ten to a Japanese dude teach me about Noh theatre. Picture white powdered faces, traditional Japanese costumes and no words. I had done the serious bit of my degree and now I was doing the minor bit. I'd cycle out the rock road to soak up what was for me, something akin to switching off my brain's life-support two evenings a week. At least the other two nights were cerebral... Greek and Roman civilisation. Sure hadn't I just come back from a whirlwind alcohol tour of Athens, Paros, Naxos, Ios and Santorini? Perfect! But Japanese Noh theatre was just a noh noh!
But I'd cycled all day and then sat my ass down for 3 hours of college before cycling all the way back northside and getting a dinner after 10.
I wasn't the only one burning the candle at both ends. Sure mucho narcotics got swallowed, guys like Enda making the serious money up in Ballyfermot after dark with his deliveries. Energy was there to burn whatever way you wanted. Some guys had a different girlfriend every night, some could fit a nooner in at lunchtime. There was the Kiwi savage from the South Island that knocked out 60 jobs a day,tended bar in the Globe at night and still found time to launch a folk record label at the weekends. Or the Aussi that was always stealing jobs to bump up his wages and doing deliveries of a different kind after work. And he treated every day like rutting season. He was so busy he had forgotten to get a visa along the way! Some just delivered pizzas. One dude was a courier, security guard and musician too.My cousin was a messenger and sound engineer. His bestie was a juggler and kids entertainer. A hell of a lot were in bands. I don't mean like donkeys that own a drum-kit and deafen the neighbours.... I mean bands that sometimes got signed. Or at least played gigs. Anything from funk to punk. One of the guys was a session guitarist. Another taught guitar. Another one brought Chad Smith from the Chilli Peppers here for a drum school. It seemed everyone bar me played music. The guys often jammed together. One guy's party piece was to walk into serious music shops, sit at a piano and blast out a perfect classical piece... His talent coming from his Mom who happened to be a concert pianist! It was weird watching your fellow messenger on stage at a gig giving it Sox.
Three different blokes were DJs. My base dispatcher had a four track at home and made his own electro-synth CDs. And Amanda... Do you remember Amanda? Wow... Amanda could sing soul beautifully and turn your legs to jelly with that star smile.
But most of all there was a surplus of energy that was there to be used. In your twenties it just exuded from the life. I feel in some ways as if I wasted time listening to Jap drama when I could have been happier listening to my mates play serious music. Or I could have been sneaking about the underbelly of Dublin instead of looking at the long view. Que sera sera.
But I'd cycled all day and then sat my ass down for 3 hours of college before cycling all the way back northside and getting a dinner after 10.
I wasn't the only one burning the candle at both ends. Sure mucho narcotics got swallowed, guys like Enda making the serious money up in Ballyfermot after dark with his deliveries. Energy was there to burn whatever way you wanted. Some guys had a different girlfriend every night, some could fit a nooner in at lunchtime. There was the Kiwi savage from the South Island that knocked out 60 jobs a day,tended bar in the Globe at night and still found time to launch a folk record label at the weekends. Or the Aussi that was always stealing jobs to bump up his wages and doing deliveries of a different kind after work. And he treated every day like rutting season. He was so busy he had forgotten to get a visa along the way! Some just delivered pizzas. One dude was a courier, security guard and musician too.My cousin was a messenger and sound engineer. His bestie was a juggler and kids entertainer. A hell of a lot were in bands. I don't mean like donkeys that own a drum-kit and deafen the neighbours.... I mean bands that sometimes got signed. Or at least played gigs. Anything from funk to punk. One of the guys was a session guitarist. Another taught guitar. Another one brought Chad Smith from the Chilli Peppers here for a drum school. It seemed everyone bar me played music. The guys often jammed together. One guy's party piece was to walk into serious music shops, sit at a piano and blast out a perfect classical piece... His talent coming from his Mom who happened to be a concert pianist! It was weird watching your fellow messenger on stage at a gig giving it Sox.
Three different blokes were DJs. My base dispatcher had a four track at home and made his own electro-synth CDs. And Amanda... Do you remember Amanda? Wow... Amanda could sing soul beautifully and turn your legs to jelly with that star smile.
But most of all there was a surplus of energy that was there to be used. In your twenties it just exuded from the life. I feel in some ways as if I wasted time listening to Jap drama when I could have been happier listening to my mates play serious music. Or I could have been sneaking about the underbelly of Dublin instead of looking at the long view. Que sera sera.
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