I was working from home today and started to get cabin fever. Instead of sobbing softly over my usual home-made sandwich I decided to splash out for lunch. I glanced quickly over both shoulders as I entered – I didn’t want anyone to see me in the den of iniquity that would be providing my midday sustenance. I was getting a take-out meal at the new Boojum, which recently opened close to my house. Continue reading My journey to hell
I had no expectations of Reykjavik or Iceland. This is not a criticism – far from it. It’s just that I was in possession of very little knowledge about the country – save for its location on a map; a very vague knowledge of its settlement; the fact that it was volcanic; the name of its capital city; and that Bjork hails from this North Atlantic island. When WowAir did a last-minute flash promotion from Dublin to Reykjavik, I booked on a whim. Continue reading Iceland adventures
For my edification I went to the cinema last night to see ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in the eerie Odeon cinema at the Point (the cinema operating from the top floor of an abandoned shopping centre. This is the biopic of Farrokh Bulsara – the Parsi boy from Tanzania who moved with his family at the age of seventeen to Britain. He reinvented himself as Freddie Mercury, became the lead singer of Queen and conquered the world of music as one of the most talented and charismatic rock singers of all time. The film opens with Freddie pumping himself up as he readies himself to go onstage for the most iconic live performance of his career – Live Aid in Wembley Stadium in 1986. Continue reading Better out than in: Freddie Mercury and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody ‘
My train to Dublin was at 4.20pm. I was in town by 2.30. This was not an accident. I was on a mission. My intention was to visit the Limerick City Gallery of Art which is located about a hundred metres from the train station. This beautiful old building dates from 1906 and is located on Pery Square in the city. The exhibitions change every few months. So each time I am home I make a point to pay it a visit to check out the latest display. Continue reading Poetry corner: ‘Racing down the sun’
The Milk Market in Limerick is open for trade every Friday, Saturday and Sunday – selling an assortment of foods and clothing in a semi-sheltered environment. While it is not a fully indoors market like the English Market in Cork, it has for the past decade had a large canopy over it, to protect the traders and the punters from inclement weather. A very pleasant place. Continue reading Concert: Deacon Blue live at the Big Top
Very occasionally my employer will organise a talk on a topic that is not work related, but of interest to the staff. Examples include talks for the female employees about how to network, to advance careers in an industry that is largely male dominated, at the more senior level (which I didn’t attend seeing as I am of the male sex). Or about how to create a work life balance (which I didn’t attend as it coincided with the introduction of the working from home policy – on that day I was staring at the canal from my living room window.) I was present for today’s talk, and happy to attend. The title was ‘Let’s talk about cancer’, and featured as its guest speaker, an oncology nurse from a Dublin hospital. Continue reading The ‘C-word’
Thanks to the inclement weather, a walk in the park seemed unwise. A decision had to be made. I was not going to loll about the house like a sack of meal that Sunday afternoon. I put on my stylish anorak and headed outdoors. My first stop was to the coffee-shop near my house, where a caffeine-infused warm beverage (a coffee) was drank). Over the river I trotted. I was walking past Pearse Street Station on Westland Row when the skies opened. Into Saint Andrew’s Church I went for shelter. That’s one of the functions of a church I think. I was reading the history of the church on the plaque on the wall (built in 1832, three years after the Catholic Emancipation Act which legalised catholic churches, it is quite a splendid building in that gaudy catholic style). I was admiring the interior when a Polish priest approached me and told me that the church was closed. I departed. Continue reading Sunday, bloody Sunday
The Abbey Theatre (also known as the National Theatre of Ireland) first opened its doors in 1904. In 1925 it became the first state subsidised theatre in the English speaking world. To this day it receives funding from the Irish taxpayer to continue promoting and developing Irish theatre. Continue reading Theatrical: ‘Asking for it’
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’
One of my advisers informed me that the British Film Institute has an online media player, which contains a database of British films. These can either be rented or viewed for free. He then sent me a link to a film contained on the site, called ‘Roll on four o’clock’ that he thought I might appreciate. (Note that I do not use the word ‘enjoy’ for reasons that will be explained momentarily). Released in 1970 as a TV drama as part of ITV’s Saturday Night Theatre, ‘Roll on Four O’Clock’ was written by Colin Welland (who ten years later would win the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for ‘Chariots of Fire’). Set in an all-boys working class school in Manchester, the film concerns itself with Peter Latimer – an acned teenager who is the subject of homophobic bullying, because he’s not like the other boys. The all-male teaching staff are no support. With the exception of art teacher Max Fielder (played by Clive Swift, who’s better known as Richard Bucket – Hyacinth’s long suffering husband in ‘Keeping up appearances’) who tries to protect him from the machinations of his teachers and fellow pupils; and who tries to nurture the creative instincts of the boys. Fielder is an outsider also. Continue reading It’s grim up north: ‘Roll on four o’clock’
midnightmurphy 