ::shrugs:: We all caught up to Mom and Mark and ate Dinner that evening together and the next day the Carsons took us on a walking tour of Dublin to see the sights. It was a LONG walk that drug on and on a little bit too long. During the walk I'm taking pictures of things I like. Mom and Carmen are up front and Dad and Jerry are walking behind Mark and I when I notice a little detail on the bottom of a lamp post on the curb. The lamp post was old fashioned looking, cast iron, and had been painted over and over again to keep it looking good. At the bottom of this pitch black lamp post was the colorful coat of arms of the City of Dublin. So I squat down and try to get close enough to the coat of arms to make it fill the view finder of my camera. I'm trying to keep my balance, center the picture, keep my hands from shaking and take this picture. This was before digital cameras so I'm sweating all the details because I can't just take 30 pictures and later pick the best one. I'm finally satisfied and I'm taking the picture when Mark sticks his hand into the picture and I end up taking a picture of the peace sign. Not even looking up I snap "Asshole", then look up from my camera to glare at my brother only to discover my Dad passing me instead & grinning his head off. Great, I just cussed my Dad. The morning we left Dublin I saw the Crazy Irish Lady pass by on a commuter bus, I guess she was trying to throw off CIA pursuit...
There are lots of stories about my Dad, telling them make me feel close to him...