Jesus fucking wept, people! Four years I've been here. And this was the first time I actually ventured forth into town on St. Patrick's Day, and stuck around to be part of what ever was to go on.
Fuck! What an experience!!!
Ye've all been there, of course. (So ye think!) Holed up in some pub, in england. Surrounded by 'Plastic Paddy's' who, on that one night of the entire fucking year, suddenly remember they had a Great, Great, Great Grandma who once passed an Irishman in the street. So, now they drink a pint of ice cold, piss water Guinness, brewed under licence, and get all " Oh Danny Boy ". FFS.
Forget It! I've just experienced The Real Thing. As Real as it fucking gets! Right here the local town which has taken me to it's bosom. Surrounded by the people I now see as friends. No; More like one huge, extended Family! And mad as a box of frogs, just about every one of them! Bless 'em!
" Chris " and I rolled into town late. But, not so late that we missed even the very beginning of the Parade. (" Chris " is what I'll call a certain girl, for now. I call her that half the time anyway. Because she so reminds me of the real Chris. The one I keep scrambling her up with, in my head).
This 'Chris' is a house guest of mine just now. That's another story. Here's my side of how our " St. Paddy's Day " went off, last Wednesday .....
The two streets of Town were lined with people. All the expectable bunting and Tricolour flags were in evidence. As we stepped out of the cab and crossed the road, I remember catching the eye of one of the lovely guys who runs the newly opened Kebab House ~ we like the odd kebab too, ye know! ~ and muttering, " Madness! ". He smiled and nodded in understanding. Fuck knows what He was about to make of it all
Into Jim's. Pints ordered. Tasted. Left. Back outside; They were warming up for the Parade! And the Marching Band were right outside. Drums, Bagpipes, Tartan. They looked Good! And, minutes later, it all went off.
First came the local Military. Probably no more than a dozen. But these were our soldiers! People of our town. Sworn to take up arms and offer to lay down their lives in defence of us, or any one else they were sent out to look after. And many wore Medals! These people had heard the call and answered! (I'm almost in fucking tears here! I'm SO proud of these people!)
This may sound like shit, to you. Maybe ye've seen the massed ranks of some military unit from somewhere, marching along with a band at their head. Faceless. Just " The Army ". " Soldiers ".
But, when ye see that young girl ye've so often seen in the butchers, buying some dinner. Now, here she is; Face set. Eyes dead ahead. Arms straight and Marching past ye in uniform like that ....? Make a lump of granite swell and choke up!
Then the Marching Band. Drums. Pipes. Absolutely Fucking Perfect! The local Fire Fighting Service ~ Hero's to a man. And just about every fucker around who had a service, association or a pride and joy to show us followed.
Everything from some mad fuckers wearing horribly real masks of our ..... (What you'd call) 'Prime Minister'. And some mad bastard made up just like our recently departed ~ and extremely recognisable ~ 'Defence Minister'. And, it goes without saying, Elvis was there too! (I honestly thought Chris was going to pee herself laughing over Elvis! Fuck knows who that was. But, he Was hysterical! LOL!)
Dear little children ~ one being told, " Look! There's Ditch! Wave and say hullo! " as they passed. (I diagnosed and caught the mouse that had been plaguing that family. A pregnant female looking to nest. No trouble since. They seem to think I'm some local hero now!)
Guys I've known and drunk with for years, now rolling by on their perfectly restored, vintage tractors. I swear to god; Some fucker even swept by in a DeLorean! Doors open like some fucking space craft! Guy had it to show? He showed it in the Paddy's Parade. Small town, 'medieval' Co. Leitrim.
I could go on (and on. And On!) about the general Stout Fest that followed. Barely twelve hours of non stop Guinness guzzling, for us late coming oldies. Some probably started earlier and lasted longer. I know some youngsters did. I was talking to one this afternoon. And, god, did I empathise! Poor kid wished he was dead! LMFAO!
That was Tess's older lad. I've been vaguely aware of Tess for some time now. An occasional 'Face' in Jim's. Seemingly well in with a couple of the older guys I count as acceptable and accepting drinking company. I'd never really so much as given her a second glance. Or listened to a word she was saying.
Jesus H. Christ! Did all that change, on the night of St. Paddy's Day!
To be continued ....?
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