28 June 2013
679
R. Linda:
The day is rainy, gloomy, and chilly -- it doesn't get any better than this!
Considering high 90-degree heat, smoke filling the Denver air, and the possibility of snow the next day, I'd say New Hampshire weather beats Colorado's! I know I am being me sarcastic self, but I just can't help it.
The gloomy atmosphere has given way to some not-so-good news. Me old grandda be in hospital with lung infection. Doctor says he can thank himself for smoking the old lungs into a tarry, holey mess. Well, he be near 100 years old so I'd say he's beaten the lungs longer than most.
I've known about this for a wee bit, that things had taken a turn back on the old sod, but with you battling the heat and smoke, I thought to spare you. But things changed with a phone call because it be leading to a story that I must get out of me system.
Me grandda is the only one of me grandparents left. He be me father's father and while the two would go at each other, they were always together engrossed in some carpentry project and the curses would fly along with the hammer whacks on the nails they were pounding. When they weren't pounding hammers they were in the kitchen slugging back shots of Jameson trying to outdo one another also with lots of cursing. I tell ya, me mam would run from the house it got so intense and vulgar.
"Men!" She'd say as she threw on her coat and ran to a neighbour's for cover usually dragging yours truly and sister along with her.
So last night I rang the parental units to ask after grandda and the old geezer be holding his own, cursing the doctors and nurses, so that be a sign he's improving. Me mam whispered into the phone since the old one had been carted off, it be very quiet in the house, she didn't want me da to overhear. It be so quiet, she gets these sudden panic attacks she's in the wrong house!
Me dad takes the situation much more philosophically. Yes, he does. He got on the horn and told me a story, or as he called it -- a pleasant memory of his, and I think I'd like to share that with you. Yes, it is uplifting, it is deep (in Irish horse shite I be sure) and it be typical of an Irishman and his outlook on life.
So here it goes in me dad's words which I will write in the Irish accent because you don't want a miss a bit of the flavour.
This is his story:
"When I was in me last year of school just before college, me poor departed mutha had made me and me da promise we'd goo look at colleges, so I'd futha me education and git a good job. She also had put in her will thot any monies left her by her departed parents would be used exclusively fer me education. Now dis codicil in her will wus da bane of me existence. Me da wanted ta use dat money fer other tings, but fer her last will and testament, it wus fer me education and ME education only. A ting he dint care a flip about.
"Because me old man was on "leave" from work (a note from me: Leave = being on the dole), he had da time ta go check out a school wit me. We lived in Newry as ye knoe an off we were ta Dublin ta Trinity College. Now at da time, Trinity was still known as a Proddy university and Catlicks looked elsewhere unless ye had alotta money like Oscar Wilde den ya jus dint care and joined in anyways. So wit dis in mind we started off and kin I say here I did da driven cus yer grandda for sum reason dint like to drive to Dublin, he said he hated the drive down thot way. Sos I did da driven I did, an he sat back an complained about me driving da entire way down dere. I wus never so happy to be outta da motor I kin tell ya dat much!
"Sos anyways we arrived in da city an went stroight to da hotel we did. We were hungry havin' eaten da sannies we packed fer us selves. The strange ting wus I noticed a change in me da as soon as he stepped outta da motor. He seemed to have swagger and wus actin' like he wus a big man in Dublin. He exuded confidence he did, which made me take pause, becus bein' on da dole like he wus, at home he exuded the beaten dog attitude. I tink becus me auntie reminded him who wus da breadwinner. . . her! Ay, we lived wit me mam's sister fer a while after mam passed . . . him bein' on da dole an all.
"Me da wus talkin' ta anyone within hearin' like he wus da big man. He couldn't git any looser den he wus at thot moment, I tell ya! Sos we goo inta dis pub and take a seat an he starts flirtin' wit da woman bartender (which wus a surprise ta us cus mostly men tended bar) but dis dint put yer grandda off his game, no indeed. He ordered up 2 Murphys and 2 shots a Jameson and I looked at em' in wonder thot he wus goin' ta drink all dat cus da next dae we were ta tour da college and well . . .
"He placed one beer and one shot in front of me. Well, I wus gobsmacked becus at home dis would never occur in front of me sainted Aunt Kate. He looked at me and grinned, den picked up his beer to clink against mine and said, "Congratulations Jamie me boyo!" Da bartender came on over on hearing thot and asked wot we were celebratin' and me da looked at er' and said, "Well lovie, we be celebratin' me sons makin' it by his own brain ta college despite his famous da!"
"Well, as you kin imagine, da woman did a double take an took er' a closer looksee at yer grandda and she smiled wide sayin', "I knew you were sumboodie, but I can't place da name wit da face."
"At dat he smiled big, picked up his Jamesons, gestured to me ta do da same, we clinked da glasses and downed da shots. We slammed da shot glasses down and grinned at each other. Den he turned ta da bartender who stood dere tryin' to reckon who he be, when he says ta help her out, "Did ya happen ta see Hell Drivers?" (me note: this was a 1957 British flick popular at the time) and before he could say anymore she threw up er' apron over er' face an let out a scream of delight. As ye can imagine, dis had everyone in da place lookin' at us. And when I stopped lookin' around at da faces lookin' wit strange grins at us and saw me old man's face . . . well he was smiling wide as a jack o'lantern after scaring a black cat he wus!
"Da bartender took the apron from er' face an leanin' on da bar top she says ta him, "I knew it was you, Patrick McGoohan! Oh wot, are da odds a' Patrick McGoohan bein' in me pub?"
"Ay, exactly wot I wus tinkin too! Now ye knoe as well as I, yer grandda does NOT look anyting like dat actor. If I hadda a pick one he resembled McGoohan would be da last . . . more like Herbert Lom on a good day! Mind here, yer grandda said nuthin' notta peep. No correctin' da situation, nah nottin'. So fer da next few hours we proceeded to git hammered wit free drinks just fer bein' famous.
"By night's end da bartender wus starstruck and asked "Patrick" if he'd like a nightcap at her place. He clapped me on me back, asked if I had da room key and tole me he'd see me in da mornin', and off he went. I tell ya! I sat lookin' after dere arses wit me jaw on da floor.
"Da next mornin' he cooms strollin' inta our room (more like me room since he wasn't really stayin' in it) makin' enough noise ta wake da dead (which wus me, feelin' da hangover) an he's got dis shite-eatin' grin on his -- looking nothing like Patrick McGoohan's face. I wus taken aback I was and said, "Wot da hell happened las' night? Where'd ya goo?"
"He said nuthin' just hummed ta his bad self and made a cup of tea from the electric pot on da desk. "WELL?" I tried again gittin' outta bed to make meself one.
"He sat himself down in a chair like he wus a king and grinned at me as he sipped his hot tea. When he had a few sips he decides ta grace me wit an answer. By thot time I had me own cuppa an' had settled meself on the edge of da bed waiting. "Let dis be a lesson ta ya sonny boy, thot ye kin be whoever and whatever ya wanna be as long as ya have yer confidence. Take heed o' dat boyo an you'll go far."
"As it happened, we went over ta Trinity fer da college tour an we found inventive ways ta barf in da bushes all around da campus becus we were both so hungover from da night befur. I tell ya!"
THIS, THIS then was a pleasant memory? Oh my GOD!!! I hung up the phone wondering what the lesson to ME was on THAT. The only thing I got out of THIS was I now know why, when me da be angry with me grandda he calls him "Patrick" his voice dripping sarcasm. I thought he was using it as a derogatory substitute for "Paddy." Yup.
Afterthought: after I thought about it for awhile: Patrick McGoohan me arse!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
The day is rainy, gloomy, and chilly -- it doesn't get any better than this!
Considering high 90-degree heat, smoke filling the Denver air, and the possibility of snow the next day, I'd say New Hampshire weather beats Colorado's! I know I am being me sarcastic self, but I just can't help it.
The gloomy atmosphere has given way to some not-so-good news. Me old grandda be in hospital with lung infection. Doctor says he can thank himself for smoking the old lungs into a tarry, holey mess. Well, he be near 100 years old so I'd say he's beaten the lungs longer than most.
I've known about this for a wee bit, that things had taken a turn back on the old sod, but with you battling the heat and smoke, I thought to spare you. But things changed with a phone call because it be leading to a story that I must get out of me system.
Me grandda is the only one of me grandparents left. He be me father's father and while the two would go at each other, they were always together engrossed in some carpentry project and the curses would fly along with the hammer whacks on the nails they were pounding. When they weren't pounding hammers they were in the kitchen slugging back shots of Jameson trying to outdo one another also with lots of cursing. I tell ya, me mam would run from the house it got so intense and vulgar.
"Men!" She'd say as she threw on her coat and ran to a neighbour's for cover usually dragging yours truly and sister along with her.
So last night I rang the parental units to ask after grandda and the old geezer be holding his own, cursing the doctors and nurses, so that be a sign he's improving. Me mam whispered into the phone since the old one had been carted off, it be very quiet in the house, she didn't want me da to overhear. It be so quiet, she gets these sudden panic attacks she's in the wrong house!
Me dad takes the situation much more philosophically. Yes, he does. He got on the horn and told me a story, or as he called it -- a pleasant memory of his, and I think I'd like to share that with you. Yes, it is uplifting, it is deep (in Irish horse shite I be sure) and it be typical of an Irishman and his outlook on life.
So here it goes in me dad's words which I will write in the Irish accent because you don't want a miss a bit of the flavour.
This is his story:
"When I was in me last year of school just before college, me poor departed mutha had made me and me da promise we'd goo look at colleges, so I'd futha me education and git a good job. She also had put in her will thot any monies left her by her departed parents would be used exclusively fer me education. Now dis codicil in her will wus da bane of me existence. Me da wanted ta use dat money fer other tings, but fer her last will and testament, it wus fer me education and ME education only. A ting he dint care a flip about.
"Because me old man was on "leave" from work (a note from me: Leave = being on the dole), he had da time ta go check out a school wit me. We lived in Newry as ye knoe an off we were ta Dublin ta Trinity College. Now at da time, Trinity was still known as a Proddy university and Catlicks looked elsewhere unless ye had alotta money like Oscar Wilde den ya jus dint care and joined in anyways. So wit dis in mind we started off and kin I say here I did da driven cus yer grandda for sum reason dint like to drive to Dublin, he said he hated the drive down thot way. Sos I did da driven I did, an he sat back an complained about me driving da entire way down dere. I wus never so happy to be outta da motor I kin tell ya dat much!
"Sos anyways we arrived in da city an went stroight to da hotel we did. We were hungry havin' eaten da sannies we packed fer us selves. The strange ting wus I noticed a change in me da as soon as he stepped outta da motor. He seemed to have swagger and wus actin' like he wus a big man in Dublin. He exuded confidence he did, which made me take pause, becus bein' on da dole like he wus, at home he exuded the beaten dog attitude. I tink becus me auntie reminded him who wus da breadwinner. . . her! Ay, we lived wit me mam's sister fer a while after mam passed . . . him bein' on da dole an all.
"Me da wus talkin' ta anyone within hearin' like he wus da big man. He couldn't git any looser den he wus at thot moment, I tell ya! Sos we goo inta dis pub and take a seat an he starts flirtin' wit da woman bartender (which wus a surprise ta us cus mostly men tended bar) but dis dint put yer grandda off his game, no indeed. He ordered up 2 Murphys and 2 shots a Jameson and I looked at em' in wonder thot he wus goin' ta drink all dat cus da next dae we were ta tour da college and well . . .
"He placed one beer and one shot in front of me. Well, I wus gobsmacked becus at home dis would never occur in front of me sainted Aunt Kate. He looked at me and grinned, den picked up his beer to clink against mine and said, "Congratulations Jamie me boyo!" Da bartender came on over on hearing thot and asked wot we were celebratin' and me da looked at er' and said, "Well lovie, we be celebratin' me sons makin' it by his own brain ta college despite his famous da!"
"Well, as you kin imagine, da woman did a double take an took er' a closer looksee at yer grandda and she smiled wide sayin', "I knew you were sumboodie, but I can't place da name wit da face."
"At dat he smiled big, picked up his Jamesons, gestured to me ta do da same, we clinked da glasses and downed da shots. We slammed da shot glasses down and grinned at each other. Den he turned ta da bartender who stood dere tryin' to reckon who he be, when he says ta help her out, "Did ya happen ta see Hell Drivers?" (me note: this was a 1957 British flick popular at the time) and before he could say anymore she threw up er' apron over er' face an let out a scream of delight. As ye can imagine, dis had everyone in da place lookin' at us. And when I stopped lookin' around at da faces lookin' wit strange grins at us and saw me old man's face . . . well he was smiling wide as a jack o'lantern after scaring a black cat he wus!
"Da bartender took the apron from er' face an leanin' on da bar top she says ta him, "I knew it was you, Patrick McGoohan! Oh wot, are da odds a' Patrick McGoohan bein' in me pub?"
"Ay, exactly wot I wus tinkin too! Now ye knoe as well as I, yer grandda does NOT look anyting like dat actor. If I hadda a pick one he resembled McGoohan would be da last . . . more like Herbert Lom on a good day! Mind here, yer grandda said nuthin' notta peep. No correctin' da situation, nah nottin'. So fer da next few hours we proceeded to git hammered wit free drinks just fer bein' famous.
"By night's end da bartender wus starstruck and asked "Patrick" if he'd like a nightcap at her place. He clapped me on me back, asked if I had da room key and tole me he'd see me in da mornin', and off he went. I tell ya! I sat lookin' after dere arses wit me jaw on da floor.
"Da next mornin' he cooms strollin' inta our room (more like me room since he wasn't really stayin' in it) makin' enough noise ta wake da dead (which wus me, feelin' da hangover) an he's got dis shite-eatin' grin on his -- looking nothing like Patrick McGoohan's face. I wus taken aback I was and said, "Wot da hell happened las' night? Where'd ya goo?"
"He said nuthin' just hummed ta his bad self and made a cup of tea from the electric pot on da desk. "WELL?" I tried again gittin' outta bed to make meself one.
"He sat himself down in a chair like he wus a king and grinned at me as he sipped his hot tea. When he had a few sips he decides ta grace me wit an answer. By thot time I had me own cuppa an' had settled meself on the edge of da bed waiting. "Let dis be a lesson ta ya sonny boy, thot ye kin be whoever and whatever ya wanna be as long as ya have yer confidence. Take heed o' dat boyo an you'll go far."
"As it happened, we went over ta Trinity fer da college tour an we found inventive ways ta barf in da bushes all around da campus becus we were both so hungover from da night befur. I tell ya!"
THIS, THIS then was a pleasant memory? Oh my GOD!!! I hung up the phone wondering what the lesson to ME was on THAT. The only thing I got out of THIS was I now know why, when me da be angry with me grandda he calls him "Patrick" his voice dripping sarcasm. I thought he was using it as a derogatory substitute for "Paddy." Yup.
Afterthought: after I thought about it for awhile: Patrick McGoohan me arse!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
7 comments:
Wasn't Patrick McGoohan Danger Man? Maybe that be the lesson ;)~
ROFLMAO
I KNEW you had and interesting familyLMAO
and funnier than HELL!
Yes, yes he was.
That's where I think they are from sometimes, SIGH.
Memories are certainly made like that, ROFLMAO Though your replies to your comments thus far are as funny as your story.
Yup, one would think. SIGH.
lmao that was fun loved it!!!!!!
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