Friday, 23 November 2012
Sunday, 18 November 2012
From A Jack To A King
I have to admit that the humour on me when I arose was not a positive one. But I always try to 'turn that frown upside down' before I face the world, and I had a busy day ahead of me. Made coffee in my big Hoops mug and headed to my 'music room' and sang more than a few songs. Always gets the endorphins goin'!
After lunch I packed the van and headed off across town with Annette to the center where she works, for to entertain the seniors at their first Sunday afternoon dinner/bingo/dance. (It's usually Wednesdays.)
I may never be up there with the greats but I don't need to be when I get a response such as the one I get from this group when I sing a few songs. They do more for me than I'll ever do for them. Let's just say the humour upon me had changed completely by the time I was packing my gear back into the van.
Home for a quick tea and then a 200 KM round trip to pick up my oldest pal at Cork airport on his return from a trip to England. I was still singing when he got into the van. We spent the drive home chatting and laughing.
Those negative humours don't come on me often, but when they do I always hear the voice of another pal in me heid. His advice, along with his satirical jibing, have been more of a blessing than any I ever received from from a man of the church. (The irony of his current dwelling place is not lost on me!)
I end this day a much happier, brighter man. Thankful for what I have, the people I know, and the love I receive.
After lunch I packed the van and headed off across town with Annette to the center where she works, for to entertain the seniors at their first Sunday afternoon dinner/bingo/dance. (It's usually Wednesdays.)
I may never be up there with the greats but I don't need to be when I get a response such as the one I get from this group when I sing a few songs. They do more for me than I'll ever do for them. Let's just say the humour upon me had changed completely by the time I was packing my gear back into the van.
Home for a quick tea and then a 200 KM round trip to pick up my oldest pal at Cork airport on his return from a trip to England. I was still singing when he got into the van. We spent the drive home chatting and laughing.
Those negative humours don't come on me often, but when they do I always hear the voice of another pal in me heid. His advice, along with his satirical jibing, have been more of a blessing than any I ever received from from a man of the church. (The irony of his current dwelling place is not lost on me!)
I end this day a much happier, brighter man. Thankful for what I have, the people I know, and the love I receive.
Wednesday, 14 November 2012
Revolution
It is indeed time for all Irish men and women to yet again rise up.
A time for politicians to tell the church to FUCK OFF!
A time for citizens to tell the politicians to GROW THE FUCK UP!
A time for Revolution.
A time for ME & YOU to make our voices heard.
A time for ME & YOU to STOP being the weak little 'it's up to the government' shits that we have become.
WE are the Government.
WE put them in Power!
It Is Our FAULT!
It is MY Fault!
It is YOUR Fault Ireland.
A time for politicians to tell the church to FUCK OFF!
A time for citizens to tell the politicians to GROW THE FUCK UP!
A time for Revolution.
A time for ME & YOU to make our voices heard.
A time for ME & YOU to STOP being the weak little 'it's up to the government' shits that we have become.
WE are the Government.
WE put them in Power!
It Is Our FAULT!
It is MY Fault!
It is YOUR Fault Ireland.
Friday, 9 November 2012
Thursday, 8 November 2012
Saturday, 3 November 2012
Movember
From the age of about 14, up until the age of about 39/40, I had a 'tache, or a beard. I also had hair, and bushy eyebrows. (We won't go downstairs!)
The 'tache was part of my face for so long that when I eventually shaved it off for good, people thought I looked physically sick. They said things like "You don't look right, have you been ill?, I can't put my finger on it, but you, my friend, look wrong!"
Because it was when I started shaving my heid, and my barber said I couldn't have bushy eyebrows with a bald noggin, and clipped them back to within an inch of their lives, that I decided to shave the 'tache.
I actually felt naked for quite a while. My upper lip trembled at the thought of going outdoors, into the wide open world.
But eventually, we, my lip & I, became accustomed to the stares, and the cold, and the cold stares!
I grew a beard a few years ago. Imagine a ginger Santa. It didn't look good in June. It didn't make July.
It's Movember, a time when Irish men of all ages (and men of some other countries, not to mention a few women) stop shaving on the 1st of November to raise funds for, and awareness of, men's Cancer.
Being in the business of show, and having to look one's best at all times for one's public , I have never participated in such shenannigans. But yesterday, having shaved the heid, I let the face go wild. Two days in, it doesn't look much, a mixture of grey & ginger, a slight shadow on an otherwise handsome fisoge. I have a gig with the two-piece this very evening and I will decide just minutes before the gig if I shall shave or not.
Herself will not approve, though she fell for the moustachioed Map many moons ago. Or maybe she will be tickled grey!
Think 'Magnum', think 'Freddie Mercury', Think '70's Porn Star'!
I know you want it!
The 'tache was part of my face for so long that when I eventually shaved it off for good, people thought I looked physically sick. They said things like "You don't look right, have you been ill?, I can't put my finger on it, but you, my friend, look wrong!"
Because it was when I started shaving my heid, and my barber said I couldn't have bushy eyebrows with a bald noggin, and clipped them back to within an inch of their lives, that I decided to shave the 'tache.
I actually felt naked for quite a while. My upper lip trembled at the thought of going outdoors, into the wide open world.
But eventually, we, my lip & I, became accustomed to the stares, and the cold, and the cold stares!
I grew a beard a few years ago. Imagine a ginger Santa. It didn't look good in June. It didn't make July.
It's Movember, a time when Irish men of all ages (and men of some other countries, not to mention a few women) stop shaving on the 1st of November to raise funds for, and awareness of, men's Cancer.
Being in the business of show, and having to look one's best at all times for one's public , I have never participated in such shenannigans. But yesterday, having shaved the heid, I let the face go wild. Two days in, it doesn't look much, a mixture of grey & ginger, a slight shadow on an otherwise handsome fisoge. I have a gig with the two-piece this very evening and I will decide just minutes before the gig if I shall shave or not.
Herself will not approve, though she fell for the moustachioed Map many moons ago. Or maybe she will be tickled grey!
Think 'Magnum', think 'Freddie Mercury', Think '70's Porn Star'!
I know you want it!
Thursday, 1 November 2012
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