Man, oh Manannán, did I do something dumb, dumb, dumb. When I made up the March schedule, I slickly arranged to have the evening of the Solemn Feast of St Patrick and the following morning off so I could pursue... uh... religious obligations... yeah. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the parade and subsequent revelry would take place on the 16th, the day I'd earmarked to work extra hard in order to have the 17th off. Fuckety, fuck, fuck, fuck... sounds like a snippet of Bottle of Smoke, doesn't it?
So... here I am, stuck at work and as sober as a bleepin' Mormon (but not this Mormon. Oh, well, it's was a major screw up on my part, but I actually like my job, and I have nobody to blame for this mistake but myself. As a consolation, there's always the neighborhood parade next Saturday. Hey, how about a melancholy tearjerker to accompany this maudlin blog post?
The Town I Loved So Well, by Phil Coulter (who, and I did not know this until today, co-wrote the Bay City Rollers' song Saturday Night) details the city of Derry's slide from a hardscrabble working class town to an epicenter of violence during The Troubles. Get your hankies ready, this one's a real weepie:
Must be a little dust in the air... I think I need to check the HVAC filters...