Monk's Blog
Returning To Dodge
Last night I played dodgeball for the first time in 7 months. While this statement may not seem like much, there are a few factors to consider. First, my age (42) and I’m playing against people half my age. Second is my general physical condition, which is not athletic. While these factor may skew against me, I’ve been playing a regular Monday night “pickup” game for several years, so I’ve gotten much better than when I started.
So why is it a big deal that I haven’t played in 7 months? Because I injured my finger playing dodgeball June 22 of last year. The pinky finger on my right hand (which I use to throw) got dislocated which is bad enough, but something happened to the ligaments and tendons in the finger that was very much NOT GOOD. Even after 2 months of having the finger back in its proper place (which happened almost immediately, so it wasn’t dislocated long) the finger looked wrong. Still does.
I am still not able to fully extend my pinky finger straight, and only in the last couple of weeks have I been able to make a fist without having it stick out. It’s weird, ad somewhat painful. Still, I’ve been looking forward to getting back to playing dodgeball as soon as my hand would allow.
After taping up my hand sufficiently I took to the court. I won’t say I wasn’t nervous, because I totally was. I’ve gained a little weight due to lack of playing, as well as atrophy of what little skill I have. Thankfully I didn’t completely embarrass myself. I managed to get a couple of people out and got my body moving for a couple of hours. And I had fun doing it.
I’m glad I got back out there to play again, and am looking forward to next Monday’s game. My body is sore, since I haven’t really used many of those muscles in 7 months, but it was worth it. My hand is sore, but that’s going to take some time to get back into shape as well. I don’t know if my pinky finger will ever fully get healed so I’ll just continue to tape it to my ring finger. Even if it does alter the way I throw, with some practice I should be able to continue playing for quite a while.
Back On Stage
Last night I went out and caught some local music. This used to be a very commonplace experience, but these days I don’t get out to the clubs much to see national acts much, let alone much in the way of small-time local acts. What took me out of my house on a Sunday night? An old friend.
Brian used to not only be my roommate 15-17 or so years ago, but he was the bass player in the band I was in. After the band broke up and we stopped being roommate Brian and I lost contact with each other. A few months ago I looked for him through some online means. After reconnecting with Brian online, I was hoping to be able to meet u with him, have a couple of beers, and catch up. Our schedules never worked out, unfortunately.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, Brian posted that he would be performing. This may not seem like tat big of a deal, since Seattle is a very musical town with local music every night in any number of clubs. What made this special was that Brian hadn’t performed in something like 14 years.
He was naturally a bit on the nervous side, but I wanted to take the opportunity to see him, as well as see him perform. I was curious as to which songs he would perform, but certainly didn’t expect him to perform anything from our old band. Brian has always been one of my favorite songwriters, and I say this not because he wrote songs specifically for my “voice” but because he’ good. Maybe I’m a bit biased, but I stand by my statement.
Since Brian’s last band broke up 14 years ago he’s gone on to other work, currently working for an acclaimed movie studio. Apparently a few years ago he began getting “the itch” to work in music again, and started noodling around at home. That in turn led to a couple of friends allowing him to sit in before a gig for a couple songs. After he announced his return to the stage, I took the opportunity to see him finally, as well as support him in his return to the stage.
Arriving at the venue I immediately saw Brian, and headed over to say “hello” to him. It was great to finally see him again after all these years, as well as get to hear him perform. He did three songs, none of which I recognized, but that doesn’t matter. I was glad to see him take the stage again.
Did it feel weird seeing a former bandmate up on stage? Not at all. I smiled through his whole set, glad to see him perform. I have no desire to chase that musical dream anymore, though I would like to finish recording a few songs that I had written. As for getting back up on stage myself, I just can’t see that happening at all. Brian, however, has always had the talent, and it was good to have it back out on the music scene. Here’s hoping he keeps getting out there.
Olympic Attendance (Part 2)
Originally the plan was to go to one of two places where busses would terminate that were set up as shuttles specifically for Olympic venues. One of the main places was downtown, where there are more parking garages, and a direct bus from that area to the coliseum where the Ice Dancing was being held. At the last minute mom wanted to check out the area where the event was, sort of to get bearings, then find parking and transportation to the venue. This is actually a big deal for a couple of reasons. First off, there’s traffic to contend with. Traffic is always an issue in any large city, but with thousands upon thousands of visitors flocking into Vancouver daily, there was even more traffic, and precious few parking spots. It’s not like Vancouver built parking garages specifically for the Olympics. The other major concern was my mother, who is not able to talk very far or quickly.
Turns out, the drop off place for cars is where the bus would let us out at anyway, so it was a good idea to scope the area out. I dropped off mom, allowing her time to walk the path from the street to the venue, then go and find some parking. About a block and a half away I saw a sign that advertised event parking for $20. I had figured on paying for parking, so having it that close to the venue at approximately the price I had hoped for, well, that’s all I needed. It didn’t matter to me that it was the parking lot of a hotel.
It was exciting, just being in the city where the Olympics were taking place. I grew up in a time when the Olympics actually meant amateurs competing, and long before the global economy brought everybody closer, and travel just wasn’t always as easy as it is now. The Olympics were an event, something very special. While they still are, they don’t seem to hold the same sway as they did 30 years ago, which is a shame, but they are still a grand spectacle.
Being able to attend the Olympics was something I never thought I would be able to do. I’d watch them growing up, longing wistfully to attend, in the same way that I hoped to win the lottery. It was a party atmosphere as we all gathered by the entrance waiting to be admitted. Two hours before the start of the event the gates opened. We went through search procedures, naturally, and went in to find our seats. Thankfully, because they anticipated a large number of people with transportation needs, the organizers had a number of golf carts shuttling people from the gate to the venue on an “as needed” basis. This helped my mother greatly, as she would most likely not be able to enjoy the event from the pain she would have had from the walk.
Upon entering the venue itself, we made a beeline for the souvenir stand. Our thought was that we wanted to not only see what there was, but also pick up some stuff before it got too crowded and they ran out of stuff. I picked up some stuff for myself as well as my kids, and a couple of things for mom. I spent way more than I had planned on, but it is probably the only time in my life I will attend the Olympics. I hope that when my kids are grown up and successful they are able to attend the Olympics and buy me a keychain.
It took forever to find our seats, due in part to some wrong directions given, but in the end we made it to our seats and watched as the zambonis smoothed the ice. My mother remarked at how shiny it looked. I elbowed her and said “That’s Olympic ice!” We were both rather giddy. I ventured out and picked us up some food, and returned in plenty of time for the event to start.
I won’t go into too much detail about the actual event, the Original Dance round of the Ice Dancing competition. You can look up the results if you wish. The Italians got more points than they should have, the Russians were good, but not THAT good, and one pair was absolutely robbed with the score they got, and the audience went nuts jeering the judges. The team that eventually did win the gold medal, however, deserved every point they had won.
Of note, at least to me, was the fact that the Olympic anthem was not performed. The event just… started. The first four competitor teams took the ice for 5 minutes of warm-up, then left the ice for the first team to skate. Then as they await their score, the second pair takes to the ice and get their “skate legs” back while waiting. This process repeats until all the competitors have skated. Then the announcement that the event is over, and … nothing. I expected a little bit more fanfare to be honest.
Still, afterwards the party atmosphere continued. People for different countries mingled with each other, taking photos with a screen fixed on the Olympic torch. We made our way back to the car and drove home without incident. I was so glad to be able to attend the Olympics, regardless of event. To be able to see one that I enjoy was an added bonus.
Olympic Attendance (Part 1)
I arrived home from my Ireland trip on Friday evening, naturally exhausted. It was a whirlwind of a trip, with three destinations in 6 days, and I’m glad I got to go. Who know how dad will be in a couple of years when we are all able to go over as a family. Saturday I wake up (late) and feel like I’m barely functioning. Still, I start on going through the hundreds of emails that have piled up since my absence (and lack of internet) and begin getting ready for Monday.
My little brother comes over to pick up a few items that I picked up for him in Ireland, such as a hat, poster, and some sweets. He had to come over because chocolate is not going to last long in my house. We talked about my trip, how dad is doing, and some other stuff. Conversation then turned to what he was up to, and he mentioned that he was to go up to Canada the following day with mom. Why? Because she had tickets to the Olympics and the friend she was going to go with bailed out on her. Jeez. Tough break, getting to go to the Olympics. But wait, my little brother didn’t want to go.
I said that I wish I could go, but have too much work that piled up over the week I was away. Not only that, but I had just left my pregnant wife alone with three small children to care for by herself for a week. My little brother had no interest in spending four hours in the car with mom, and even less in the Ice Dancing event. Laura said I should go. I protested on the grounds of having left her for a week already, and she replied that one more day isn’t going to kill anybody (hopefully).
A couple of phone calls later and I was replacing my brother for Olympics attendance.
This would not be an event free from drama, however. Mom and I have a strained relationship, going months on end without talking to each other. Add to this the fact that another brother of mine Ian purchased the tickets for mom, and will also be attending the event. I haven’t seen nor spoken to Ian in years, for reasons which are not appropriate to go into at this time. So, this could have been a very horrible family disaster of… Olympic proportions.
Sunday morning I wake up and help get the family breakfast together, then I head off to meet mom. Keep in mind that the previous week I was in Ireland, and was just getting adjusted to the time difference, then returned 36 hours previously. My head was a bit fuzzy (to understate things a bit). After meeting mom, we drove up Interstate 5 and had a fairly pleasant talk the whole way up. The border crossing went uneventful, and there was smooth sailing all the way into Vancouver.
How Was Ireland?
So whats Ireland like? Tough to say. I only got a small sampling, and a tainted one at that. Still, I can honestly say that the Irish are an amiable peole, and generally welcming. There is a great influx of Polish into Dublin, noticably so for even a veeryshort time visitor like myself. What does that say about Dublin or Poland? Not much. Several years ago when Laura and I travelled around the world (literally) Warsaw was one of our favorite places of that whole trip.
Where we stayed in Dublin had a view of the river and Ha’Penny bridge, which we lucked into. Part of this luck was in asking a woman on the street as we were wandering about, somehwat lost. In Belfast and Ballycastle I stayed with family who had fleeting knowledge of me or hadn’t met me before. This was done not necessarily as a familiar obligation, but because that’s the nature of the people.
Pub life is different, where “adults” in America go to the bar to have a ew beers, thepub is a social gathering place. Yes, beer flows, but not in the uantities that one necessarily migght associate with a drinking establishment. Because everybody there grows up around the beer and it isn’t the “forbidden fruit” as it is in America, it dosn’t hold the same sway on the Irish. That’s not to say they don’t like their drink, but they are much more sensible about it.
A real sense of culture, heritage and history is enjoyed by the population as well. Everybody seems to be if not formally educated, at least knowledgable about some of the basics of their country, which is sorely lacking in America.
Because it’s an island, and a large one, transportation is plentiful. A regular bus runs every hour from Dublin to Belfast – 24 hours a day. In the Dublin airport, an advertisement for the national airline offered flights from Dublin to other cities in Ireland for 19Euro. Busses are almost always running in the cities, so much so that it seems to be that transportation is the biggest employer in Ireland, more so than pubs. Ireland is an easy country to get around in.
Above all, Ireland is friendly and enjoyable. To say that I woulld like to go back is an understatement. There is so much to see there, so much history to explore, that a couple of months would wind up being a whirlwind tour of the highlights. I look forward to going back.
Last Day In Ireland
We got up early on the last day, which was about 7:30. After showering and getting ready, we got going about 9:30. It may have been later than I would have had I been on my own, but it was about what I had expected. It was fun walking around Dublin with my father, who spent 6 months or so there about 30 years ago before moving to Seattle. Naturally things have changed considerably, and with the effects of his aneurysm he gets turned around a bit, but he still recognized quite a bit.
Because he’s getting older, walking is getting to be a bit more difficcult. He can do it, but needs frequent rests. Planning for this, my idea was to take the Dublin city bus tour, which does a circuit of many of the sights the city has to offer, and runs for most of the day at about 10-15 minute intervals. Riders can get on and off at as many of the stops as they wish.
One of the first things we saw was St Patrick’s Cathedral. Well, I went in, he went outside for a smoke. My father has no interest in anything religious, while I do (and always have because of history, but that’s another matter altogether). My impression of the building was muted by the fact that admission is paid, and desite the fact that it’s a working church, it has a gift shop inside taking up space. It’s really neat to see though, and I still recommend it.
Then it was Dublin Castle, which isn’t quite as much a castle as it is a palace. Not only that, but the building that stands there today is a replacement from a couple of hundred years ago. Perhaps because of this (and it’s a working government building) the tour was well worth the time. Only a small portion of the building and grounds were seen, and the next time I’m in Dublin I want to spring for one of the unoficcial guides that go into all the public areas.
Had we the time, I would have liked to have National Gallery, being a fan of art. Since I had the one day for sightseeing, I had to prioritize and make some hard selections. The next was easy, however, as it was something I had been wanting to do for years – St. James Gate.
The Guinness Storehouse is the location where the dark liquid used to be made, and is now more of a tourist spot. When I first planned on going there many years ago, Guinness was still brewed there. Still, the self guided tour walks visitors through the brewing process in interesting. And there’s a free pint waiting at the end. I don’t think I ever want to back there, but I’m glad I finally got to see it.
At this time, it was 3:30, and it was cllear that my father needed to go and lie down for a rest. I had plannd for this, by sort of scheduling my visit to see the Book of Kells (which he didn’t want to see) while he was resting. The problem was getting him back to the room then me to Trinity College in time. This led to our only argument my whole visit, about which direction to go. Eventually we parted ways, at his insistance. He was (finally) oriented in the right direction to go back to where we were staying, and I was off to Trinity College.
Walking from St. James Gate to Trinity College isn’t so much of a problem. Doing it in a short ammount of time in order to beat closing time can be an issue. Several blocks into my walk, I hailed a cab and made it in plenty of time.
The Book of Kells is a lavishly decorated copy of the four Gospels that holds historical significance for Ireland as it was written over 1000 years ago. It is one of the very few manuscripts from the time that is not only intact, but on display. One doesn’t need to be religious in order to appreciate what the Book of Kells holds for Irish heritage and history.
By the time I got back to where we were staying, it was time to pack, a little more tourist shopping, some dinner, repacking, then out to the pubs for music again. The pub with the misic this night was just down the street from where we were staying. Since they only have music on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nghts, there was nothing on offer th previous night.
Music started rather promptly at 9:30, and consisted of a duo singing mostly Irish songs, but they weren’t necessarily “traditional” tunes as expected – or advertised. Because we were going to be getting up early so I could get my flight, we didn’t want to get up and go wandering around to try and find some better music. By the time we found another pub with live music (which might have been just as bad) we would have had to leave. We stuck it out, and some of the songs were good, but Neil Young is Canadian, and “Heart of Gold” is anything but traaditional Irish music. When they stuck to standards such as “Whiskey in the Jar” things were better. Oh well.
Up in the morning, we caught a bus to the airport, and checking in was easy. The flight to Chicago was sparsely populated, which was nice. There was a delay in lifting off, but that’s how air travel goes. And I’m back home.
Further Events On Day 5 In Ireland
Despite a late start, The first day in Dublin wasn’t a complete bust. First up, I needed to visit a church. Initially I was planning on visiting St. Patrick’s Cathedral since it was Ash Wednesday, and I needed to get my ashes. Since I was getting off to such a late start, I decided to just visit the first place I could find while dad had a lie down in the room to rest. This worked out rather well, as I was able to travel faster on my own. Several blocks away I found a church run by Carmelite Monks, which seemed to be set up to take into account people’s working schedule as well as travellers, as the mass was over (people were leaving) but there were still monks set up on the sides to place ashes on foreheads.
On my way back to the room, I stopped off and visited a tourist shop (one of many in the area) and picked up a number of items, mostly for my kids. One of the few things which I was specifically to pick up was a keychain with a castle on it for my son August. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to visit any of the historical structures throughout Ireland’s countryide as I had hoped, so I would be reduced to finding something tacky in Dublin. I didn’t find what I was looking for, but wound up overcompensating for everybody with far too many little things and shirts, not just from this first stop, but in a couple of other places.
Getting back to the room and finding dinner, we then wandered around the Temple Bar area looking for music (and a pint). Everyplace that we found was going to have music start around 9:00 or so. This left us popping in and out of different pubs for a couple of hours, mostly watching a football/soccer match. We settled in one pub, and 9:00 came and went before any of the musicians showed up, let alone started.
It appeared that the evening’s session was going to be by a group of local musicians that play on the streets in addition to pubs. Also, instead of a group, as in a cohesive unit, it was a collection of individuals that knew each other and played together, but not on a regular basis. Musicians filtered in throughout the whole night, occasionally joining in, sometimes leaving.
While this may seem like a disaster, this is how things work with traditional Irish music sessions. I remember my teenage years having grouls of people in the house, and there was no set list, and eopl played whatever was handy or they happened to have brought along.
Sure, they may have started late, and after every song or two paused (longer than one might hope for)to figure out which tune to play next, but also to visit with each other, but their music was great. An audience member even sang a couple of old folk numbers. It was a fine evening listening to music, one which we ended earlier than we had wanted, but we had to get up early as there was only one full day for sightseeing in Dublin and we would be getting up somewhat early to pack as much in as we could.
Of course, by early, I mean about 11:30, which may be early for some, especially on vacation, but dad was ready for bed, and I was too.
Ireland – Day 5 (On To Dublin)
Wednesday morning dad and I were off to Dublin. Initially when I was planning my trip, I looked online for places to stay, and found some that were central in the city and relativly inexpensive. Those plans were nixed when my father said he knew of a place that was cheap, and he would be able to take care of things on his own there.
I should have gone ahead and booked the hotel myself.
Getting up and going then getting to the bus station took less time than we had expected, managing to catch the 10:00 coach to Dublin. This was all good, but I had told dad that the train would be quicker, but he didn’t believe me. I had done the research online, and he was going on memories from 40+ years ago. Naturally I didn’t push the issue and went along with his plans.
The bus to dublin took over 3 hours, some of it painfully slow as the driver wouldn’t pass som slower vhicles. A border cossing where some people were taken in for not having the proper papers didn’t help any. By 1:30 we were in Dublin, and ready to find the place.
My fears were realized as w wandered around central Dublin looking for a place to stay. Naturally there are a number of places, many of which are rather expensive. Wandering around the city is no problem for me, usually, but I had a rather large suitcase to drag behind me in addition to my carry bag. That sucked.
Also slightly embarrasing was the fact that he kept trying to ask people where a B&B was, ony he didn’t know which one he wanted. Add on top of that his language difficultis ever since his stroke, and you have a recepie for disaster. Thankfully we were in the very center of the city, right next to the river, and stumbled across a place. It wasn’t bad, price wise, but there was no internet available. All of my plans for getting any work done at all on this trip were dashed.
Yet somehow it was the perfect place. Centrally located and decently priced, it wound up working out very well for us.
By the time we got up to our room and situated it was well after 4:00 in the afternoon, much later than I had planned or hoped for.
2 More Days In Ireland
I’ll not be going into great detail about my time in Belfast for a couple of reasons. The first of which has to do with politics. Belfast is a city that has had a rough time of things, and is where my father grew up. I was glad to have the opportunity to see this first hand.
Another reason I’ll not be going into great detail is there wasn’t a lot going on. Mostly, my time in Belfast consisted of going to the pub and visit family. I met Joe, the last of my father’s brothers and sisters (there were 11 altogether) and saw Sean whom I had last seen a couple of years ago, then Eamon, whom I had last seen in 1986. All of these visits were around pints.
I did see some stuff, but nothing really touristy. Dad and I caught the bus from Ballycastle at about 11 in the morning on Monday and got into Belfast about 1 or so. Then a bit of a walk to the taxi, we arrived at Sean’s house about 2. Since he was at work, we went to the local pub to see if Joe was there, and he was. We planned on 1 pint, but that usually never works out that way. Later that afternoon, we collected our things from Sean’s, got another taxi to Joe’s where we were staying, and walked over to the athletic club where Sean works. Naturally, there’s a pub there.
Tuesday as spent wandering around looking at the neighborhood where my father grew up. I heard some stories of people both living and dead, and got a better appreciation for who he is and where he comes from. Then it was off to the club, and on Wednesday morning we were off to Dublin.
The Ireland Trip Day 2
Falling back asleep at 5 did the trick, and I slept untilabout 10 in the morning. After a bit of an easy morning waking up with coffee, a shower and conversation, Deirdre and I headed over to pick up my father. Also there was Mauread, another of dad’s sisters, and the four of us headed out for the day.
It was a lovely afternoon, not because of what we did, but just being together with family. The weather was a bit wet, but that’s alright. Being from Seattle I’m use to a little rain.
Several miles to the east of Ballycastle is a World Heritage Location, Giant’s Causeway. It’s a geological formation, where the rocks have been shaped into patterns – hexagonal columns. It’s rather impressive. There are a few highlights all within walking distance. Because Deirdre and Mauread have seen the Giant’s Causeway loads of times, they stayed back, and dad who isn’t in great health took the shuttle bus with me one direction to the main site, then headed back on the bus while I explored on foot and eventually walked back.
There are a number of nice spots that can give a visitor an appreciation for what there is geographically. The local legend is that a giant build a bridge on that spot between Ireland and Scotland (where there is a similar formation). I highly recommend the area.
Then we drove around, visited the smallest church in Ireland, which was closed, and drove around a little bit more. After a stop off at a pub where I had some coffee, we eventually made our way back to Mauread’s house where we ordered dinner. Deirdre’s and Mauread’s husbands rounded out the group of six. We spent the evening talking and joking, and oddly enough I chose not to drink at all. I was tired and wanted to get past the jet lag. I was hoping to be able to do so be getting a good night’s sleep straight through unlike the previous night. I was able to call home and talk to my family, and eventually we made our way back to Deirdre’s house where I went to bed.
And couldn’t fall asleep.
Day 1.5 In Ireland
My first day in Ireland was fantastic. Long, but fantastic. The second day would prove to also be rather long.
It starts off, actually, with how the first day ended. After getting some food, it was aabout 10 at night. the jet lag, time difference and beer was kitting pretty hard. We went back to dad’s, he phoned up Dierdre, who had her daughter (my cousin) Fiona come around to get me. Since dad has a one bedroom house, there wasn’t much space for me. Dierdre has an extra bedroom, so that’s where I was to stay.
I had met Dierdre before when she came out to Seattle for a visit. Unfortunately, when I arrived at her house I was in no shape to visit. It might have been close to 11 by the time I arrived, and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. A quick hug hello, and I was pointed to my bed. I fell asleep right off.
That jet lag will sneak up on you. About 3 in the morning, I woke up. My body thought it was much later and that I was to get up and start my day. My brain was mad and wanted to sleep off the beer. After about an hour I finally got up. I plugged in my computer and charged up my Zune and cameraphone though the USB connection. Then I typed out the previous blog entry. Now it’s about 5 in the morning and I’m going to try to go back to sleep. I think I’m still a little drunk. I lost count of how many pints of Guinness I had. 5? 6? I know it wasn’t a lot, but when combined with the time difference, jet lag and lack of food, it can really affect you.
Then again, maybe I’m just making up excuses.
First Full Day – Arrival
First there was the four hour flight to Chicago. Then, a 7+ hour flight to Dublin. After that a two and half hour bus ride to Belfast, which was followed by an hour’s car ride to Ballycastle. And it was all worth it.
I managed to eek out couple hours of sleep on the plane between Chicago and Dublin, arriving at about 9 in the morning, which was a little later than scheduled. It wasn’t a big delay, but enough to miss the first bus that I had planned on connecting to Belfast where my father would be waiting for me. Fortunately, the coach service runs every hour, so I was able to catch the next one, but it would have been nice to catch that earlier bus, especially since he was already waiting.
Sleeping on the ride up to Belfast wasn’t an option. I was too excited for my first trip to Ireland, plus, as I had a couple hours sleep on the plane, and it was morning id Ireland, it made more sense for me to stay awake and get adjusted to the dime difference.
Getting the coach to Belfast was easy enough, and I didn’t have to wait too long before the next one came through. I’m traveling along the countryside of Ireland, and I think it’s brilliant. I’ve traveled quite a bit in my life, but I always get excited about going to a different country, whether for the first time or not. I know it’s cliche, but as I’m on the coach travelling through Ireland, I had to listen to The Pogues. After listening to a couple of albums from that band, I switched over to Devotchka, which provedto be a great audio accompanyment to the scenery.
I get off the coach in Belfast, and there’s dad. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen him, and he looked good. My cousin Terry works in Belfast, but comes back home to Ballycastle on the weekends where his mother, dad’s sister Dierde, lives. He was there as well, and after getting some (much needed on my part) coffee, we were in the car speeding on to the final destination.
Well, not quite final.
Since we arrived in Ballycastle about 2 in the afternoon, the day had yet to fully get underway. Dad and I chatted, I got a shower, then about 4 we went down to the pub.
What was special about this day, other than it being Saturday, Ireland was playing against France in a 6 Nations rugby match. For those that don’t follow the sport, and I count myself as one, this may not seem like a big deal, but it is. It’s an annual competition between France, England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland and Italy.
I wish I could remember the names of the places we visited. The idea was to give me a taste of what Ireland’s pub culture was like. Every television was tuned to the match, as it’s a matter of national pride. Families, yes with small children, were in the pub watching the match. Sure, they could have stayed home to watch the game, but pubs are very much a social gathering place. In America, if you’re not 21, you can’t enter the bar, but that’s not the case here. It makes for a much better and friendlier atmosphere.
The first pub we went to was small and had a couple of rooms. The “front room” (very much like the living room of a house) had a few tables and chairs, a fireplace, and a banquette along the wall. We sat, had a pint, and watched as Ireland played horribly against France.
Because it was getting a bit late, at least by my standards, I was needing some food. After the first half of the match, we shifted over to another pub that had decent food. This place was much more crowded. So much so that we couldn’t find a seat. A couple more pints, the second half of the game, and as the crowd thins a little, we find a set at the bar. The decision was then made by dad and Terry to move on to a different pub which serves better food., where we could sit down for a meal instead of getting a quick bite.
By this point, the jet lag was beginning to kick in something fierce, as well as the effect of not eating anything all day and having pint after pint of Guinness. Don’t get me wrong, I drink Guinness regularly, as it’s my preferred drink, but the combination of all these different factors was beginning to weigh on me.
So we get to the third pub of the night. After ordering a round, Terry takes off for home. Dad and I order some food, and it takes forever to arrive. We wound up ordering some Indian food, which was part of the regular pub menu. For those that know me, thn you understand just how heavenly that is, as I love Indian food.
Allow me to paint the picture. I’m in Ireland for the first time in my life, with my dad whom I haven’t seen in quite while, in a pub having Guinness and Indian food. That may not mean much to you, but I hope to remember that moment for a long time.
Ireland Trip Part 2
I’m headed to Ireland. Well, by the time you read this I’ll most likely be in Ireland. As I type this I’m on the plane from Seattle to Chicago, where my connecting flight is to Dublin. What’s in Ireland? Other thn the factory where the greatest liquid is created (Guinness) my father lives there now. Originally he was from Belfast, then 30 years ago or back to Ireland. Instead of living “back home” in Belfast, he’s about an hour north, in Ballycastle, a seaside town that’s almost like a resort. He’s come back to Seattle a few times, visiting family, but this is the first time since he’s moved back to Ireland that anybody has come to visit him.
Let me provide a little bit of background on my dad. He’s one of 11 brothers and sisters. Not all are alive at this point, but many of them are in Belfast, with a couple in Ballycastle. Also, at some point or another, about half of the family has lived in Seattle, where two sisters and two brothers still live. There is a major connection between Belfast and Seattle, specially with my father’s family.
And so I am going to Ireland to visit him. The timing is a bit weird, but it is the best there is. It would be nice to be able to bring the whole of my family, but that’s financially impossible. With my work schedule, Laura’s work schedule, and school, this was the only week that I could go. As it is, I’m skipping out on a day of work from my job as a crossing guard. The week that I’m gone is mid-winter break for Seattle Public Schools, technically a week off (but ask any parent of multiple kids, and there is no such thing). Laura doesn’t have work because of the school break, so she would be able to watch the kids.
Leaving Friday the 12, I have to be back on Friday the 19th, since Laura has class on Saturday the 20th for her Master’s program (getting a teaching degree with a reading specialty). This doesn’t give me much time in the country, but it’s enough for a nice visit. I’ve never been to Ireland, which is odd, considering that all of my brothers that were born in America have been at least once if not multiple times. My brother and sister that were born in Belfast, of course, go back every few years.
I considered flying into Belfast, but the tickets were $1300, which was just too much. I found a flight that gets into Dublin for $700. There is a regular bus that runs between the Dublin airport and Belfast – every hour. It’s fairly cheap as well, and since I wanted to visit Dublin as well, this seemed like an ideal itinerary.
I’ll fly into Dublin, arriving on Saturday the 13th at about 8:30 in the morning. I’ll catch the bus to Belfast… well, actually it’s a Coach. The distinction is that busses are for city travel and coaches are for regional/national transportation. I’m hoping to get through customs and baggage claim quickly (ha) and get a 10am coach. That would put me in Belfast at about 12:30.
This trip was originally going to be a surprise, but somebody along the way spilled the beans and my father knows I’m coming. This works out well since he’ll be at the station in Belfast when I arrive.
I have but two concerns for this trip. The first is my flight from Chicago to Dublin being delayed. A large storm has dumped inches upon inches of snow across the Atlantic states. While this doesn’t necessarily affect Chicago directly, airports have shut down, which sends a ripple effect throughout the country and world. While the worst of the storm seems to have passed, there is the fear of lingering travel problems.
My other fear is more of a concern than anything else. I worry (needlessly, I know) about finding the coach to Belfast from the Dublin airport. I would hate to miss it by a few minutes because I was wandering around the wrong direction then have to wait for another hour.
As I sit on the airplane between Seattle and Chicago, everything seems to be going well. the weather in Chicago is cooperating (so far) and I’ve been directed by a couple of people on where to go to catch the correct coach outside of the Dublin airport.
I suppose I should start worrying about my liver now…
The Pre-Ireland Conversation (Ireland Part 1)
As I’m getting ready for my trip to Ireland, my wife and I are in the kitchen going over what food there is in the house. As I do 95% of the cooking, this is sort of an issue that needs to be addressed, but not really a problem.
The issue really comes down to what Laura got to feed the kids. My 6 year old son has… constipation problems. My daughter (4) and younger son (2) don’t share this biological trait. As a matter of fact, give them some grapes, and the next day they have some big bowel movements. Déla is fine, but since Ciárán is 2 and still in the process of toilet training, he’ll fill up a diaper. And by fill, I mean FILL. Parents will know what I’m referring to.
As Laura and I were in the kitchen discussing her recent trip to Costco stocking up on supplies as well as preparing for having me gone, Ciárán comes up, opens the refrigerator and asks for some grapes. He loves them, as well as oranges. I’m glad that he loves fruit, as it will serve him well throughout his life. Of course, it does provide some large and smelly results.
So Ciárán wants some grapes. That’s not a big deal, is it? Considering that I also take care of 95% of the diaper issues in the house, it could be. I am not saying this to pump up my worth in the house, but there is a division of labor, and cooking and diapers are two of my bigger tasks. Food in and food out. To balance things out, I don’t do any laundry (and with as many kids as we have, that’s a very big job).
Since Laura is pregnant, her sense of smell is heightened. It’s a weird side effect, and I don’t understand it, but it’s there. Also, she is occasionally prone to nausea. Not the regular morning sickness, which she has had, but just general nausea. You have 400 pounds of baby shoved up against your stomach an see if stuff doesn’t fit in there as well as it should.
With me being gone, diaper duty naturally will fall onto Laura. This means she is going to have to navigate around her pregnant belly to clean up whatever it is that Ciárán doesn’t manage to get in the toilet. With grapes, that’s going to be quite a lot. On top of being logistically unwieldy, she’s going to have her heightened smell and nausea to contend with. I truly feel sorry for her. I informed her that she made a mistake in getting grapes at Costco because the end result will bee unpleasant. She acknowledged this, but there was nothing to be done at this point. We laughed as I told her she should let the grapes rot, rather than feed them to Ciárán. It’s a shame when you almost consider not feeding your kids fruit for toilet convenience.
Phamily Foto Phriday (2-12-10)
You might remember my blog post from earlier this week when I took the kids to the local fire station. Well, even if you don’t, here’s a picture of my three youngest up against the fire engine.
Bad Or Brilliant Parenting
The other day my daughter had a play date. While this isn’t exactly the most revelatory of events, in our house, it’s our older son August who gets most social attention. At 4 years old, Déla has made a few friends, but E (as I will refer to her as) is the first one that she has really had a connection with. August is 6, Déla is 4, and the rivalry has always been fierce between them, so when E came over for her first play date, August had to be right there.
Usually this isn’t a problem, as August and Déla are close enough in age that they can (and do) play together with each other’s friends rather well. This day, however, was different. Déla doesn’t get a lot of play dates, but she’s not a social misfit either. E, however, is the first friend that she has had that she has made a real connection with. We are really hoping they are accepted to the same kindergarten next year, the connection between these two is strong.
So E comes over, and Déla is extremely excited, and the two of them start running around. August joins in, pretty much as expected. A couple of minutes later, the screams of delight shift in tone. The three of them are running around the house, and August is getting a little rougher than he should.
I decided to take August out of the mix by seeing what movies were playing. He was taking over Déla’s play date, and I wanted to allow her to have her own time with this friend. I looked and found something that was playing close by and at an opportune time. And so this is how I took August to see Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakwel so that he wouldn’t continue to hijack his sister’s play date.
That’s right; I reward my son for being an ass and taking over his sister’s friend by taking him out. That’s how I roll as a parent.
Best. Post. EVAR!
You know what two things don’t go together well? Sort of like the polar opposite of peanut butter and chocolate? Nausea and hunger. I don’t get sick that often, and then when I do, nausea very rarely enters the picture. What sucks about this scenario is that I am perpetually hungry. It’s been very difficult to lose weight as I get older and my metabolism has slowed. I’m always hungry. Now I’m also nauseas on top of being hungry.
Right now I’m sick. I’m sick to the point where I can hardly think let alone get work done. This blog post is going to be written in about 2 or 3 minute bursts as I am able to muster concentration.
A couple of weeks ago my daughter missed a week of school because she got sick. Then she wound up giving it to my wife, who is pregnant. Some of you are well aware of that being pregnant and sick is a horrible combination. My poor wife has had a rough pregnancy (though not her worst) but involved a few months of serious morning sickness (though morning is a relative term). Now she finally gets past this part of her pregnancy and now has a massive head cold coupled with some stomach thing.
Now she’s given it to me.
Wow – started this on Friday, and as I write this now it’s Monday. I’m feeling better, but I am beat. Today has already been a long day, and it’s not even noon. I’ll try and wrap this up though before I completely lose focus.
Saturday my daughter was attending a birthday party a couple of blocks away from our local fire station, which was having an open house. After the party I took August, Déla and Ciaran to the fire station after picking her up. Fortunately, the kids have begun feeling better at this point, but I have been full on sick. What was cool about this fire station open house was that everything was open. The kids got to poke around the whole of the fire engine, try on helmets, and more. I even got to sit behind the steering wheel of the fire engine. I just wish I was feeling better so that I could appreciate just how cool it all was.
Maybe I should just end this and cut my losses. This blog post meanders around and sort of lost its meaning. Thing is, I should completely delete this and start over, because this is a really poor entry. Then again, this serves as an example of why I haven’t been able to get anything done in the last few days.
Phamily Foto Phriday (1-22-10 – late)
Yes, I know it’s Monday, and technically missed the day, but I wanted to just go ahead and post this up instead of simply waiting around for the next “Phriday” to post this picture. I mentioned that our friend Robert who is living in Argentina was in Seattle for a visit, and we’ve been having a great time. Many of our nights have consisted of playing cards, drinking wine and talking. Sadly, he leaves today, and hopefully it won’t be another 5 years before we see him again. Here is a picture of Robert with the family:
The Wall Gets Smacked
Writer’s block sucks. Maybe if I write about not writing (yes, I am fully aware of the irony) it might help me “break through” this. Sort of a “live blogging” or stream of consciousness type of thing, maybe if I put down my thoughts as they come out about my frustration, I can guide them into some sort of cohesive … something to help this derailed thought process train get back on the tracks.
Wow, this writer’s block is so bad my “go to” metaphors are sucking even worse than usual.
I have no posts or reviews to update the website with tomorrow. I have to have something, but nothing is coming out. It was tough over the weekend to get stuff written, but I attributed the lack of productivity to the hectic schedule of daily life. Most people look forward to the weekend, but I don’t, because I actually get less done on the weekend. This last weekend was even less productive than usual. Saturday I had an all day meeting for the Knights of Columbus. Sunday my local chapter held a fundraising pancake breakfast for the youth programs. In the afternoon I finally took down (most of) the Christmas lights from outside the house. Little time left to be able to sit and gather my thoughts, let alone get the writing done.
This morning as I sit, I try to start on one thing, and either can’t or fail to get past the first sentence. It’s a very frustrating prospect. The pressure to produce is giving me a headache, which itself isn’t helping any. I need to have something to update the website with tomorrow, and I have several reviews that are either past due or due.
Army of Two: The 40th Day (Xbox 360)
The Green Berets (Blu-ray)
Blog about PR (part 1 of several)
Thirst (DVD)
Guinness Book of World Records Gamers Edition (book)
500 Days of Summer (Blu-ray)
Super Friends Season One Volume 1 (DVD)
You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown (DVD)
Magnolia (Blu-ray)
Holes in my Shoes (DVD)
Blog post about new phone
Guitar Hero Van Halen (Xbox 360)
There are others, but those are the items I have to write up, as in now. Other reviews aren’t ready to be written because I haven’t finished watching the movie or played the game yet. Not like that isn’t a bit of a slouch as far as writing is concerned. And usually the movie/DVD/Blu-ray reviews are easier for me to write. I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time right now.
Most of the website is done by me, where I update the news by myself, and looking at the front page of the website (as I type this out) of the 28 items in the “features” section, 5 are not written by me. Why do I mention this? I don’t know. But I am keenly aware that I need to get something written and posted. Especially since today is a holiday, over the course of the 3 day weekend I should have more than one lame half-hearted attempt at an excuse of a blog post to show for it.
No, I’m not trying to generate sympathy, just work through my frustration, which is growing.
I don’t usually get writer’s block, so it’s especially debilitating and infuriating when it happens. I’ve written this blog post for over an hour now, and it isn’t helping. Maybe I should spend the rest of the day playing games and take tomorrow off to get stuff written up and start updating the website again on Wednesday. Unfortunately, if I do that, then I’m afraid I’ll just be delaying what I’m going through today and will find myself in exactly the same position. I think I was beginning to get writer’s block Saturday morning, but allowed myself to get caught up in the various events to sort of “excuse” it. It would be nice if I had somebody else to cover for me so that I could actually take a couple of days off to just play games and figure out where to go from here. The news won’t post itself and I have too many reviews that won’t get written if I don’t do them. Yeah, I know, I’m whining. Just putting down what’s in my head. Sorry. You shouldn’t’ have read this far anyway. This blog post is for me, not you. Go ahead and keep reading if you want though. I don’t know how it’s going to end.
Maybe I can write a little bit about how my other laptop has been “bricked” and rendered useless. Heck, that’s even dull to me.
I have nothing to say. Usually I’m fine with that, but in this case, I have several items upon which I need to not only have an opinion but convey it.
Well, not even a long shower, followed by a trip to go have breakfast for lunch cured my writer’s block. I’m still stuck several hours later. I’m afraid my next few reviews will just suck. I started writing this, for lack of a better term, blog post at about 8 this morning. It is now 2:30 in the afternoon, and need to get something done for the website instead of staring at the screen of my computer wishing that things would improve.
Stupid News
I’ve been reading online various rumors about Nintendo preparing a successor to the Nintendo DS. Plenty of speculation is being bandied about as to whether or not it is in the works.
Are you people really that stupid?
To even suggest that Nintendo isn’t working on a “next generation” handheld of some sort is sheer ignorance. Whether another iteration of the DS/DSi or a completely new device, you can bet that Nintendo is absolutely working on a new product. This is not news.
Guess what? Sony has the PlayStation 4 in the pipeline, and Microsoft has a successor to the Xbox 360 in the planning stages as well. It is absolutely stupid to think otherwise.
If you find the speculation of Nintendo possibly working on a new handheld newsworthy, you are an idiot. If you are running the speculation of Nintendo possibly working on a new handheld as a lead news item, your news department needs an overhaul.
Oh, and Nintendo might be working on a successor to the Wii. You heard it here first.
Phamily Foto Phriday (1-15-10)
Here’s a picture of (from left to right) Ciaran, August & Dela. This was taken Christmas Eve day, as we were waiting for the ultrasound to begin. Mom (my wife) is expecting our 5th chid in May. No, we don’t know the sex of the unborn baby, and won’t find out. At least, not until he or she is actually born. What I really like about this picture is how Dela is holding onto and looking at August.
What? Who’s That Behind You?
Apparently this week was some sort of big push to get blog readers to quit lurking and to say “Hi” or something in the comment section of whatever blog they read. For the most part, I didn’t take part in that ritual. If I read your blog, I’ll post a comment as I feel necessary, with an actual response. I understand why these bloggers need to call out to their readers, because the active readership according to the statistics don’t necessarily match up to the “front-end” activity.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to post a comment here just for the sake of posting a comment.
I started this blog because as a parent, as somebody who reviews videogames and home video, and as a music lover, I felt that I had something to contribute to … whatever. Turns out, I do, but that contribution I do have also winds up preventing me from blogging as regularly as I would like to. I’m talking about spending time with my kids, as well as working on this here website. I have plenty of ideas and topics (like why I’ll never buy any of my kids shoes that light up) but getting around to actually gathering my thoughts together let alone typing them out coherently is a time consuming process that usually takes a back seat to writing the reviews or trying to post the news.
What’s the point of this post? I’m not entirely sure to be honest. I want to acknowledge the whole “de-lurker” thing, as well as my role in the grand scheme of blogging (which isn’t much, I assure you I know). I also wanted to say “Hi” to whoever (or is it whomever) is reading this, I’m still here, even though days go by without any sort of post. I won’t make any false promises about blog posts every other day to compel you keep coming back, but I do want to try, even if it is just for me.
Big Day Saturday
Saturday was sort of a “big deal” in our house. Two major events happened. The first, and most important, is that Robert came over for a visit. While some guy named Robert coming over for a visit may not seem like that big of a deal, some background information may be helpful in understanding why. My wife and I have known Robert for about 15 years or so – we met while living in the same townhome complex. Robert eventually moved out of the country, then back, then out of the country again, and for several months even lived with us while he was trying to figure out his living situation. Then he moved out of the country for good several years ago. The last time we saw him was 5 years ago.
One of the jobs that Robert has is as a tour guide for a travel company (which I don’t want to name for a variety of reasons). Robert takes groups of people throughout Spain, one of the countries he has lived in, as well as Portugal, where he intends to move next. Every so often, tour guides are required by this company to attend a meeting on changes in the route, company policies, etc. While successfully avoiding this duty for a while, it has caught up with him and he needed to come back to this country and attend these meetings. While he is in the United States for work (and to attend a few personal matters, since he is still an American citizen) he is staying at our house.
So, having Robert, a close friend whom we have not seen in a long time, with few prospects of seeing him for another few years, visit is a big deal.
While this would normally be enough for most people, our Saturday was big in another way. I upgraded cell phone plans, to the point of having to purchase a phone. A little background on this might also be in order. I’ve had no problem signing contracts with a wireless carrier for a set amount of time in order to gain a preferred rate. Usually what I have done over the course of the last few years is get the best available free phone whenever I renew my contract or sign up for a new one. I never jumped on the iPhone bandwagon, partly because I don’t like iTunes and don’t want to use it, and also because I don’t want to ever have to go back to using AT&T for my wireless service (or anything else – but that’s another matter).
More and more my wife and I have been wanting more functionality out of our phones, such as using the calendar function to keep track of events, texting each other instead of leaving voice messages, and more. While it has been tempting to get an iPhone or something similar, I have resisted. That is until now.
The Motorola Droid looked great, providing a lot of the additional functionality that my wife and I were looking for, but most importantly, it was available for our wireless provider. Our wireless contract was up for renewal, and there was a special deal, where purchasing (at a discount) the Motorola Droid would enable a second similar phone to be free. Looking to upgrade, and the timing was right, and the prices were … well, not nearly as bad as they could be. I purchased the Motorola Droid for myself and my wife got the HTC Eris Droid.
It was a tough pill to swallow, but purchasing the phones feels like the right thing to have done. We were ready to move up in our technological use. As for myself, I was looking forward to possibly getting something similar to the Droid when it was first revealed, only dreaming wistfully that I might actually get the thing. Saturday afternoon I went into the Verizon store, asked about the package deal along with upgrading and renewing our contract early. It took some work, but I am not among the many people who have a phone that functions as more than just a phone.
While most people in my line of work, colleagues on both sides (both press and public relations/marketing) have had these types of devices for years, it’s new to me. Saturday all I wanted to do was browse through the marketplace and find various applications to download and install. I began to do so, but then I had to head to the airport to pick up Robert. I was equally excited to explore my new toy as well as visit with my friend.
It wasn’t until the next day when my wife and Robert went out to do some errands that I was able to spend some quality time exploring my new device. Much of what I am discovering may be “old hat” for many people, but it’s all new to me. I was able to transfer a song and edit the MP3 on my Droid establishing it for my ringtone. I’ve downloaded several local oriented applications, such as traffic cams, as well as some more entertainment oriented ones. What I’m really pleased with is that so much is available for free.
As I explore more of my new phone, I’ll most likely blog about it. Yeah, I might write a little about Robert’s visit too.
Avatar Thoughts
Can somebody tell me the difference between James Cameron’s Avatar and a “good old fashioned” cowboys and indians film? I’m not saying I was disappointed in the film (though I’m not sure it was worth $15 to see on a fake IMAX screen at the multiplex) but the film certainly doesn’t deserve to quite the slobbering mindless praise that it has gotten.
Let me get the biggest problem I have with the film out of the way. Unobtanium. Apparently humans have traveled the stars and are mining the alien world of Pandora for a very rare element. This is a plot device which is as old as … well, I was going to say “as old as the hills” but the hills have been strip mined. I have no problem with with story mechanic as the reason for the human’s presence on Pandora, but it’s the name of the element that made me laugh out loud in the theater. Unobtanium? Really? Why not call it McGuffintonium or McGuffinite? That would have been more original. (The more I think about it, the more I think it should be spelled “Maguffinite.) With so much thought and attention to detail that went into the making of this movie, this is what we get? What are we, 16?
There are plenty of other small bits like this in the plot that don’t make as much sense as they should (such as why the helicopter pilot played by Michelle Rodriguez is never admonished for abandoning her post during one of the big attacks), but most of those are easily glossed over. This is a movie after all, and for the most part the logic works. While there are themes that are present in Avatar that are reminiscent of a whole lot of other films and books. Heck, I don’t think James Cameron claimed to have come up with a completely original story idea, so let’s take that issue off the table. Almost every film made today is a variation on a theme that we’ve seen time after time, so originality shouldn’t be an issue here.
Where originality shouldn’t be an issue, being derivative is another matter. Certain plot elements of the story are clearly derivative. Then again, some of the films that people are claiming James Cameron of stealing from, are themselves, somewhat derivative. Sadly, Avatar is somewhat derivative, and as a result, predictable.
But damn if it wasn’t enjoyable to sit through.
Now, I spent $15 to see it in IMAX 3D at my local multiplex. I knew that I’d be paying more for IMAX, but not having been to an IMAX theatrical release since Fantasia 2000, I figured this might be worth the money. Since the multiplex that I was going to see the film at was very recently built (having opened less than 2 years ago) I thought that it might actually be technically up to the task. The problem I ran into was that the screen wasn’t actually an IMAX screen. Sure, the aspect ratio may have been true to IMAX specifications, but the scale, the sheer size of what I expect an IMAX screen to be, that wasn’t there. The bottom line is that if you want to see a theatrical release on an IMAX screen, go to an IMAX theater, not the local multiplex, no matter how new it was built.
I should have skipped the premium IMAX charge and just seen in on the regular screen in 3D.
I am sure that the film will be enjoyable on home video, but Avatar is certainly meant to be seen in 3D, the same way that The Wizard of OZ loses much of its impact when seen on a black and white television. I hope that James Cameron worked on some additional technology to translate his vision to home video.
Eight Days A Week
Eight Days A Week
Album: Beatles For Sale
Authorship: McCartney/Lennon (70/30 split)
This was a #1 hit in the United States, but not released as a single in the UK. Beatlesongs mentions that it may be the first song to use a “fade in”. Tell Me Why states “The components of the song don’t add up the way the actual performance does.” This is simply a standard issue song from a band, but somehow it is more than just a simple love song.
For today, I want to expand on the song’s title. While most hardcore Beatles fans understand that a week lasts eight days, some of the more casual fans or those that are new to the group might need to have it pointed out that “Eight Days A Week” is the basis for the new calendar math. It may take some prodding to understand just how prominently the number 8 features in the first half of the Beatles career.
Besides “Eight Days A Week” the original title for the film Help was to be Eight Arms To Hold You. Both the film title and song are completely unrelated. Those that have seen the film know where the title would have come from. As for myself, I am undecided all these years later as to which I think would have been better for the film.
Then there are the number of musicians who were part of the group. This might get a bit… controversial. While it’s no secret that Pete Best was kicked out of the group in favor of Ringo Starr, most don’t know who Stu Sutcliffe was. Those familiar with the band’s history will remember that Stu was the original bass player who left the band during the early days in Hamburg and died of a brain hemorrhage before the group hit big.
This is where think might piss off some of the Beatles faithful.
Andy White was a session drummer brought in to the studio at producer George Martin’s request. While Pete best had already been replaced by Ringo, it was felt there was still something lacking when it came to keeping the beat. He lasted one session, and can be heard on the group’s first single “Love Me Do” (and it’s B side “P.S. I Love You”). All three Beatles drummers are featured somewhere in the Beatles archive on this song.
Then we get to Jimmy Nicol. I’m still waiting for him to write a book about his experiences with the group. During the height of Beatlemania in 1964 Ringo took ill. Rather than take the time to rest, the band played Australia and New Zeland with a temporary drummer at manager Brian Epstein’s behest. For less than two weeks Nicol lived the high life with screaming fans, but as soon as Ringo was able to, he joined the group and retook his place on stage.
That’s eight. One could almost claim Billy Preston, but he is actually credited separately from the rest of the group during the sessions he participated in. John, Paul, George, Ringo, Pete, Stu, Andy & Jimmy. Eight days in a week, eight arms to hold you, and eight band members.
And this concluded my Beatles Week for 2009. I had fun with this exercise, and hope to do this again next year. Well, I suppose technically it would be later this year.
