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Showing posts from February, 2004

There’s Nothing Warmer than Irish Hospitality

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Step out of the cold and into the Hill of Tara. Not a stone’s throw from the Kamo River is a bar of warm ochre walls and deep mahogany wood tables. The bartender has just drawn an Irish clover into the thick cream of a Guinness and he’s setting it up beside two other dark pints.

A young couple with strong Irish brogue is in the midst of a heated argument I’ve joined in a thousand times, why our parents made us go to church. The real question is why we bother to discuss this topic. I suppose a good argument is as much an Irish past time as sipping golden Irish Whisky. A band with no less than eight members is ignoring the people in the bar and rolling through a beautiful Irish melody. The flutes are high and quick. The violins whine together and the guitar keeps jumping up just to be noticed.
Over cigarettes and half drunk pints of beer the young couple’s conversation roamed from troubles with reading Kanji to who was Jesus and what is Hell. The band got louder and someone started to p…