Belfast Visitors & Another English Jaunt

Despite worried emails from their respective mothers about the recent tumultuous happenings in Northern Ireland, I convinced my friends Nick and Amy Decenso to make a stroll up to Belfast to check the place out for themselves. As they were to be my first official visitors, I wanted to make their stay as pleasant as possible and decided to undertake the activity I hate the most: house cleaning. At this point in my life it has become apparent that I have to adapt to the concept of hosting married friends in my places of residence. Sadly, gone are the days when a case of beer, package of Bratwurst, and bare couches sufficed as hospitality to derelict friends. I guess the book of life turned a page unnoticed on old Brian awhile back and I am now finally catching up to the natural progression of life's formalities. Now don't take this as an indictment against the Decensos, as Nick and Amy are about as easy going as they come and would care little about the state my abode, rather I only raise this point to reflect where I am, or trying to be at in my life. So I divided the project into 3 phases, lasting as many days and got the flat in entertaining shape, or gave it my best at least. God help the poor soul who opens up the closet in the spare bedroom next.

Nick and Amy's arrival to Belfast for a couple nights brought the opportunity to visit a few of the pubs I have been wanting to see in Belfast and "officially" eat in the restaurant below my flat. It was good to spend some quality time with Nick and Amy as the last time I had seen them both together was at their wedding in September.

A few days after Nick and Amy left, I left Ireland again and went with my boss to call upon several auction houses in England and Wales. As the only visible person in the first half of life that I came across in all these auction houses, I was able to deduce the primary reason for buying and displaying antiques must have some to do with feeling younger. One has to feel at least a bit fresher in their days standing in front of a 200 year old bookshelf or desk. I have also concluded that the business of antiques is based on ridiculous perceptions of value and speculation. You mean that sloppy excuse for a water color painting is worth $10,000 but my prized Huey Lewis and the News record is worth nothing? Baloney. Also, the opportunity for unscrupulous behavior of buyers and sellers alike in the auctions is a enough to turn off a saint like myself from delving into its depths professionally.
While gone in England, two milestones passed: one was my half-birthday on the 27th. Yes, you missed it you bastards. And the next was the blog received its 20,000 page hit. What does this mean? Absoulutely nothing. But the site's board members thought I should acknowledge it.
Anyways, while in London during the trip, I got to do a little sightseeing. Expecting little satisfaction to come from a visit to a mall, I was shocked at what I saw in Harrods in London. Opera singing staff in the "food court" as well as serenading women as you ascend on the elevators made this place give the outlandishness of things in Dubai a run for its money. I got to further participate in this fantasy world when my boss decided to celebrate what I presume to be a wildly unprofitable antique expedition by treating us to a champagne luncheon in Harrods. An appropriate celebration of my half-bday I must say.

In unrelated news, I was tilting the Bacos canister into my mouth today when I noticed the label said Suitable for Vegetarians on it. I mean, its bad enough that Bacos bacon chips actually contain no real pork product, but do they have to shove it in my face that it soley consists of chemicals combined to give it that flavor. Is there a vegetarian out there eating Bacos? Correct me if I am wrong, but aren't there two types of vegetarians-- some for reasons of animal suffering, etc. and those who do it for health reasons. I cannot imagine that eating chemically altered Whoknowswhat is tempting to either group.


The level of excitement is heating up again. This upcoming Saturday a rigorously selected crew of Chicago misfits are landing in Ireland and pending their successful passage through Irish customs, will be joining me for a barnstorming tour of whats still unseen on this island. After that is a major geographical jump for me. But we can talk about that later.

Probably Not Suitable for Vegetarians,
BQ

Paddys Day with the O'Decensos

Paddys Day needs no introduction nor any description of what occurred. You did it too, just somewhere else. I had the pleasure of spending Paddys Day with SLU friends Nick and Amy Decenso, who had flown over the day before from their European trip's first destination in Spain. We rendezvoused with my friends in Dublin and celebrated the Irish holiday in the Irish capital the American way: getting toxicly crocked.

Amy lamenting the fact that this Diet Coke bottle of Whiskey will soon render her husband totally nonsensical.

He is there now and I apparently am confused about many things at this point, most obviously that I believe to be in Compton.


Drink in Dublin on St. Patricks Day,

Check.

The Business of Livin'

The past 6 months of has been some full living. 10 more countries, handfuls of incredible experiences, soles worn through, soul thoroughly exhausted. So when my fam proposed the idea of taking advantage of our relative proximity to return home for a week, I jumped on it. You see, I had become concerned. My niece Kate had begun to believe that I existed only in the computer as she was only seeing me every now and again through Skype VideoChat. As much as I would periodically like to make Wizard of Oz-like appearances in peoples lives to dispense wordly advice, the idea of being an interactive computer game didn't sit well with me. Time for Brian 3D to make the rounds.



The trip started in St. Louie, where I met up with Beth, the Tiehens, and some friends from college. Also snuck in a quick visit to my friends at my old office. Amazingly, Beth is still talking to me even though I have unsuccessfully tried several times to get her fired from work so she can meet back up for some more travel. During these attempts I did also find out that blackmail is in fact a criminal offense, not just a clever trick.

After a few days Beth and I drove to KC so I could eat some barbeque and see if my family wanted to say hi. Luckily they did, and the ensuing 5 days were filled with good times KC style. I would like to say we drove this motorcycle all the way to KC but that wasn't the case. Here is Beth with Warren from Something About Mary.



For those of you wondering, I am not quite ready to quit my living to dust off the old work suit just yet. But realistically it is coming sooner than later. I got one last hurrah in me, just need to figure out what in the tarnation it is going to be. Considering just disappearing somewhere and sending obscure picture clues for your guesses. I have some time to think though as I have another action packed month in Ireland. Paddys day next week with the Decensos, followed not long later with a sure to be epic road trip with Shane, Mary, and Bridget from Chitown.

While I was gone, Belfast and Northern Ireland managed to get itself back in world headlines. As you probably know, two dissident IRA groups stuck, first killing two British Army soldiers at a barracks followed two days later by a policemen being killed. The legitimate political party, Sinn Fein, run by many ex-IRA, condemmed the attacks along with the rest of the saner population. Haven't been able to get to any of the protests but it is pretty apparent that people from both sides are not going to tolerant a regression towards yesterdays Troubles. I will be your I-Reporter should things heat up more.

Thats all I got.

More when it hits me on the head,

Brian 2.0

The Aran Islands

When I first landed in Ireland almost 2 months ago, my friends informed me that in late February they were taking me to a festival being held on the Aran island Inish Mor off the coast of Galway. They obviously promised that it would be a boozefest but not until later when I was more adequately informed did I realize that it would be one that was religious themed. As the product of Jesuit education and having a friend who is a Jesuit, I know that clergy and booze are usually not exclusive terms, so I guess I was not initially shocked by the itineriary.
TedFest, is a festival held by devout fans of a former sitcom in Ireland and the UK called Father Ted. A comedy about 3 disfunctional priests assigned to a parish on a practically uninhabited island, the show only ran for 3 seasons before the death of the show's main character Father Ted, although it still managed to garner a cult status and huge following. On its third year, the festival is run chalkfull of Father Ted themed parties taking place in one of the island's 4 or 5 pubs. With festival tickets limited at only 200, I tried to watch as many of the shows as I could prior to the weekend, lest I be revealed as an imposter at this gathering of followers whose zeal is a bit Star Trekkie combined with the imbibing eagerness of a frat pack. It takes alot to shock me these days, but my first taste of the coming experience occured at the dock prior to departing the Galway area for the island, when I passed a frocked "nun" carrying a case of beer who I overhead muttering "feckin' hell" apparently in reference to a forgotten item. She and the 200 people, myself and 3 friends included, dressed in clergy attire would soon descend on the island of around 850 people. Besides the benefiting merchants, I can only imagine how horriried much of the islanders are when their quiet island is taken over by 200 Guinness infused "clergypeople," who spend the day bicycling the island from bar to bar before converging on the one meeting hall for the nightly festivities. As probably the only non-Irish/British attendee, I managed to get myself interviewed by a film crew documenting the ridiculous affair. I may have told a little lie to the interviewer and stated that I came all the way from the States for this, but hey, I didn't have to look far for absolution for that tiny sin. Although I know Irish religious conservatism has relaxed a bit over the years, I was still surprised at the general acceptance of the mocking behavior occuring throughout the weekend. Enough for even this boy to blush a few times.

With the sparse accomodation available snathed up by attendees long ago, we were resigned to field camping, which in February in Ireland can be potentially dreadful. Luckily, besides a few rain showers, the weather and the festivities turned out well. The highlight of the weekend was probably watching the Ireland beat England in the Six Nations rugby match in a pub full of hysterical Irish fans.

Returned back to Belfast late Sunday night, just in time for my early morning flight home to the good old US of A. Between England and Inish Mor, I haven't slept well in the past week, but the promise of proper barbeque and endless reality TV show conversations will surely keep me chugging along.

Keep the faith,
Father Brian

A Stroll Through England

trying to play catch up on the events of the past two weeks.

Not long ago my boss and I took the overnight ferry from Belfast to Liverpool, England with the goal of picking up much of his purchased antiques scattered in auction houses around the country. My primary function in this mission was to drive the van and to "motivate" any troublesome auctioneers, mostly by dangling their prized tweed jacket over a high ledge. The former task was a bit daunting as 1) I have not driven much in the last year 2) Fairly new to right-hand driving on the left side of the road. Throw in about 200 technically challenging "roundabout" intersections, a van load of irreaplaceable antiques, and a undiagnosed narcoleptic "navigator" and you have a disaster blogpost just begging to be written. But, as a champion of adverse situations, I managed to get around England and back to Belfast with the cargo more or less unscathed. The tour was brief and logged many miles but I was able get good roadside view of the stunning English countryside as well as some of the major cities: Liverpool, Nottingham, Birmingham, Bath, and Manchester. It was also a bit enjoyable to get an inside view of the antiquities underworld. I tried my best to fit in by staring approvingly at seemingly worthless pieces of crap and saying things like "Righto good chap." My attempt at faux snobbery was transparent and I was largely ignored at the auction houses until I started telling people I worked for Antique Roadshow. I then got them back by telling them their goods were worth nothing.

There is a chance I will be back in England/Scotland/Wales for some more this business, so I will try and record conversations for our enjoyment later.


Cheerio,
BQ

An American Sabbatical

Just scooped a handful of American soil into my mouth and it doesnt taste quite as I hoped it would but nevertheless I'm the Motherland for a week. I owe you a few posts soon, just don't start holding your breath on me.


BRIAN