And I Will Know When it’s Time to Go when All the Love’s Been Made

Tags

Dingle, family, Ireland, love, Mundy, peace, place, writing

I’m in love with the southwest of Ireland. i have been since 1998. Phew. I finally got that off my chest. I was on the Dingle Peninsula today, and it just smells like home. I wish I could explain it.

When I saw the Atlantic and all the green, I welled up.

The song that popped up tonight and resonates most with me is Mundy. The last time I was on the Beara Peninsula, heaven on Earth, I rented a car. This was 2004. Every time I would travel, I’d go to an HMV or Virgin Music and buy the local top cd, and that was Mundy.

They never made much in the States, but it reminds me of what I was ten years ago–more lost than I realized.

So here’s to Ireland, making a writer of sorts out of me a decade ago. I’m still going strong, and even wrote about the comfort of burning peat in my novel.

I have spent time in the south with friends, my Dad, my Mom and Dad, and now my uncle. But most importantly, I spent it with myself–something I didn’t recognize was important at the time, but now realize its significance.

Southwest Ireland, I will always love you. Until the next time we meet again.

Ps–sorry about the generic photo–real pic in my big camera.
——-
Listen to What the Man Said–Paul McCartney

Sloop John B–the Beach Boys

I Love You But I Don’t Know What to Say– Ryan Adams

Red Hill Mining Town–U2

Rip This Joint–Rolling Stones

All the Love’s Been Made–Mundy

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They are Tangled Up in the Light

Tags

DPchallenge, Dublin, Guinness, Ireland, love, travel

It’s my 8th time to Dublin. I’m a snob, I know. I’ve seen Bloomsday in 1999, seen U2 at Croke Park in 2008, and know the Irish Punt. Ireland is like a second home. And as I am here once again, with a fresh set of eyes with my uncle who is a first-timer, I know why I love it here.

In my 7 previous times, I have missed two important things in Dublin–the Guinness museum, and the National Library. As always? I’m here when the Library is shut, which is unfortunate because the two missing links in our geneology is when my great great great grandparents came over in the famine. I guess I’ll have to book another trip 🙂

But I did get to for the first time go to the Guinness factory and let me tell you–amazing!

Guinness is one of those iconic figures in my life. I love IT. The beer, what it stands for, and now the brewery. It is gorgeous. Anyone, including those who don’t drink, will find themselves in awe .

Glass, barley, water–it has all.

To steal from the Jayhawks line, “I never knew how it should be”.

So here’s to Dublin. Here’s to the place that keeps reinventing itself. Here’s to the place I never thought could once again impress me. It has.

—
Moonlight in Vermont–Willie Nelson
Love Don’t Wait–Michael Franti
Hide Your Colors–Jayhawks
Elderberry Wine–Elton John
Orphan Girl–Emmylou Harris
The Finer Things–Steve Winwood

A Lesson Too Late for the Learnin’

Tags

brother, getting by, Ireland, love, U2

Bono on the jumbotron, Croke Park, Dublin

Alright. I am changing the format a little for a few reasons. One, the damned shuffle on iTunes reloads each time, even when I keep the window open and I have to start over each time. Two, I think things will happen more organically this way. So I will start writing when the first song comes on, and will stop with the last. I will still continue to try not to cheat. Doesn’t look like that will work…

About eight years ago, my brother and I got into a huge fight. Actually, his wife and I got into a huge fight. It was pretty nasty. All sides were right, each of us were wrong, but the line, “If we weren’t so alike, you’d like me a whole lot more” left me aching. We were best friends, whether either of us was willing to admit it. It hurt. It actually tore my family up for almost a year.

Despite things now being better than ever, I realize that sometimes you can make it on your own. I did for almost an entire calendar year. It was difficult but I did. I couldn’t hear my brother’s name without crying. He chose to not call my parents, which killed me more than anything. I felt guilty. But I pressed on.

“How to Dismantle an Atomic  Bomb” began its tour in Dublin the summer of 2009, and I was