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Peader Brown’s Pub
Michael Black, our prospective host on Rathlin Island, encouraged us to reach out to his best friend, Pat Good, in Dublin. Pat is also a folk singer, who also worked for the Guinness brewery for 37 years. Pat was happy to hear from us to encouraged us to go to the Peadar Brown Pub at 5 pm on Saturday where he would be performing. We had a bit of trouble finding the place as Google seemed not to have heard of it. No online presence. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. It turned out to be a good thing, a very good thing.
Our three hours at Peadar Brown’s were like entering a mythical Ireland that I didn’t believe really existed. This was a truly local pub in every sense of the term. I knew we weren’t in the kind of bar I’m used to when one of the patrons demanded quiet so they could hear remarks from a representative of the local hospice thanking the bar and its customers for their support. It was also striking to see a group of beautiful young girls of about 10 years old running around the bar like it was a playground. But most of all was the music. It turns out Pat had invited us to a “Trad Session” where musicians, both professional and amateur, are invited to gather to play and sing. In addition to Pat on the guitar, there were 6 or 7 other players. Fiddles, pipes, a banjo, mandolins and a Bodhrán (Irish drum). Patrons of the bar would wander by and ask to sing. The players would play the song of their choice and they would belt it out.
This led to the single most Irish moment of my life. Seriously. Probably enhanced by the 5 or 10 pints I had had by then.
The bar was quieted with the announcement that a grandfather would like to sing a song with his granddaughter. Up stepped a friendly, young looking Irish grandfather with a young red-haired Irish girl who looked like she stepped off a cloud of Irish Angels. Truly stunning.
They then sang the song, Grace, which recounts the heart-breaking story of the Irish rebel, Joe Plunkett, who got married in Kilmainham prison the night before he was executed in 1916. Oh. My. God. The sight of that beautiful girl singing that song with her grandfather was almost more than I could bear. A picture is below. I hope to figure out how to post a video soon.
In preparation for the trip, Cousin Bob encouraged both Richard and me to be prepared for some kind of performance, since visitors are often required to “stand and deliver” at social events. Sure enough, the leader of the musicians asked for a performance from the three visiting Blacks. I had memorized an Irish blessing by Irish poet/philosopher John O’Donohue called Beannacht. It’s a touching poem that can be found here. Since I was prepared, I didn’t mind going first. Since there was a lot of ambient noise, I figured the stakes were not that high. Who’s going to notice if a screwed up the poem in a noisy bar. So, I stood up. But as I began to speak, the musicians yelled for quiet and the whole bar obeyed. So, everyone was paying rapt attention. That’s when my knees started wobbling. I started off strong, but lost steam as I went along and was making up lines by the end of the poem. But they were kind and got a good round of applause, supplemented, I suspect, with a bit of pity.
Of course, I was the first and last of the Blacks to perform.
Pictures and video from this amazing evening are below. Be sure to enlarge the pictures to get the full experience.
Pat Good is on the far left. The bearded guy next him demanded my performance.
Pat at rest
Grandfather with his little angel
David the plumber on the guitar. Didn’t get the other guy’s name but he’s got passion.
Are these girls from Central Casting, or what?
A Wedding in Dublin
After the 1916 Tour, we attended the wedding of Cyril and Margaret. Margaret is cousin to Bob and Richard on their mother’s side, obviously unrelated to me. None of us, however, was invited to the wedding. Apparently, the Irish term for us is “plate lickers.” You can probably figure out the derivation.
Nevertheless, we were welcomed enthusiastically. The Matriarch of the family was thrilled to see Bob and Richard and they were able to connect to a number of cousins who they hadn’t seen in a while.
I ended up with the husbands of the women who constituted the bride’s posse. They were at the bar having a boisterous good time. They seemed to recognize me as a plate licker once removed and invited me over to join the party. The picture is below.
L to R Liam, Me, Charles, Michael Winter and Joe
Photo by Richard Black
I explained to Michael, the fella next to me, that my mother would have said, “He’s got the map of Ireland on his face.” The group was intent on convincing me that Michael was a famous man. Despite his very distinctive face, I didn’t buy it. Then, they told me to Google his name. Sure enough, he’s a walking stereotype. The grizzled horse trainer who almost beat the Queen’s horse at the Royal Ascot with his horse Missunited. The horse only lost by a nose.
Here’s Michael hoisting the Powers Gold Cup.
And here’s a short video documentary on Michael and his horse Rebel Fitz.
Fair warning: If you like listening to an Irish brogue, you’ll love this video. However, it probably needs subtitles, particularly when Michael speaks.
Escaping a Trump Presidency in Ireland
This is a great short video about Inishturk Island, off the coast of Ireland, where they are encouraging “Trump Refugees” to come live.
Make Inishturk Great Again from MEL Films on Vimeo.
The Easter Rising
This year is the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising. It was the event that led eventually to the formation of the Irish Republic. In celebration of the centennial, there is a reenacted bus tour that visits some of the key locations in Dublin and is led by two actors who dramatize the experiences of some of those involved in this failed revolution.
The bus is a double decker but seats are only on the upper deck. Upon entering the lower deck, you are assaulted by the sounds and smells of the historical events, including passing through a dark, smoky passage. The female actor is shouting and cajoling with the tourists, portraying one of the rebels. Both actors remain in character for the entire tour.
We stopped at St. Stephen’s Green, City Hall, Dublin Castle and the GPO (General Post Office). The actors alternated between telling stories and acting out events, all in a very thick brogue.
The actors were amazing, fully committed to their parts. They portrayed the intensity of the experience, which included both humor and profound tragedy.
Frankly, while I knew something of the history, I hadn’t fully realized how many things went wrong, even before the rebellion began. It was doomed from the start. I wonder if this might have been the origin of “Murphy’s Law.” If not, it should have been.
The Amazing Murphys
We visited the Murphy Clan in Dublin for an extraordinary evening of excellent food, plentiful drink and extraordinary good cheer. We got to know the family after son Liam stayed at our house in DC during his internship in 2011.
L to R Ray Murphy, Richard Black, Liam Murphy, Bill Black, Bob Black, Sheila Murphy
Liam’s parents are Ray and Sheila and they are unusually delightful people, even by Irish standards. Continue Reading
Reading “Down the Crooked Road”
No, this is not a Trump Campaign documentary on the Clinton Campaign. It is Mary Black’s autobiography. I spent most of the flight reading the book while listening to the Black Family Singers on my iPhone. Mainlining.
The book is surprisingly good for a non-writer. It was clearly dictated, which gives it some real authenticity. Continue Reading
Going to Ireland
Today, I leave for Ireland. It will be my third visit, the first without the family. I will be accompanied by my two cousins, Bob and Richard Black. Their father, Bob Black, was my father’s brother. We will be gathering in Dublin. We’ll spend a couple of days in the capital and then head north to Rathlin Island, the point of departure for Archibald Black in 1846 and thus began the Black’s American saga. We will be staying as guests of the Black Family Singers whose most famous member is Mary Black. Our host will be Michael Black, who lives in San Francisco but returns to Rathlin every summer. Not sure whether any other of his family members will be there.
We’ll leave Rathlin on Tuesday and head for Galway which will be holding its annual arts festival, purportedly the biggest such festival in Ireland.
I return to Boston on Friday, July 15 in time for my brother’s wedding on the 16th.
This will be a trip unlike any other international trip I’ve taken. Watch this space for further updates and, I hope, some good pictures.
Gets Better
I did some further bike repair today and it went much better. It proves the old saying that you learn more from failure than from success.
This morning I needed to move the gear shifter and the brake handles from one place on the handlebar to another. In my mind, I probably exaggerated the difficulty given my previous experience. But that caused me to think long and hard about how I was going to do it. Anticipate problems and figure out how to avoid them.
And it worked! Now, the bike is fully equipped for a long ride and I’ll test it out today on a trip to the annual Smithsonian Folklife Festival, my favorite event of the year.
Gets Worse
This morning I got back at it. I clearly hadn’t installed the handlebar properly which clearly contributed to my spill yesterday evening. But after much trial and error, it seemed I had everything attached in the right place and the right way. I made sure the brakes worked without locking up. This time I put my helmet on and went out for another brief ride. Now, the gear shifter was acting up. I tried to shift the front gears and the chain came off.
Strangely, at that moment, a neighbor, a man of maybe 70, walking his dog offered help. Seemed odd until he explained that he had sold his bicycle manufacturing company three years ago, so he knew a little something about bikes. Turns out, he was no help with the bike, but had a fascinating story. Was in the biking business for 40 years, sold his first company in the early 70’s. Mentioned a bunch of brands that sounded familiar and told me the founders all worked for him. He invented a number of seats and was surprised that I liked the weird seat I installed.
It was a nice chat and told him not to be surprised if I knocked on his door for some help or advice as I prepared for my trip. He walked off and I hooked up the chain. I continued my test run.
Within seconds of our chat, I shifted the back gear, everything seized and I heard a sickening grinding noise. This time, it was the derailleur. It was completely twisted and a gear was laying on the street. An ugly mess. The rear gears looked completely destroyed. This was bad.
I brought my twisted mess to a local bike shop, expecting many hundreds of dollars and weeks of labor. But, it’s always darkest before dawn.
To my surprise, it was less than $100 to fix and I had my bike by the end of the day. AND, he straightened out my handlebars and restrung the brake and gear cables. Back in business.
Tomorrow, my first “dress rehearsal” into Rock Creek Park with my fully equipped bike.
Over the Top
Here’s what I hope will take me from Peoria
This will be the first of my posts surrounding my charity bike ride from Peoria to Washington, DC in August. It’s an inauspicious start. I’ve been installing various upgrades to my bike, most recommended by my future riding partner, Peter Asmuth. I successfully installed a weird seat that is much more comfortable than typical bike seats. I also bought a Bluetooth speaker that works with my iPhone, since headphones are strictly prohibited.
Yesterday, I tried to install some fancy new handlebars. Peter tells me it is important to be able to switch your grip periodically on long rides. It was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I had to keep track of which side the brake handles and gear shifters needed to be. And making them fit was a bit more of a challenge than expected. After much fumbling around, I finally got everything attached and took the bike for a very short ride.
Didn’t go well.
Fortunately, I was moving pretty slowly when I came out of the driveway without my helmet. I gently squeezed the brake and the front wheel locked, launching me over the handlebars on to the street.
I blocked my fall with my hands, but I’ve got soreness in a number of places, hands, hips, shins. I put the bike away and came inside to nurse my wounds. Not sure if the problem is my installation or that I hit the brakes too hard. I’ll get back at it this morning.
