The drunken Irish – oh how we love to be the wobbliest and loudest. How we love the idea that one Paddy can pack away more pints than a small community in Belgium. We are so entrenched in the idea that it is our inalienable right to be sozzled, that we sometimes lose sight of why we want to get so drunk. Why is the natural sober state of an Irish person so repugnant that we constantly want to be tipsy, drunk or semi paralytic? It is only in the last 250 years that we have become such vessels for intoxication, but that is next weeks’ blog, and I have someone very special to blame for that one…and it’s not just the beer companies.
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What St. Patrick means to me….
It has been a hazy, green week for a lot of people around the globe. Sore heads mix with sunshine. Pints of the black stuff copulate with swift and nifty chasers in pubs and bars from east to west. Giant leprechauns dance with shrieking lassies of Celtic delight. Gentle and not so gentlemen rediscover their love of what I like to call “Speedy Ostrich Yahoo Dancing”. This is when the male manages to extricate himself from the three deep bar, holding three pints of Guinness and three tumblers of Jameson whiskey balanced precariously on top – his upper torso remains rigid and balanced to prevent the alcohol from spilling, while from the waist down there is a rapid rhythm and flailing of legs which mimics the beats of the Bodhrán and fiddle pounding around room – his face is a blend of concentration, raspberry tongue and winks, as he nods and shouts back to his mates in the corner.
Tales from near and far
It’s been a frustrating week on the poker tables. I have been haemorrhaging cash on all sides and finding it difficult to keep any sort of traction and momentum going. I’ve just finished playing for nearly six hours and have been dunked out of two massive tourneys online with nothing to show for it but a whole load of expletives. It has been a case of one or two bad decisions, mixed with a horrendous run of bad luck. It’s a tough game and it’s made all the tougher when luck goes against you. Poker is a big release for me and when it goes wrong I find myself shrinking into a deep, dark spot. There is no alcohol to drag me out of this, so it means I have been facing myself every day with nothing to cover the wrinkly down turned lines on my face. I see myself for the bushy haired, balding, softly sagging man that I am. Gambling is emotional and losing opens sore pores. I’m not a happy camper.
The Soft Word of The New Year
A really naff way to start this blog would be to make excuses for not blogging more regularly while I was away. I managed just one little video when I was in Dublin. I had aspirations of interviewing Christy Moore, Paul Mc Grath and Tommy Tiernan. All came to nothing. It is quite difficult to get in touch with the rich and famous and even when you do, they’re generally not too keen to get involved with low life loafers like meself. I did get onto Tommy Tiernans agent, who is his wife I think. This is how the conversation went. My phone rings…
Three days in the Gold Coast (Sober Paddy Edit)
I have just spent three days up in the Gold Coast in Queensland. For those who haven’t been, it is an area full of high rise hotels and apartments overlooking golden coastline as far as the eye can see. It sums up the great and the tacky about Australia. Beautiful beaches and people, mixed with outrageous commercial properties and nightlife. There are water parks and rollercoaster’s twenty minutes drive away. There are nightclubs and casinos for the discerning gentlemen and ladies of the night. There is surf and sun and swimming pools for those who want to just want to chill.
Booze – we’re better off just being friends
I work in a pub. It might seem strange, but it gives me a good fix of that social world without having to get pissed. The problem is that everyone else is getting drunk. There is nobody there for the good of their health. They are there to meet some very basic requirements – companionship and booze. This is a very solid part of peoples day to day life. It smoothes over the edges and makes problems disappear. The interaction between friends who are merry is a joy to behold. I do feel that serious deadly sin “Envy” when I see people out on the beer enjoying themselves. It makes me remember the good old days….