Old People and Clergy...
What are the chances, hoh? I scan the room from my vantage point at the back of Cork City Library, and there in front of me are more blue rinses than you'd see at a Harpic product launch. Oh, and the odd nun's habit just for good measure. They're sitting there, rapt, as a couple of actors perform a scene from Macbeth where Lady Macbeth and, eh, Mr. Macbeth are having what you could only describe as a fairly serious chin wag. I'm up next and my palms are sweaty. A quick scan of the book and, no, it hasn't suddenly happened that there's a huge swathe of text in Superchick that I can confidently read from to an audience like this. I'd done the 'standing in the bath' scene the previous night in UCC, but could only chuckle to myself at the idea of introducing Aesop to Sr. Murphy and her Octogenarian Society mates like this. I did preface my reading with the point that Shakespeare was no stranger to a bit of the bawdy and the ribald, but I think that only put them on high alert. Fair enough, at no point in my studies of Hamlet or the Merchant of Venice do I recall Rosencrantz or Antonio or anyone else tell another character to kiss his hairy fuckin beanbag. It was suddenly quite hot in Cork and me with no hankerchief to dab at my glowing brow.
Of course, it all went well anyway. The clergy seemed to disappear before I started to speak (maybe they got a quiet whisper from God telling them to call it a night). I also had some mates in the audience who led the giggles and about forty minutes after I started I was done and heading gratefully to the pub, my official engagements in Cork at an end.
Earlier in the evening I'd gotten a call from Society and Personal magazine, who wanted to interview me. Apparently this is a 'society' mag, but I only found that out later. Anyway, I spoke to the reporter in a pub for over an hour about pretty much everything. She might as well have been researching for a This is Your Life program! It was only afterwards that I found out she was doing a 1000 word article. She had enough material for a mini series! The point I'm making, I think, is that I learned something interesting. How an interviewee comes across in a written article is very much up to the reporter. Even though you think you're saying what you want to say, it's up to the reporters to put in or leave out what they want. In that sense you really are at the mercy of the other guy. Not a huge problem for me, obviously, but you can see how anyone from Jacko to Bono to Paris Hilton to Bertie can be make look or sound anything from a god to a complete arsehole through judicious use of the editing skills of the reporter or the slant of the publication he's writing for. Or, to put it another way, don't believe everything you read. Anyway, I think the article comes out in the June issue, so hopefully they'll be gentle with me.
I've got brilliant mates, and some of them drove from as far away as Mayo, Cavan, Tipp and all around Cork to say hello and give me a bit of support when I was doing my thing. Thanks guys - yur d best! It also meant I had some drinking buddies and so I stayed an extra night to sample the delights on offer. Tried the Beamish (good, but you wouldn't drink a van load), the Murphys (very very good) and the Guinness (hmm...Guinness) but by the end of Saturday night I was talking confidently but no doubt erroneously about rugby in the southern hemisphere to Sheila's brother Mick. As such, it was probably a good thing that the city shuts down at 2am and we were ejected onto the street before I embarrassed myself.
Quick note: Shite-talking about rugby aside, I think it's stupid that there's effectively a 2am curfew. Five past two and every reveller in Cork is out looking for a taxi home. I didn't see any trouble or anything, but everyone was having a great time (we were in a really cool bar called, I think, Bailey's) and then just got turfed out. For God's sake, why?? I haven't done much bitching about Ireland since I got back, but this is one area that sucks. I like to decide on my own when bedtime is and am allowed to do so in Tokyo, Sydney, etc. If I'm in a state the next day cos it was bright when I got home, well then that's my probelm. Moan, whinge, grumble.
So there you go - I'm effectively into my 'extra' week. There'll probably be more interviews to do, and of course I've got the tv spot to do later in the week, but the end of my book tour (let me just say that one more time while I still can...MY BOOK TOUR!!) is in sight now. What a feckin buzz, that's all I can say!
Met up with some old mates back in Dublin after pulling in to Heuston and found myself in McDaids for what was supposed to be a quick couple, but ended up being a good bit more than that. Then Bruxelles for a Blues session that was absolutely brilliant. There's a bit of life in Dublin yet!!!!
Oh, sales figures are starting to come in. Don't have exact numbers just yet, but sales are in the thousands and I'm now officially in the Top 100 in the country however these things are measured (it's not actually that simple apparently). Will keep you posted on all that and anything else that's going on of course.
Now...off to the gym. I've been a bit bold over the past few weeks and don't feel quite as chipper and svelte as I did getting off the plane!
Sla/n...
Of course, it all went well anyway. The clergy seemed to disappear before I started to speak (maybe they got a quiet whisper from God telling them to call it a night). I also had some mates in the audience who led the giggles and about forty minutes after I started I was done and heading gratefully to the pub, my official engagements in Cork at an end.
Earlier in the evening I'd gotten a call from Society and Personal magazine, who wanted to interview me. Apparently this is a 'society' mag, but I only found that out later. Anyway, I spoke to the reporter in a pub for over an hour about pretty much everything. She might as well have been researching for a This is Your Life program! It was only afterwards that I found out she was doing a 1000 word article. She had enough material for a mini series! The point I'm making, I think, is that I learned something interesting. How an interviewee comes across in a written article is very much up to the reporter. Even though you think you're saying what you want to say, it's up to the reporters to put in or leave out what they want. In that sense you really are at the mercy of the other guy. Not a huge problem for me, obviously, but you can see how anyone from Jacko to Bono to Paris Hilton to Bertie can be make look or sound anything from a god to a complete arsehole through judicious use of the editing skills of the reporter or the slant of the publication he's writing for. Or, to put it another way, don't believe everything you read. Anyway, I think the article comes out in the June issue, so hopefully they'll be gentle with me.
I've got brilliant mates, and some of them drove from as far away as Mayo, Cavan, Tipp and all around Cork to say hello and give me a bit of support when I was doing my thing. Thanks guys - yur d best! It also meant I had some drinking buddies and so I stayed an extra night to sample the delights on offer. Tried the Beamish (good, but you wouldn't drink a van load), the Murphys (very very good) and the Guinness (hmm...Guinness) but by the end of Saturday night I was talking confidently but no doubt erroneously about rugby in the southern hemisphere to Sheila's brother Mick. As such, it was probably a good thing that the city shuts down at 2am and we were ejected onto the street before I embarrassed myself.
Quick note: Shite-talking about rugby aside, I think it's stupid that there's effectively a 2am curfew. Five past two and every reveller in Cork is out looking for a taxi home. I didn't see any trouble or anything, but everyone was having a great time (we were in a really cool bar called, I think, Bailey's) and then just got turfed out. For God's sake, why?? I haven't done much bitching about Ireland since I got back, but this is one area that sucks. I like to decide on my own when bedtime is and am allowed to do so in Tokyo, Sydney, etc. If I'm in a state the next day cos it was bright when I got home, well then that's my probelm. Moan, whinge, grumble.
So there you go - I'm effectively into my 'extra' week. There'll probably be more interviews to do, and of course I've got the tv spot to do later in the week, but the end of my book tour (let me just say that one more time while I still can...MY BOOK TOUR!!) is in sight now. What a feckin buzz, that's all I can say!
Met up with some old mates back in Dublin after pulling in to Heuston and found myself in McDaids for what was supposed to be a quick couple, but ended up being a good bit more than that. Then Bruxelles for a Blues session that was absolutely brilliant. There's a bit of life in Dublin yet!!!!
Oh, sales figures are starting to come in. Don't have exact numbers just yet, but sales are in the thousands and I'm now officially in the Top 100 in the country however these things are measured (it's not actually that simple apparently). Will keep you posted on all that and anything else that's going on of course.
Now...off to the gym. I've been a bit bold over the past few weeks and don't feel quite as chipper and svelte as I did getting off the plane!
Sla/n...
posted by Steve at 12:03 PM
1 Comments:
The minister for whatever is proposing to overhaul the licensing laws shortly, but I don't think there's any danger of 24-hour pubbing happening any time soon. Principally, the catholic mothers of Ireland are up in arms lest the entire population turn into drunks.
I'm not sure how you'd tell, to be honest.
Oh, and the loudest complaints about any proposed changes tend to be the Vintners Federation, who apparently have no public relations department and who think that anything that will bring in more money is in some way bad for them.
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