I received a text on Wednesday night from a friend. She recommended that I haul my grizzled old carcass to the Complex on Little Green Street at my earliest convenience, to see Good Dog Theatre’s latest work – a play called ‘Men at play’. She thought I would enjoy it. Seeing as I am a person of easy persuasion (but very high virtue) I decided that Thursday evening would be the occasion I would attend. Continue reading To the theatre darling: ‘Men at play’
Being Irish, U2 is a band that has been totally unavoidable throughout my life. Since their international breakthrough almost forty years ago they have been inescapable on the musical and cultural landscape of my home country. Indisputably U2 is the most commercially successful musical act in Irish history. Even between musical projects, lead singer Bono has become a spokesperson and advocate for various global charity projects and initiatives. While I wouldn’t ever have been a massive U2 fan – they were a little bit too bloviatingly heterosexual for my refined taste – I tended to enjoy their songs and would sing along with gusto when they played on the wireless. In more recent years I developed a greater appreciation of them. Their song ‘Sometimes you can’t make it on your own’ was about the death of Bono’s father was quite beautiful. I still wouldn’t hold them in too high of an esteem but I enjoyed them. Continue reading U2: The Experience and Innocence tour
The weekend began at 3pm on Friday when I left my office in the wastelands on foot. My destination was a palace of consumerism – the Blanchardstown Shopping Centre. Anyone who knows me will be aware of my physical and psychological aversion to shopping. So you’d be forgiven for wondering why I’d choose to visit such a hellish place. Well The Mammy was in town for the day with The Sister, so we’d arranged to meet for coffee. They were only on a stop off at the shopping centre. Their final destination was the 7th Circle of Hell – also known as IKEA. I hadn’t the slightest notion of entering that offensive Swedish maze with them. It is closer to my house however so I thought I’d avail of a lift. Upon arrival I bid farewell to the family and wandered towards the traffic. I spent about quarter of an hour meandering around the car park, before finally exiting the grounds of IKEA. I walked in the direction of town. Upon arrival at a bus stop I saw that the next vehicle was due in nineteen minutes. Even though it was dark and rainy I continued. A night-time stroll in Ballymun was a novelty for me. I had never been in Ballymun before. Once notorious for its crime-ridden tower blocks, it has recently been on a mission to spruce itself up. I was taken by the smell of chip fat in the air. Continue reading Weekend with Murphy
Friday.
Voted for Michael D. Higgins in the presidential election. And voted to remove the ban on blasphemy from the Irish constitution. The nation agreed with me on both counts. Then I went for a pint with a friend in the local Korean bar. Left quickly as there was an office party present. Continue reading A bank holiday weekend
Yesterday evening, for the 2nd time this week I attended the theatre. For my delectation on this occasion, was ‘Fast Forward’ by Firedoor Theatre. Written by Jason Coburn – who wrote last year’s ‘The Lover’s Guide to Losing your Mind’ – this play was inspired by the ideas of the Firedoor Theatre Devising Group. Continue reading ‘Fast Forward’
The bank holiday weekend was the business. Continue reading Home for the holidays
‘Aren’t you in Limerick though?’
Actually I wasn’t. While it is certainly true that I had been contemplating a trip home on Friday to cast a 2nd vote in the abortion referendum, I had ultimately decided that I would not do this. My respect for democracy and terror of ending up in the slammer for the crime of voting twice was too great. I had transferred my voting registration from Limerick to Dublin when I move back to Ireland after fifteen years in the Netherlands. Yet somehow a voting card had been sent to both places. Continue reading Ireland says YES. Notes from the Castle
On this date three years ago I was home for a holiday in Ireland. I had come #HomeToVote in the same sex marriage referendum. I sprung from my bed early that Saturday morning with a feeling of trepidation. Living in the Netherlands I had been spared the toxic horror of the six month, public trial that the LGBT community had been subjected to during the campaign. Having arrived home a couple of days before the vote, I had managed to haul my bones around Limerick for a lunchtime leafleting campaign; and an evening door to door campaign. There had been a tension in the air, but nonetheless an air of cautious optimism. An unverifiable inkling that the country might be about to improve. Continue reading The necessity of ‘Yes’
After a three month sabbatical, I have decided that it is time that I remount my trusty steed and start driving once more. While I understand that, after my abject failure at my last test would indicate that the wisest course of action would have been to continue my classes on schedule. Regular practice is the means by which people obtain their driver’s licences. Continue reading Back on the saddle again
Like the wailing from the lost souls in hell, my alarm clock started ringing at 6.30am. For most daytime dwelling, commuter folk – particularly those with offspring – this is a normal time to start the day. Not for my good self. I have my morning routine, refined to a precision that would make an Olympian proud. A simple matter of misplacing my keys for thirty seconds can mean the difference between catching, or missing my bus to the grim, industrial wastelands of North County Dublin. Continue reading The wastelands on a snowy winter’s morning
midnightmurphy 