Mike, St. Patrick, and Haley: The Top 5s

(Casey, one of the girls in the Community Arts program in Dublin, decided to catch me at a lower moment with this photo-op. Seeing that it's one of the only St. Patrick's Day photos I have on my computer at the moment, I have decided to share it. More will come, mind you. For now, you'll have to be satisfied with me wearing a ten-year-old's guitar and a primordial dwarf's leprechaun hat... why I didn't just say "a leprechaun's leprechaun hat", even I am unsure of).

Top 5 Things About Spring Break With Mike Plantan:

1. Golfing In Howth -- For economic reasons, we decided to do the 12-hole short-course (or as we referred to it, The Not As Manly Course... we might have been a bit more derogatory. Boys will be boys.), but the view was incredible, a few pars were sunk, and the afternoon was relaxed. I had a rough first go of it teeing off, but eventually found my stroke and worked my way to a very admirable sister-kisser -- er -- tie (Mike might take that expression a bit too literally: he has never hidden his plans to wed Pegeen and offically be made a Lamb). The tie was fine by me, seeing that, realistically, it was the best-case scenario for me when golfing with Mike. We had to ration our golf-ball output, which proved to be more difficult than anticipated because we were both drinking relatively large bottles of Slice throughout the afternoon, if you catch my drift. My personal highlight was losing a ball into some heavily-thorny bramble (which referred to as "The Devil's Nether-Regions"... again I might be using a euphemism), and not only was I able to locate it, but battled against the branches and enured a lifetime's worth of splinters in order to successfully achieve it.  In the clubhouse after, we enjoyed a pint and some better than average bar food, and it was the most content in our seven years of friendship I had ever seen the fella. It looked a little something like this. Hiking the trails afterward was just gravy, and, as we know, I don't use that term lightly. 
2. Celebrating International Women's Appreciation Day at Gogarty's: Mike really brings out the best in me, as does live music. When you put the two together, it tends to be a near-lethal combination. When Mike took me out for my birthday, the night ended with me sitting in the bathtub with my feet over the sides (balance is incredibly undervalued, in my opinion), waking up my entire family in the process (I vaguely remember Pegeen screaming "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?"). The week before I left for Dublin, he and Daisy Donohue had gotten me up onstage at the piano bar under the misconception that I was leaving for 'Iceland', which, of course, we played up to no end. A worthy member to be included in this trilogy was International Women's Appreciation Day, which landed on March 8th this year. I gave him a tour of a couple places in Temple Bar while we killed time for the music to start, eventually meeting up with Olga, Amy and Dianne (three of the other six playwrights), who didn't mind being appreciated with a couple pints (to their credit, they deserve it). I kept up my tradition of Irish stepdancing, and was asked to "learn" some Spanish girls who wanted to be shown how it's done (absolutely the last thing that I needed was a vote of confidence). The gang also did their part, apparently well enough for Mike to overhear an Irishman say to his wife, "Jaysus. Michael Flatley would be shittin' himself." The night concluded with a sing-along back at our place, with me playing until my fingers bled (which only took, like, two songs, since I cut my finger open mid-song -- and still had the stage-presence to finish. Terry Westerman would have been proud). I guess it goes to show that when women feel appreciated, the world seems to run a little smoother... Too bad we have to wait a whole 'nother year before that happens again! (Kidding, of course: I can see my mom's face as she reads that, which warranted a disclaimer. Granted, I also saw my dad's disapproving laughter, which is why it wasn't altogether erased: that's sort of an insight into the moral conflict I have to wrestle with daily. Now you know my Hamletian struggle).  Anyway, great day. 
3. Seeing Tom Stoppard's "The Real Thing" at the Gate Theatre: First show at the Gate, and I enjoyed it very much. We were the younger than the median age by a good forty years, I think, which was interesting. He's a smart playwright, that Tom Stoppard, which had to've made it a stretch to write a play about the tribulations of a smart playwright. It is always nice to have the question posed, "Isn't love wonderful?", and he does it well enough to have it not necessarily be rhetorical. So there's my sixty seconds of pretentiousness. Anyway, I liked it.
4. The Jameson Distillery Tour -- Based on the pre-tour cheesy informational video, you would have thought John Jameson was a decorated war hero or something, judging by "how brave" he was to distill his whiskey three times instead of two. One of my favorite moments was Jameson's cat, who used to catch mice around the distillery and was honored by the family when it died by being stuffed and put on display. Honsestly, on the list of top-five creepiest things I've ever seen, it's definitely an Honorable Mention. Mike was chosen to taste-test between Jameson, Jack Daniels, and Johnny Walker. After "correctly" choosing Jameson as his favorite (he lied), he was presented a certificate stating that he was a capable whiskey-tester. Since I am not able to be at Mike's graduation in May, I treated the ceremony as though he was being handed his diploma, bursting into an abrupt round of applause. A few people even joined in, not even knowing why. Needless to say, I was very proud. 
5. The Dublin Writer's Museum -- We decided that, for me, the phrase "Dublin Writer's Museum" was the equivalent to the phrase "Candy Chocolate Pancakes". 

Honorable Mentions: 

• Charlie II Chinese Food -- Mike for some reason placed this run-of-the-mill fast food Chinese restaurant on his list of things to do. Turns out, it was a run-of-the-mill fast food Chinese restaurant. So my question is, if you receive exactly what was advertised, regardless of personal expectations, do you still have the right to be disappointed? (I've asked my now-ex-girlfriend this very question, by the way). 
• Rooftop conversations -- Turns out, on top of being a great guy to be around, Mike's also a great guy (Take that, Benilde-St. Margaret's school newspaper, which published an article labeling him "Crap Date Mike", after Stephanie Geerdes went home from the winter formal less-than-satisfied). 
• Lunch for breakfast, dessert for lunch... dinner for dinner. I know what you're thinking, and yes, we are that crazy. Would I do it again? I don't know. Am I glad that I tried it? Absolutely. 

Top 5 Things About St. Patrick's Day in Dublin:

1. The Parade -- Bands, floats, music... All of the plusses of the Thanksgiving parade but of a more intimate size and much, much warmer. What a great way to spend the morning / early afternoon. 
2. Barbeque at Tommy Graham's -- Tommy grilled up some chicken, sang us an "abridged" epic tune (maybe 5-10 minute) a capella, and disappeared to the pub before we could say goodbye. His kids, 10 and 7-year old twins, were chips off the old block, (Tommy's oldest played "The House of the Rising Sun" on his guitar -- because it was the only one he could remember all the way through) and his wife was an incredibly nice hostess. Other families were there as well, and made for a great atmosphere. Erin joined the eight-year-olds on the trampoline, Jake and I butchered half of modern music on the guitar while trying to lead a sing-along... it was just too good.
3. The Pint of Guinness you somehow manage to get in the overstuffed pubs: I told myself I had to have at least one on the day. Turns out it's pretty much the same, except less elbow room and more elbows while trying to get it. I guess that mad it all the more rewarding. 
4. The unfortunate state of affairs crowding the streets around 2 AM -- Take the dramatic hilarity of the worst college party ("No! Nnnnno, Jaasssson! Jaasssonn I'm surrrrrrrry. I'm surrrrrrrrrrrry, Jassssson, I'm jus-- my feet hurrrt...."), multiply it by fifty, add about nine other countries represented ("No! Nnnoo, Juuuuuuuanita! Juuaaaanita, lo ssssssiento!"), and then force them out onto the streets. Some of the best people-watching I have ever experienced. 
5. The pride of being Irish -- Self-explanatory. 

Honorable Mention:

• The big dumb oversized felt leprechaun hats that were selling like hot-cakes. Okay, it's one thing to be wearing them in celebration of the day in a party situation. I'm all about that. It would be the times where I would walk by an Indian restaurant and see a guy sitting by himself and absentmindedly poking at his chicken tikimasala with a depressed look on his face that made me want to knock on the window and say, "You need to take that hat off, right now, or no one is going to want to be friends with you." I refrained, but the guilt haunts me. 

Top Five Things About The Long Weekend With Haley:

1. Seeing the World Premiere of Sam Shepard's play "Ages of the Moon".  -- Easily, the best use of of a ceiling fan as a character that I've ever seen. Two-man show with Steven Rea and Sean McGinley, kind of like a middle-aged True West, except instead of smashing typewriters they just sit on the porch and drink whiskey. Been looking forward to it all semester, and it didn't disappoint. We saw Sam again, by the way (not peeing this time) taking a cigarette break outside of a pub... at 10 in the morning.  
2. The Dublin City Zoo -- THEY HAD A TAPIR! I had grown fond of tapirs because of the one at the Minnesota Zoo. (Haley did an amazing job at recreating them). I had yet to see another, and Dublin had three of them. The Tanning Orangutans and Gorillas also put on a good show, and the day itself was the warmest of the week. You have to walk through Phoenix Park to get to the zoo, which was lovely enough for Haley to dub it "like Idaho". In fact, almost every beautiful place that we saw, it was compared in passing to her hometown of Boise. We even saw Idaho's state bird, state flower, and governor on the trip, now that I think of it. Since all I really know about Idaho is Larry Craig and Napoleon Dynamite, you can see why I might be a little skeptical. But if any of you can't manage the flight to the Emerald Isle and you're looking to get away, consider it Plan B. 
3. Sitting on the rocks looking out at Galway Bay -- "Picturesque" would be a suitable way to describe it. Of course, when I pulled out my camera, the batteries were dead. Haley created an artistic rendering of it, however, so you all could get the picture. We decided to spontaneously hop an early bus to the west on Saturday, forging the 3-hour ride to spend the afternoon along the beach.  We ate dinner at an Italian red-and-white-tablecloth-type place called "Fat Freddies" and listened to the roar of the rugby fans as Ireland cemented it's grand-slam victory (meaning that it went undefeated in its five-game season, apparently a great rarity). We killed time waiting for the late bus back in a hotel lobby that sort of reminded me of somewhere, I can't quite put my finger on it. This made me miss New York, since wandering into hotel lobbies like we had business being there was one of Haley and my most popular pastimes. (Side note, don't try to change the lyrics to "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay", even to make the applicable parody "Sittin' On Some Rocks By The Bay", because this girl loves her some Otis Redding).
4. Cutthroat Scrabble Wars -- A significant cluster of dinosaur bones were found this week in Montana. On an equal plane of discovery, I found a Scrabble board in my room. Haley, get this, had never played Scrabble. Apparently too busy counting all of the flying pigs clouding up the Idaho sky. After walloping, and I mean walloping, her the first two times, she managed to squeeze out a victory in the final round. I wonder if she's coping with a standing record of 1-2, since, as I've been told on several occasions, Hepworths don't lose. Consider the Fates defied. 
5. Styling Haley's hair -- What can I say? I have a gift. I don't want to say that I've found a fallback, should this whole writing thing not work out... but okay, you've twisted my arm. I have nearly mastered the Aileen Wuornos look but, like a fine wine or trying to renew your driver's license, these things take time. 

Honorable Mentions:

• Sitting in on Michael West's rehearsal -- It was great to see my playwriting professor work on developing his new play, and especially fun since his wife is the director. The two are part of the theatre company The Corn Exchange, which develops and performs plays for The Dublin Theatre Festival. The process, in a nutshell, is that Michael makes an outline for the play, Annie (his wife, who actually went to NYU) guides rehearsals with the actors (who are allowed to experiment based on what they know of their characters and the basic plot), by calling out different styles, side-coaching, and even playing a small drum set that sits in front of her. Then Michael takes what's been done in rehearsals and goes off to write the play, and two months later they stage it to be performed in October. It was really a treat to see your teacher at work, and I think Haley (an acting major in the David Mamet-founded Atlantic Theatre Company studio) enjoyed it just as much. Michael, of course, asked Haley how much I was paying her to hang around me for the week. The heckling never ends.
• Creating my alter-egos -- My favorite of which is "The Bovine Helix", the persona (created from consecutive Scrabble words) that I would use should I ever go into professional wrestling. The costume is a cow with bionic qualities (which Haley is designing) that best executes my killer wrestling moves, such as "The Cow-Tow", "Hoof-in-Mouth", and "Udder Insanity". Other personas include Jerry La d'Racula, a Vampire who, instead of seeking out victims, decides to spend his evenings honing his craft as a standup comedian (I'm tapping into my role of Sven Ghouli from the Pleasant Avenue Players as inspiration). Obviously, he is terrible, relying on his catchphrase "I mean, Vaaaaaaat is the Deeeeeeal?" to transition him from joke-to-joke. We're thinking of developing it into a one-man show, working title: "Vamp". This sort of came into fruition when I yelled "You Suck!" to a cheesy Vampire in the St. Patrick's Day Parade... The final one is Scatman, a talented Jazz singer who has never quite made it to the top because of his irregular bowel movements.  As you can see, on top of having a fun week, we were also very productive. 
• Late-night pizza by the Liffey -- We had put off dinner for, admittedly, too long. When it came time, I kept talking up all of these great places, only to have them close as we arrived up to them. What had to have been the last remaining place open in the city was Apache pizza, and even there they were only selling slices through the express-window (of which we snagged the last two slices... score?). It actually turned out to be great: I got to show her O'Connell Street and all of its historic landmarks (thank you, Tommy Graham), and sitting at the river turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. I mean, it was no Idaho, but...
• Our steady diet of blue mints, pocketed tea packets, and Cadbury chocolate. Like I said, sometimes mealtimes fluctuated. I will, however, say that there was not a time throughout the entire week that we were deprived of any of these three elements. I know I don't need to say this, but when Haley left on Sunday, there was certainly a noticeable absence... she had taken the last of the blue mints. 

Katie and Tim are headed to the airport in less than 30 hours from now. I believe a trip to the Guinness Factory is on the docket for Friday afternoon, Then they're off to do their own thing while I head to the Aran Islands on a field-trip overnight. We reconvene back in Ol' Dubs for a couple days before they fly home next week. Then London. Then Kathleen / Easter. Then Chelsea in Seville. Then Chelsea here. Then May. Then parents. Then home. Now that doesn't sound so bad, does it? All I'm wondering now is who's going to write the rest of my play. These are not the worst dilemmas to have, I suppose. Spring has certainly sprung in my state of mind: Everything's looking like Idaho.

Until next time,

D

PS -- Follow me on Twitter, if you're so inclined. They'll be more frequent, more stream-of-conscious, and might help some of you blog addicts coughGrandmaKaycough as you wait for me to do more things, so I don't have to keep making them up and then saying that my camera was dead. XO