Monday - at the International

I did point out that there's something on every night of the week in Dubland this weather, to do with Culture, Vultures etc. It's my ambition some week to go to all of em, maybe... not this week tho. Think it'd have to be a week off from volunteering.

This Monday after a tough day's volunteering at the job (see my second last post), and a nice evening of watching young geniuses in Clondalkland bringing the past to life in preparation for heritage week, I was facing into an evening at home, alone... Awww. Himself having left me (hopefully temporarily) for the charms of Connemara,

I have been reverting to my singleton habits, (eating wise mainly), so following a packet of popcorn and a bottle of lucozade for my dinner, I wandered into town in search of adventure.....

Well in search of the open mic night at the International Bar. And I found it - there where I left it, (on that street near salamanca, I'm not good on details, so focussed on the big picture you see...)

I was sitting up at the bar, innocently minding my own business. Rhob Cunningham had wowed everyone with his amazing voice, and I was just thinkin what a brilliant lovely night it was where a girl could come along, even without her husband, and make new friends, and relax and then....

Stephen James Smith struck!! and asked me if i wanted to say a poem, later on like, if there was a gap... and I nodded calmly and smiled, and the butterflies went insane... It was only gonna be one poem tho, and I had a short one in mind, that'd be new to this crowd, that'd be perfect, so I said it to myself intermittantly between acts for the rest of the evening.

Some of the outstanding acts included Jay Fowler with a tiny guitar: out of which came some unbelieveably sweet music. Also the Longford guy - I have yet to talk to him and find out his name but I've seen him now a few times, and I love what he does. His songs are really real mostly, based in experience, and true feeling. He did a hilarious one about not really liking a girl which had everyone rolling around with the laughs. I will find out his name. Speakin of laughs, Neil Hickey was there again, a great young talent, explaining how old people try to extend their lives by spending more time in queues - because time passes slower there.

The poetry was brilliant too, and I don't mean me (obviously). But finally got to see Stephen James do the Tick Tock poem live (I won't tell you what his friends call it, but think cockney slang) - the first poem of his I ever saw on youtube - so that was cool. Brian Conaghan went on then and made us all uncomfortable, then unbearably sad, then mirthful, then thoughtful. He was great. His poem "Hands" was unforgetable...
(Here's a picture of some oily beach feet to mark the occasion, I ran out of hand related pictures last week... Feet are the thinking man's hands anyway - I'm typing all of this with my toes, while using my hands for an entirely other purpose, but that's another story)
I'd seen him before at the Shoestring - anyway - he had us all spellbound, and I was glad when he got the hell outta there before I got up, twas hard enough to be following him anyway.
I eventually did get up, and Stephen James Smith struck again, by askin me to do Techno Tribes (you'll see it two weeks ago in the posts here if you care). Anyway it wasn't what i was plannin, but I went along with it... it was ok, I guess. The whole gist of it, about havin no friends etc, did look really authentic when I went back to sit on my own at the bar...
I missed the last poet, because with my lack of a bodygaurd I felt it would be good to get out early to the carpark. I'm sure he was brilliant, (I mean the poet, not the missing bodygaurd) he had travelled from another county to get there, and his hair was very promising. (see you don't really come to this blog for information anyway though do you?)

Anyways - I'm on there proper next week, have my name down, and my friends are all coming, so you will in fact have great difficulty getting a seat if you decide to attend...

Oh - and there were lollipops! Which brings me on to this week's
WEEKLY COMPETITION: (she says, as if there's a competition every week).
Well Stephen James Smith announced there on Monday that he's thinking of renaming the night the Glór sessions. He wanted some feedback on that idea. Glór is Irish for voice, I've yet to hear anyone speak in Irish in there, but it is set in Ireland - the whole night - so... I don't know. I think Glór might be a bit offputting - might remind people of Gorey, or they might think it refers to Glory - there's a surprising amount of people among us who actually don't speak fluent irish, but I do like the idea of using irish - just maybe something more common. So that's the challenge to you - suggest a new title for the Open Mic at the International Bar and I will personally steal a lollipop at the next one, just for you. This competition is open to international entrants, as the lollipops are light enough to post. Closing date next Sunday night. The following suggestions will not be considered: Loony Luainí, Dán agus ceol dána or OMIB... There's no guarantee that the winning name will actually be used for anything ever, but the lollipop has to go somewhere....