BILAMBIL CALLING : THOUGHTS FROM DAVE ' THE BLOKE' OVENDEN

THOUGHTS AT DUN LAOGHAIRE PART 2

I then looked at the mirror; I didn’t like what I saw, so I crept back along the creaky floor, got back into bed, and read Buckowski’s Ham on Rye…Sometimes I was in and out of drifting, and didn’t get up again till noon…

We munch on a midday brunch, then were off to visit Bards bass playing mate Conner, to arrange for him to bow some long low upright double bass lines on the Lords of the Empty Ballroom takes…As we roll along by the river Liffy, I gaze to the right as Bard says that’s the pub that U2 own, and up there sitting on the top floor balcony I’m sure I saw, Bob Geldof and Bono playing chess, also Van the man with a drink in his hand, standing there looking on…

Then through the tough working class north side, out past the airport, on the road to Conner’s pad, and a cup of coffee

We chitty chats about this and that… Rave up a jam for sometime in the hypothetical future, then were on our way via the Internet café, a noodle through the supermarket and back to Rathgar…Bard heads off for a Saturday night, corprit type, production gig, while I knock up a one man meal of Bangers an Mash, then later I pours another wine, sits back comfortable on the sofa to watch the World Cup play off for 3^rd and 4^th place…Germany the host nation said goodbye to Portugal…Three one the home team won…

I then take a long lonely walk through the nighttime Dublin streets, checking out the late night ragers…The footpath at my feet as I shuffle back along to number 41, climb the narrow stairway, key my way in and lay me down to sleep.

Sunday today and this is the go…Were off to the huge Croke Park stadium to experience a Gaelic football final between Donegal and Armagh…so before we gets on the move, we sits ourselves back, nice an easy, sipping on a nice cuppa tea, and some crisp buttered toast spred evenly with that lovely black goo…Vegemite…Yum…

So…off we drives through the streets, till Bard jags a real good park, just a short walk from this hallowed arena, where those colorful Irish tribes, Hurling and Gaelic football it out, against them selves…

And with the crowd we sway in through the gate, climb the stairs, find our spot, and then were seated in the stand of this eighty thousand seater, with a thick carpet like green playing field below and it’s about three quarters full of a mob, all vibed up an making a lot of noise, proudly and brightly decked out in there colours…

The orange for Armagh…the green for Donegal…

Anyhow it was the orange that held onto the lead…

So, after the game me an Bard ooze our way along out of that place, with the happy sad faces of the people stepping along the Dublin streets…

But hey there’s another TV world cup final between the Frogs an the Wogs goin down tonight…

And it’s a big bowl of paster, a bottle of red, settle in on the couch, an were ready, not steady but ripe for the moment…

Ok so it’s an Italy v France thing, to be the round and golden football king…

A quick call on the game…Zidane slotted a spot kick penalty shot, off the cross bar and into the net…Frogs one up…then the Wog who got the whistle before from the reff, jumped up before the rest and from a corner kick glanced that ball off he’s head, an put it at the back of the net…

One all…well it stayed that way till the back end of the game, it was a tight affair…till Zidane flipped out an did a mad crazy Tilly Billy goat head butt, an dropped the Wog...

Well he got red carded and sent off in disgrace…

So it’s a penalty shoot out to sort it out…Frogs hit the crossbar Wogs hit the net…Italy wins the world cup…

The next day… I think it was a Monday; it was in the mid morning as I was strolling up the street to get the makings, chicken soup to slurp tonight, with chunks of a long thin, freshly baked, warm when I carried back home, loaf of that good tasting when ya slurping, bread…

So…as the soup is simmering, I’m lying flat out on the green grass out the back, soaking up the Irish summer sun, I’m flipped in the bliss and floating, it feels like the angels is kissing me all over…Then hey Bard’s back from work, we slurp the soup, it was tasty an good, so when the wine bottle was empty we hit the horizontal for some zeds…

Tue morn…I jump the bus from Rathgar to Rathmines and once again I fumble for me fare as I catch the bus drivers glare, so as I hand to him, I hope, the right amount of coins I says, ‘just think of pay day an it’ll be orright, and all will be worthwhile’, he looks at me over the top of his specks an says, ‘I be giving it all to me wife’, ‘well’ I says, ‘ya gotta pay for it some way’, ‘to be sure’, he says, ‘someday someway but not today, it isn’t pay day’…I find an empty seat an settle in for the ride, to lurch along and slide through the narrow winding suburban Dublin streets…

Rathy junction an I’m off that big moving thing, to deal with the sidewalk people on the street, and the motor traffic with the green light passing bye…Then into that big old stone, old fashioned old old post office, to post off some poems, and post cards to some people I know there in the southern land Downunder…After I slip my stuff into the slot, I step my way, one foot after the other, up the stone street, cross the other side when the green was for walk,

Tesco the supermarket zone, an I’m trecking the trip for a good euro type bargain, there lined up on the shelf…      

So up and down the aisle’s I go throwing and placing into the trolley lots of lovely foodstuffs to eat, now it’s time for the checkout, I cough up the Euros, and then I catch a sweet swinging sexy smile from that still good looking, only blowing a little smoke, slightly mature Irish biddy, at the cash register, she winks as her hand comes out to take the money, I puts on one of my best smiles, then says, ‘thanks’.

Then with me plastic supermarket bags full of goodies I mount the bus back to Rathgar…Then I’m sitting in the back yard goofing off…Bard comes home from work, cracks a can then announces, ‘that’s it I’m on holidays for the next month’, I raise me glass an says, ‘cheers’…We have a laugh…As the night time now moves on, we, that’s Bard an me, engage in a game of chess, to joust with the pieces and the variables that can happen on them 64 black and white squares…Now this isn’t no friendly match…It was a knock down drag em out affair, no quarter asked for no quarter given…So I comes out swinging, moving them pieces, getting good field position, then I throws a loose one, Bard thinks, then responds with a move that’s got me on the back foot, then with a zip and a zap he’s got my choice pieces in his pen…Anyhow to cut a long rave short, after a tight tussle, he got the mate…After I cork another bot of Jacobs creek, we tipple on over a few games of Chinese checkers, then with a swagger that resembles the wobberly boot, I stagger off to the cot, close the lids for shut eye, to snooze the night away and dream of many wild and wonderful way-out far-out flipped-out things…

So, the next day, well, we was both a little shaky, not to pretty and some what hung…

We just laid low, lying about reading and making cups of tea, sometimes watching TV; then we slept for tomorrow…

The next day drops in when the early birds start chirping…

The sky is blue and the sun is shining, so it’s up for a big swig of orange juice, a bowl of cornflakes, and a slice of toast spread with a layer of sweet tasting apple jam, and of cause a nice brewed pot of tea… Bard shoots off to acquire a drum kit, I workout with some paradiddles…This arvo were recording here at Rathgar, gunna try an grab a track or two for the Empty Ballroom takes…The first one goes down sweet, the other one, well like Keith Richard said to me once…It’s like photographing ghosts when you try to catch a groove…We press on, till we find ourselves sitting in the Comans corner pub beer garden, knocking down a big black, creamy topped, pint filled glass of Guinness…

It’s a sunny Saturday today; as we head off to take a trek along the winding track around the wind swept, cliff faced grassy slopes called…Howth Headland…And as were there the vivid purple flowers are blooming, the ferns are waving in the breeze, and down there on the water a fishing boat churns by, as the sea birds hover high…