UKELELE FOREPLAY
Who knows what, and my
friend Danny is fifty today.
He thinks he's an old-time
roller, but really he can
hardly play. I'd wish lots
more for him - after this
day! We met once, only
that, at Jonathan Swift's
Hibernian Lodge. He'd
come all the way over
here from Britain, for a
Beatles' Fan Club Convention,
the British faction of which
he was President. I was
with another friend too,
and we all got so drunk
we forgot to stand.
-
Old guys were hanging
around the bar, reading The
Irish Times and other Irish
newspapers, raging about
soccer, or screaming about
life. Boy, it was tough. I
was almost afraid to talk,
not knowing what things set
them off - Manchester this
or hat. Pass the hat. Another
dead Irish cop with a family
in need.
-
I forget the year this was, but
maybe about 2000. That would
make Danny about 21, which
doesn't sound right. But, whatever.
For me it no longer matters; all
things. after a while, have a way
fading into some general (and
genial) background of other
events you just no longer can
tap into. Memory's a fog, and
screw that too.
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