Drinking Consultants

If you are still following this silly blog of mine (btw- i swear off doing this project ever again-way too much effort required), this will be the last post from what turned out to be a fantastic trip. However, I realize that i must now deal with the proverbial elephant in the room -- and that is the stereotype and lore of the Irish people drinking a lot.

But like i stated at the very beginning of our trip and this blog: I'm not going to waste your (my) time trying to defend my people. Sure, I could come up a bunch of stories of famous Ireland inventions (like Guiness beer in 1778) or conquests (like King O'Brien kicking the asses of the nomad the Vikings in 951) or economic improvements (like the 12% corporate income tax that has attracted business in 1995) or the...

Sorry, I digress.

But the hard truth of the matter is: Drinking is the one Irish stereotype that would be hard to undo. After touring this big green island for a good solid week, i can personally attest and confirm for you there are a lot of pubs in Ireland and the Irish are really quite good at drinking.

Allow me to give you an example. It's Wednesday morning, and we stop in this small town, Adare, where the girls are getting ready to do some shopping:
(Is it just me; or does Wendy have a look like she's done this before to you, too?)

With the girls now focused on spending some Euros, Dave and I are like, "Okay. We'll go grab a pint." The pubs generally open up around mid morning. And it's not really hard to find a pub over here; theres like frickin' 8 pubs in this tiny little town. We choose the orange one on the corner. This place is over 200 years old:

We saunter in and i notice we're the only ones in there on this wednesday morning, except for another customer. Now, take a look at the only other customer we find.

Thats right: It's a nice quaint 90-year-old Irish gentleman and his wife (she's patiently waiting for him) to enjoying a pint of Guinness at 10am in the morning. Like he probably does every GD day! Now you see? THAT'S someone who's good at drinking.


So this old guy is pretty cool and lets me take this pic while im trying not to laugh too hard. We try to converse but his gaelic accent is literally so strong its hard to understand what he's saying.




Meanwhile, the pub owner has cued up our pints of Guinness:You notice he is proud to introduce us to his grandchildren. And what you may also detect about this photo is something unique i began to understand about the Irish and their pubs: its a place where people in the many small towns in the land go to gather with friends and family. In America, you go to a bar to meet (single) people or invite friends over to your house to socialize. Here in Ireland, you meet up with friends and families in the local pub. This is where the Irish go to gather; young and old. Many pubs today are a grocery store, a restaurant and then also have a bar in the back. Pubs date back to the middle ages where people gathered to tell stories, sing and exchange gossip. Probably one of the best things about pubs is: it pissed off the British so much they attempted to deem them illegal in the 19th century. (Yeah nice try, Gov'ner.)



Question. Would this innocent little history lesson be enough to overcome the stereotype of the Irish being drunks for you... I mean after all, they gather in pubs and there just happens to be alcohol there, right?


Nah.






Anyway -- and we did see a few characters:

"Top 'o the mornin' to you. Might ye spare some change?"

"Feck"








No. I did not stop in here.









After a while everyone got into the act. (No, that is not a beer Owen is holding in his hand.)



However later on you can see a problem developing: things start getting a little blurry and you really dont care if you get the right amount change back. You just feel the need to order more Irish Car Bombs. Yikes.




This photo i took after we ran into this Irish lad who had been drinking all day long with his friends (like 15-16 drinks or something) and was gleefully open to proving to me how racked he was. So i popped one Euro coin in the Breathometer for him. And he blew a score of 738. His buddy slapped him on the back with pride. He apparently just missed his career high of 780-- which like translates into blowing a 2.6 on a roadside test if you are a big heat-on living in America.




Just to compare. I had maybe 4 pints of Guinness that afternoon and a Car Bomb, and had to try the Breathometer. I blew a score of only 110. So our Irish friend had something indeed to be proud of. Those guys laughed hard and gave me a lot of s--- for being a such lightweight, believe me.




To wrap up, I will leave you with one of our favorite photos. Its a shot i had to wait and wait to take (so he wouldnt get pissed at me for candidly taking his picture) while he sat there with his buddys all afternoon watching the British Open on the telly. Its of this older Irish gentleman sitting alone at a pub in Lahinch. The bar stool next to him is empty; as his friends have finally all gone home. But he's like: "Hey, screw those guys-- I'm going to take my sweet time and finish my pint of Guinness."



Slainte!

Shout for joy! If you get the chance.

If you hold on to the notion that Coldplay, Pearl Jam or maybe even Springsteen is the greatest act right now, just hit the backspace key and close out your browser session. Because, this isn't the place for you.

But what I can tell you is that what we witnessed was pure Joy. If you love music. Over 85,000 people were in absolute frenzy as the lads from Ireland just absolutely blew away the audience with an incredible show! My only regret is; that i could not have each and every one of you along with us. I really missed my best friend Kris (and wife Heather) and so many of you i would have loved to have had the chance to share what we experienced. At the end of the show, many fans who were standing next to each other could be seen hugging and exchanging handshakes. It was that great.

First take a look at the stage, which you can see is absolutely staggering in scale:

Shut the f$%# up!

Yeah apparently some people are now critical of Bono for his extra large "carbon footprint". Heard that David Byrne said something about it being "wasteful". Lol! Hey David-- what have you been up to since the Talking Heads? Oh.

Believe me: All this global warming worry stuff will be over in a while after the sun returns back about 1 degree to its normal temperature. Plus, you know that Bono talks to God anyway, and if it were a problem he would let us know.

Anyway, we were in complete awe when we first walked in and saw this 184 foot high four-legged monster they call "the Claw". I call it the biggest stereo system in the world; with its huge stacks of loudspeakers pointing down in all directions as the sound is real loud and perfectly clear. But, "the Claw" is much more than just speakers and a stage. Taking 52 trucks to carry and a fulltime staff of 550 stage hands to set up, "the Claw" weighs in at 56 tons! Maybe the best thing is its insane 360 degree video screen:Forget your contact lenses? No problem. Edge and Bono in stereo rotating around 360 degrees on "the Claw's" jumbotron...yeaaah baby! At this moment, i don't think too many fans were concerned if U2 had purchased enough "carbon credits".



So the pre-show starts auspiciously. We were down on the floor about 10 people back from the catwalk that circles around the stage. Not bad, but not good if you are short and have tall people in front of you. I had to put Owen up on my shoulders for a several songs so he could see the stage.

Anyway, the fuse to light the start of the show is here now: the playing of the song "Space Oddity" by Bowie. I was never a huge fan of David Bowie, but some of the fans know this is the song to mark the final countdown before U2 takes the stage-- and they begin singing the lyrics. Ground control to Major Tom...Ground control to Major Tom... Meanwhile, there is an incredible electricity building amongst the 85,000 in the audience, as I am looking up at the massive "Claw" that is really beginning to resemble a rocket ship preparing for liftoff! Finally, the band comes out. Larry Mullen on the drums. Adam Clayton on bass. The Edge on guitar! And... i tell you this as a metaphor, Bono comes out as the Lion King of this crazy rock and roll jungle, roaring at the crowd, more pumped up than any of us for this moment, and roars into the song "Breathe"...and we have lift off. The volume intially is unbelievably crazy loud you can feel the bass through your chest and Edge's guitar and Bono's vocals race through your head... but the sound is perfect, and the feeling is pure Joy. (here is a link to a video)



Many of you are aware (how could you not?) that our son Owen was pulled up on stage by Bono in Philadelphia 4 years ago and was given his signature rose tinted sunglasses. Well, Wendy makes up this crude sign for Owen to hold up that says "Hi Bono its me Owen from Philadelphia. Thanks for the glasses!" I was like, that is going to be stupid and a waste of time. We may not get that close to the stage and Bono may not see the sign. He's on my shoulders here as the third song ends as Bono is out on the circular catwalk coming near us:I'll be damned if Bono finishes the 3rd song "Magnificent" (btw- a great song from the new album), and pauses to take in the crowd. Bono surveys around and squints to read Owen's sign. Does a double take, looks back at him, points to Owen with his hand acknowledging him, then saying in his Irish brogue, "It's all-right, Owen?" (Meaning: We're playing all-right up here for you Owen?) Pretty cool. Everybody in the crowd around us is like, WTF!--and is wanting to know for a moment just who is this 10 year old kid?
The show goes on as darkness sets in, U2 does a tribute for a woman Aung San Suu Kyi, imprisoned in Burma for peaceful protest for 13 years. You are reminded that a U2 show is always about love and peace. Songs like "Where the Streets Have No Name" and "With or Withou You" follow. It was majestic that night.

Here we are seen coming back to earth after the show.

We file out slowly onto the back streets of city. You walk in a throng through the neighborhoods of Dublin and you pass the many Pubs that are still open. How else would this hugely Irish day end; time to get a pint?

On Friday, we go to Dublin... and Sharon Campbell is BAD

Friday morning, we leave the beautiful Irish countryside of small towns and lonely sheep, to go to Dublin.
Normally this trip would take you about 2 hours to drive from Limerick to Dublin. That would be if we compare to driving in an America where we have turnpikes and freeways. However, in Ireland, they have narrow two lane roads which extends across much of the country. So it takes a while to drive by small country towns, to limp behind dairy trucks and other small-engined automobiles-- at speed limits of 80 KM Per Hour. Let me convert this for you: 80 Kilometers Per Hour = 42 Miles Per Hour. Not exactly Johnny's ideal driving speed.

But what kind of makes driving fun over here is: Roundabouts.
Using a european roundabout is so much better than sitting at an American traffic light. Number one, you are moving not sitting. Number two, you can roll all the way around again in a circle if you're not sure which route to take and check over the signs. You do feel like a donkey, driving around again for another full loop, looking at the signs, but hey- i have time. Number three, you can improve your position against other cars in the roundabout; lots of passing opportunities exist here. Here's a shot of me passing Dave Van Ommeren and getting inside position against him and on other Irish drivers in a roundabout:Textbook technique. You could almost think of (well, i got to think about) euro roundabouts as a mini-NASCAR event. You try to get your front fender under another car, in front of another Irish driver, on a roundabout-- and you take that position. "He did not hit you, Paddy, he rubbed you. And rubbin' is racin." Right, it's a bit childish. But i had to do something to amuse myself on the 3.5 hour drive at an average speed of 42 mph all the way to Dublin. Remember, i am driving that proud American machine with the bowtie on the front grill; a Chevy Epica. This thing drove so badly its nickname was the E-Piece-Of. Oversized for euro roads, sloppy steering, poor brakes, low power and only one cupholder. The boys at General Motors must have been like, "I've got an idea. Let's rebadge a Malibu, and sell it in Europe. Europeans might just like an America car thats too big to park and gets below average gas mileage. Yeah it'll cost money to put the steering wheel and controls on the other side of the car, but so what? We're GM." I swear to you, my Chevy must have only 1 of 300 sold in all of europe, as we didnt see another E-Piece-Of all week.

We finally make it to Dublin. Check in to our hotel. Feed our American faces with some more food. And, finally, we get ready to go see a outdoor rock concert featuring some band called U2.
Now, if you know our good friend, Sharon Campbell, you already know she's a big U2 fan. And she likes to, after a few glasses of wine, sometimes sing U2 songs. Which is okay, because generally the rest of us have had a couple glasses too, and, she is actually is a good singer. Her favorite song: BAD. And i promised not to tell her if U2 performed her song, made famous by U2 at the Live Aid Concert 20 years ago. You didnt hear it from me Sharon, but i rumor is U2 performed BAD here in Dublin, and that it was freakin' awesome.One of the most fun part of going to see U2 in thier home town of Dublin Ireland is the long walk through the city of Dublin to the massive rugby/soccer stadium called, Croke Park. You're walking through older neighborhoods along with thousands of other fans, from England, Spain, Amsterdam, America, you name it-- stopping to enjoy pints of Guiness with the good local Irish people: Once we got inside of Croke Park stadium, it was hard to believe how big the stage is. More on that soon...

Castle golfing

Today we played golf at Dromoland Castle...
The significance of Dromoland Castle is that it was once home to, Brian Boru, the high King and Emperor of Ireland in the late 900's. And leading ancestor to the O'Briens and the O'Brien Clan.
That's right; The last time my people were in power was 1014. This explains a few things. I definately gotta get my (our) mojo back...

Playing golf was a good time. I had my usual ADHD round. 48 on the front and 43 on the back. Fellow golfers, you'll smirk when i tell you this. I was playing real well on the back nine and the more difficult nine holes of the course. So, instead of hitting driver over the wetlands on hole 18, i said to myself, "No. Naw. I'm going to hit this crappy rental 3-wood club, with a head the size of tiny rubber ducky. The club that looks like it belongs in the bargain barrel at Rossi's Driving Range for $10. Even though i havent used it all day. Yep. That's the right move here on 18 on a par 5 sitting just three over." Then i proceeded to pop it right into the water, to make a two stroke penalty and score a nice big fat 9. Like i said, its been 1000 years since O'Briens have been power. Could it be that we need to make better decisions??

Anyway, we had a good time. Dave Van Ommeran played great. And looked good doing it:

My son, Owen, played great too. Putting for par three times on what was a long course for him; a par 72 and 5300 yards from the ladies tees! Plus he had to use ladies clubs (he loved that idea), that were about 2 sizes too long for him. But no complaining and some great shots from O-man:

He crushed his drive on hole 18- unlike his father- over the wetlands, about 150 yards, using these helplessly long ladies clubs:
Notice the O'Brien Castle at the end of the 18th fairway!

Slainte!

Galway and some good Craic

We travel to Galway today, a nice little port city, with cobbled streets and lots of pubs sitting on a beautful coastline.

Before we left the hotel first thing in the morning, I woke up to hear the television on, as Wendy had tuned into "Ireland AM":
What i can tell you about "Ireland AM" is that it's just like Good Morning America; except for the news anchorwoman isnt nearly as hot as Diane Sawyer and the set looks a little underbudget. Other than that, its the same-- you find yourself staring at the tv for 5 more minutes than you should waiting for something/anything important to happen-- and say to yourself "damn, i gotta get dressed."




So we get going finally to Galway and its quite nice, set on the sea. Dave and Janine look really happy-- to be out of the car-- its about almost 2 hours drive.
When on vacation in IRE you walk around, sightsee, and then of course you need to eat. Then, you need to eat, again. Because you are an American. And Americans like to eat. At least i do. Thing is: it becomes kinda embarrassing because the Euros dont mow food down like you see us do in the States. They will have like a half a sandwich and cup of soup for lunch. And you notice them eating their meals at a nice smooth pace. Very efficient. Janine and I were the first to notice that there are no obese people over here. Not like walking around the KofP Mall or Hershey Park here, no sir. But as i freely admit, we are Americans and i kinda realized the way some of us eat can be a bit embarrassing. Here's a pic of our table, after ordering just our appetizers. Owen is laughing at what hogs we are:



Need fuel to travel. Gotta feed for fuel.


Later after refueling in Galway we came across a little Irish invention; and this could impress any Germans following this blog. Lynching. Apparently the roots of this attempt to control adverse human behavior can be traced to 17th century Ireland. Here's a pic from in front of a castle in Galway where the mayor James Lynch Fitzstephen (king) sorted out the bad louts, including his own son! Charming. (But hey- times were tough in 1750, right?)







I also discovered that Galway has poker. You have to go to a special after hours "club" where you can play snooker (billiards) and gamble with other Gaelic degenerates-- sorry i meant gentlemen-- and play Texas Hold'em. I dont know if you will be able to zoom in on the photograph below to see the hours the cardroom is open, but i will tell you the sign says its only open 8pm to 5am. Monday through Sunday. That makes the weekly game i play in look more like church bingo hours. I hereby recommend that VOP, Rob O'Brien and Mike Ryan petition the ownership for "euro hours" be established down in the men's grillroom at Rivercrest CC.
Later on we had to refuel (again) and ended up at Quays Pub. I'll try to update some better photos, but i'm not sure pictures do justice for this place, as they tore down a church and reassembled the arches and stained glass and lots of the thick wooden moldings and stuff inside this stone and mortar building. I guess we can count this as another Irish invention; melding a church into a pub. Brilliant.

Eventually at the end of the day, we ended up at Durty Nellies pub in Limerick. Meeting friends/locals for pints and good conversation is referred to in IRE as "good craic" (pronounced "crack"). Kelly met up with a nice fellow, John, who shared a pint with us. He then called his local golf buddy, John #2, to drive over and meet up with us. After another pint or so, you can see he was quite chummy with my little sister. Lol.Truth be told, both Johns were gentlemen, and great to talk to (like so many people we have met so far over here). Eventually, the subject turned to politics somehow. They said with a wink and a smile, how acutely aware they were of President Obama's part-Irish heritage. Lol. Probably the one of the funnier things they said revolved around the subject of the handling of the global banking crisis. After the Johns learned i was in wealth management, they asked if i knew Bernie Madoff. I said no. And i mentioned that Madoff was now sentenced to a minimum security prison in North Carolina with other white collar swindlers-- essentially a country club. John #2 then set down his pint of Harp, and made us laugh by telling us about the scandal revolving around the office of the Irish Taoiseach (thier prime minister, pronounced 'tea-shock'); saying that millions of dollars in bad bank loans are missing and in Ireland if you steal money they dont throw you in prison, telling us in his thick Irish brogue: "they pat you on the back".

Slainte!

Day One spans 38 hours

Sunday, 10:03 pm IRE time. We are finally hitting the sack after being awake for 38 hours straight. Its still light outside at 10pm in Ireland. We've been up since Saturday morning in PA and the traveling has taken its toll. Its been a pretty long day and I'll try to recount it for you...


Everything started out pretty well. The Philadelphia airport was conspicuously empty and quiet was we arrived around 6pm. Even check-in at USAir went okay.



That was until when two young Dutch guys in their late twenties, wearing capri pants and carring man-bags, attempted to cut in front of us during international check in by slyly moving their luggage in front of our luggage. Fortunately, i noticed this while talking with Wendy while wearing my made-in-the-USA, state-police-style Ray Ban sunglasses, and asked them if there was some sort of misunderstanding. We weren't delayed any further.


Aunt Kelly arrived from San Francisco and connected with us. Owen was glad to see his favorite aunt from California!


Ten minutes later, Janine and Dave Van Ommeran met us in the airport bar and we were all set to fly out.
The only problem: look carefully at all the empty space on the tarmac out the window in the photograph behind us...That's because our USAir jet plane was missing. However as many of you know, that's business as usual at Kra-aMerica-- sorry i mean to say-- USAir.


Eventually our USAir jet arrives and we take off around 11pm. Its a 5hour flight which will arrive into Shannon IRE in a time that would have us walk off the plane around 9am local time. Again, everything looked pretty good, until yours truly got to his assigned seat 5E. An aisle set right behind first class. Which i gotta tell you looked pretty darn good, until i soon realized was situated directly across from the lavoratory. Like 2 feet across from the lavoratory. However, with it being a nighttime flight and also pushing off two hours late at 11pm, not too many passengers needed to use the bathroom. USAir served us our chicken parm meal, we watched our Julia Roberts movie, and i settled in for a nap. And then...
I was awakened by the whooshing sound of the lavoratory, the door banging open, and the most horrible smell...as it turns out it was from some fat lady who had apparently just totally destroyed the bathroom. Ugghh. No way i could go back to sleep after that. Owen thought it was pretty funny. And shot this photo:


After another hour, my olfactory senses returned. The pilot announced we were approaching Shannon airport and i snapped this picture:


You heard it's green in Ireland, right...?


Getting in to IRE at 9am local time, actually works out fairly well. You're tired, but it feels like you should be beginning your day so you kind of roll with it. We skated through customs, grabbed our luggage and headed over in the EuroRental mini van to get our rental car.
If you know me, you know i like cars. I was looking forward to the challenge of driving on the "wrong side" of the road and seeing what model Euro car was reserved for us at the rental lot. You can imagine my dismay when the guy handed me the keys to this:
Thats right. It's a #*&^ Chevy. A Chevy "Epica". Which is apparently a Chevrolet Malibu, rebadged, with the steering wheel on the right side, for Europe. More on driving this pig later.

The girls wanted to stop at our hotel to drop off luggage and you know, fix hair and freshen up. So we did. Eventually, we headed out in the afternoon through County Clare to the coastal Cliffs of Moher, about an hours drive through the countryside. What a magnificent sight. Even more rugged and taller than you would think.



A funny site i should have shown you, was a bunch of local Irish tourists sitting around the visitor center macking down on soft serve ice cream cones. It was only funny because the weather out on the coastal cliffs this afternoon was in the low 60's and cloudy with a chilly breeze. But for Ireland, that's a balmy summer day!

Despite the cool weather out there, the girls did pretty well, and we hung out for a while. We decided to head back to hotel. And get some dinner at Durty Nellies pub. However at this point it about 5pm and johnny boy was really beginning to hit the wall of no sleep. Now we got up out of bed in Philadelphia about about 33 hours ago. And thanks to that overweight lady who crushed the toilet on the airplane and woke me up, I'd been awake for about 32.5 of those hours.

You know how you read those articles about overtired drivers being almost as dangerous as drunk drivers? Well i can vouch for that research now. I recently had an discussion about this with Frank3. He said he has nearly fallen asleep at the wheel and i was claiming that's not possible, to be actively driving knowing you might kill yourself. Well, Frank3, i can see what you mean now. We had about an hours drive back through the winding and narrow country roads, and i really had to struggle to focus. Dave Van Ommeran vouched for the same. All i could think about was that episode of The Flinstones, where Fred takes that second job at nightshift, then has to prop open his eyelids with toothpicks at the rock quarry during the day so Mr. Slate doesn't fire him for sleeping on his dinosaur. Aunt Kelly turned up music on the iPod and fortunately i got my third wind and we made it safely to Durty Nellies pub.



After a couple pints of Guiness and some Irish lamb stew, we were all feeling better. The sun doesnt set until about 10pm over here. And i think that was about the time we all got into our rooms and passed out. Wendy said she could here me snoring outside in the hallway as i didnt even budge until Monday morning...

Slainte!

Erin Go Bragh

People ask, "What are you going to do on your trip to Ireland?"

My initial answer is to tell them, "We'll be touring around the south for a few days. Driving through the charming towns of Cork, Galway, Kerry and stuff."
Then, I say rather smartly, "After that we head up to Dublin to stay for a couple nights, where we have tickets to see some Irish rock band, you may have heard of them, called... Yoo-Two?"


But invariably, the conversation comes around to what are we actually going to tour and see? You know, what kinds significantly important things are we going to see that the Irish built or invented? This is where i begin to get a little defensive about my heritage.

For example, if you travel to England you are going to see Buckingham Palace and the Lord only knows that place is important. Egypt has the great pyramids. France the Eiffel Tower, and let me be sure I say this right, "Le Musée du Louvre". Italy has the Roman Coliseum. What does Ireland have. The Blarney Stone is the first thing that comes to mind. Damn.

You se, when you have to go to work in a business every day with two Germans who have a higher IQ than you do; a guy begins to learn what battles he can fight. And winning the argument over which country is greater, Ireland or Germany, always comes down to: who has built more factories, owns more tanks and ultimately, who has patented more inventions?

But, I'm not going to get into that. Whose country has done better things in the world or which inventions are more important. That would be immature.



Sure I can try to blog for you a few historically important Irish inventions as we travel across its beautiful Emerald Isle. But, if I happen to write about the people we meet and the good times we have instead of documenting the museums and inventions, who cares, right? Everybody knows the Irish have invented things. Lots of important stuff. They have.

For example, I'll tell you this only because we are on the subject. An Irishman invented the Harpoon Gun. Story goes that Thomas Nesbitt invented the harpoon gun in 1760 to pulverise some pesky whales who were making a nuisance of themselves around the Donegal coastline at the time. It used to really piss off old Tom the way they'd swim right next to his boat and spray water all over the gaff. "I'll sort you out ya bastards," he said. And so he did.

So for me, i can now relieve myself of the duty of any time spent defending or being obsessed on my family vacation over: What have the Irish ever invented?? It's about who has the most FUN. And if that means playing links courses, clapping with the crowd for more live music or socializing at a pub with the locals over a few extra pints at the expense of missing out on some museum tour, then bring it on!

Sláinte!