Author Archive: Bill Black
I'm a baby boomer, lefty Democrat, Boston Irish Catholic, born in 1953. I work as a public affairs consultant in Washington.
Dinner with the Saunders and Murphys
We had a delightful dinner with our friends, the Saunders and Murphys. The Saunders are effectively our benefactors in the two times we’ve visited Ireland as a family, generously donating their car to us for our travels and, on our first trip, lodging. The Murphys are friends of the Saunders’ whose son, Liam, did a short exchange program in Washington.
It was a lively dinner, full of laughter and goodwill. The restaurant was The Winding Stair, which is right off the Ha’ Penny Bridge. It was an unpretentious place with excellent food. I would definitely go back.
Dublin – Reconnecting with Danny
Traveling to Dublin was uneventful. A nice benefit of the European Union, we breezed through Customs. What we arrived to was unusual, though, a driving hail storm. Standing in the taxi line, the hailstones were clattering on the overhang. Within a short time, it turned to rain, more typical Irish weather.
We stayed at the Ashling Hotel, a recommendation of a friend in Dublin. While it was a Best Western, apparently Best Western is a more upscale brand in Ireland that it is in the U.S. It was a very nice, seemingly business hotel. Clean with attentive staff.
Meet the Parents
The first night we had dinner with the family that was hosting our son for the last three months. David and Gilian are the parents, Adam and Ian the two teenage sons. There are a delightful young family. He’s an interior designer with his own business, she’s a nurse. He is also an adventurous gourmet cook, which explained their choice of restaurant, the El Bahia Moroccan, which bills itself as the only authentic Moroccan restaurant in all of Ireland. I have no reason to doubt the claim as it was extremely authentic. Upon walking into its dark, lush interior, Bridget remarked, “I feel like I’ve left Ireland.”
Danny was extremely fortunate in his host family. They were all bright, intelligent, friendly, open and creative. The sons are both musicians, Gillian sings in a choral group and, as noted above, David is a chef. They appeared to have true affection for Danny and David even delivered his pre-approved lines with conviction when I asked how Danny was doing? He said, “He’s unfailingly diligent and focused!”
My Favorite Picture So Far
Here’s Bridget on the Millennium Bridge over the Liffey River in Dublin taken on our way to dinner.
London – A Short Visit
Boy, that was quick.
Preparing to leave a whirlwind visit to London. So quick, there was no time to blog.
Here are the highlights:
Day One – Arrival
What an ordeal arriving. Here’s advice for future travels, take a taxi from Heathrow. We thought we’d save money by taking the Express into London and then the Underground to Covent Gardens where we stayed. Big mistake. We had six pieces of luggage and what a sight we were, lugging this collection from transit mode to transit mode. Since the UK doesn’t not have an Americans with Disabilities Act, we had more than a few stairs over which to drag our belongings. Some kindly Londoners graciously helped Rita and Bridget navigate their respective loads.
Then, relaying upon my IPad for directions, we schlepped from Covent Garden station to Liecester Square, to the Radisson hotel….the wrong Radisson hotel. Enough of the lugging, we took a cab back to the right hotel, in Covent Gardens, a block from the Underground station that we had just left.
Shopping
Since I’ve been to London before, I utterly deferred to Rita and Bridget on how we would spending our time….mostly. Their top priority was to shop. So, I tagged along. Impressions noted in previous post.
Mamma Mia
Since Lion King tickets were unavailable, who chose to see Mamma Mia at a price so expensive I’m embarrassed to reveal the amount. The beginning of the show had me very troubled. It’s seemed utterly derivative to the movie, right down to the overalls worn by the “mother” character to match Meryl Streep’s. It also seemed very much the stage version of a chick flick. I kept stealing glances at Rita and Bridget in hopes they were enjoying it more than I was.
Fortunately, after intermission, the show took off. Much more impressive staging. The opening dream sequence was very clever and creative. While I didn’t buy the darker emotions from which the show would emerge at the end, I was glad that the who began to diverge from the movie. And, of course, the show concluded with a series of false endings with steadily increasing exuberance, from the final performance of Mamma Mia (not one of my favorites) to Dancing Queen (which is my favorite) to Waterloo (whatever).
As a show, I can’t say for sure it was worth the price of the tickets, but as a London experience, it was.
St. Martin-in-the-Fields
Sunday morning we attended Eucharistic service at the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. I’ve been to the church before. Here’s a post, with video, of that visit. I still suffer from the cognitive dissonance of the images I’ve had from years of listening to classical musical performances by Sir Neville Mariner of the Orchestra of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. In my minds eye, I see a bucolic scene of rolling green hills with a small chapel in rural England. In fact, the Church is off Trafalgar Square on a busy intersection in the middle of London City.
Nonetheless, it’s a beautiful church and the service was very nice, with a choir. It was interesting experiencing both the similarities and differences from the Catholic Mass. More the same than different. Of course, the biggest difference was the woman celebrant.
More Shopping
And more tagging along. Bought a nice hat, though.
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| Consulting my IPad for Directions |
The London Eye
Biggest Ferris Wheel in the world, takes you up more than a thousand feet for a spectacular view of Big Ben and Parliament.
Harry Potter
Saw the new Harry Potter movie in the Odeon Theater in Leicester Square. Quite the venue. Part of the movie was shot within blocks of the theater including a prominent shot of this place:
Now, I’m in Heathrow on the way to Dublin, where we will be reunited with son, Danny.
Visiting London
Starting my second on a family vacation to London and Ireland. Cold and overcast, but excited about the day. Heading down to Sunday morning service at St. Martin in the Fields.
— Post From My iPad
ACORN Redux
The right wing never sleeps and is relentless in its non-stop battle against the poor. Even in the Catholic Church, an institution inspired by Jesus for whom the poor and marginalized were his paramount concern, has internal critics who attack programs for the poor. Contrary to Jesus’ explicit teaching, they would sacrifice the needs of the poor in order to protect against supposedly violations of Church doctrine on homosexuality, on which subject Jesus said exactly nothing.
Here’s a piece in the HuffPost about attacks on a program for the poor being conducted by the Catholic Bishops conference.
The hypocrisy is apparent in this quote by the leader of the mob trying to end the program.
Deal Hudson, who directs the conservative website Inside Catholic, said the CCHD’s reforms might eliminate funding errors if they are doggedly implemented, but said a more systemic problem remains.
“The groups they are dealing with, community organizing groups, are 100 percent committed members of the political left. That’s just a fact,” said Hudson, a former adviser to the Republican National Committee and former President George W. Bush.
Hudson strongly denied that politics play any role in his concern about CCHD, but said leftist groups nearly always conflict with Catholic doctrine on issues like gay rights and abortion.— Post From My iPhone
Return to Rathlin
Rathlin Island lives in myth within my family, which is why the events of this morning were so magical.
Somewhere between his birth in 1811 and his death in South Boston on October 28th, 1880, Archibald Black left Rathlin for America. He was my great great grandfather. Thanks to a pilgrimage by my Granduncle, Brother Jason C.S.X., and my Uncle Eddie Black in the late sixties that traced my family history back to the island, we’ve learned quite a bit about the place. It’s enshrined in their classic report called The Blacks of Ballygill.
You can see Rathin’s boomerang shape in the map above, off the north coast of Ireland. That’s Scotland to the right.
In addition to being the point of origin for the Black family, Rathlin Island was the scene of some other significant historical events. It has been populated since 2500 BC, when it had a thriving export trade in stone axes, presumably for use in ways other than chopping down trees. In 200 BC, the King of Norway tried to kidnap Princess Taise of Rathlin. It’s first Viking raid occurred in 795 AD. The famed Robert the Bruce took refuge in Rathlin in 1305. A number of massacres occurred in the 1500’s, perpetrated by the Scottish Campbell Clan. In 1617, Sir Randal McDonnell won a lawsuit that established Rathlin as Irish and not Scottish, after which the massacres resumed. Modernity visited Rathlin when Marconi himself established a radio link to Rathlin in 1898. The year 1955 saw the first car on Rathlin and there are precious few to this day.
But all of that pales against the place it holds in my family. Because it is so remote, hardly on the typical Irish tourist itinerary, nobody has been there since Brother Jason’s visit. It’s like Atlantis. We’re not even sure it really exists. Even Google Maps hardly takes note. As you zoom in, it shows up much blurrier that the surrounding geography.
Which brings me to this morning. My son, Danny, is in Ireland for a semester abroad. Last I’d heard, he was in Belfast. We were texting each other this morning on routine matters and he asked that I call him. We talked about his travels and the places he’s been. Then the following exchange took place:
Me: So, where are you right now?
Danny: I’m on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic or some big body of water.
Me: That sounds nice.
Danny: It’s really beautiful. Went swimming this morning. It was bitter cold. Also, I can see Scotland from here.
Me: Really? What town are you in?
Danny: Ballycastle.
Me: Hmm. If you’re looking over to Scotland, you must be near Rathlin Island, our ancestral home. Is there an island in sight?
Danny: Yes, there’s a small island to the left.
Me: Oh my God! That must be Rathlin!
A quick check of Google Maps supported the fact that Danny was looking at Rathlin. A text came a bit later in which he confirmed it, having asked a local.
I have to say I was almost moved to tears. It was like the family coming full circle, from Archibald to Danny. It was bittersweet, however, in that the people I most wanted to share this moment with, my father and mother, are both gone, my mother only a little more than a year ago. So, instead, I get to share it with the whole world, or at least that infinitesimal part of the world that reads this blog. I did call my sister and she understood the magnitude of the moment.
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| The southern tip of Rathlin looking towards Ireland |
The rest of our immediate family is booked to visit Danny over Thanksgiving week. Our key destination is now established.
On to Rathlin!
Robert Plant on NPR
The sounds of Led Zeppelin blasted from NPR for my ride home as a backdrop for an interview with lead singer, Robert Plant. While I like Led Zeppelin a lot, it wasn’t one of my favorite bands back in the day. Still, this interview moved me to tears, not because it was sad, but because the music was so good. Maybe the discordance of this kind of music coming from the usual calm mien of NPR, but they never sounded so good. Of course, Plant’s voice was featured, as what a voice it was/is. But it was the instrumentals that impressed me, Jimmy Page’s powerful guitar riffs and the drummer was breathtaking. I don’t even know his name.
Still, it was a pleasant blast from the past.
Gorging on Mother’s Milk
It’s been said that money is the mother’s milk of politics. Well, our political system has developed big breasts.
When the Citizens United case was decided, I was at a meeting in Florida with a group of corporate public affairs leaders. There was much excitement that evening at the reception where most thought that a new wave of money would be coming into our profession from corporations who were now freed to spend as much as they wanted to influence elections. At one of the sessions the next day, a Republican elections lawyer threw cold water on the crowd of excited hacks. He said he did not believe the decision would have a significant impact on corporate political spending. In his view, corporations were not looking for news ways to spend money in this area and would be reluctant to risk their brands be engaging in politics.
So, there were two schools of thought and time would tell. Well, the verdict is in. The New York Times reports on the avalanche of money entering Senate races on the Republican side through corporate groups. Given the crop of tea party candidates that the Republicans have nominated, they were probably need every dollar to ram these people into the Senate. Then, we’ll all pay for the resultiong chaos.
Going to be an interesting election.
This Land is Your Land
Last night we had our annual block party on my street in Northwest Washington DC. We’ve been on this street for about 16 years now and it has a unique international character. We’re kind of a ghetto for international finance organizations like the World Bank and the IMF. So, the food is always great, drawing from a variety of culinary traditions. There are also a multiplicity of foreign accents. I’d guess that about half the people at the block party were born in a foreign country. I met people from Germany, Denmark, Italy, Great Britain and one or two African countries.
The party goes on pretty late, but I generally bail out about 7:30 or 8:00 pm. But, I experienced a quintessentially American moment when, later in the evening as I was walking my dog, I could hear the sing along at the party just up the street. This group of foreign visitors to the U.S. was belting out Woody Guthrie’s iconic tune, “This Land is Your Land…”
Only in America.
— Post From My iPad