Blarney

 

The wind rattles the shutters and the light inside the room flickers, there’s a cold in the bones and there are things outside that go bump in the night, even when it isn’t night, bring the jar and load the pipe its time to gather round the table and talk a little treason…cause St Paddy’s Day is just around the corner.

They say March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, but I am pretty sure whoever said that had never been to Oregon.

The weather here on the Coast can be wild almost anytime of the year and it never seems to go out, like a freight train out of control or a mouse scurrying across the room or anything less than a stamped of wild horses.

So with the wind and the rain and the cold, it is time to think of things, which can be done inside the quiet, warm house. Now you could try to lure spring into an early start, or you could do summer scenes and try to get your brain to believe it is warm, but why not invite the little people into your homes and spend some time enjoying the ole Sod?

There is something about the Irish spirit which makes one want to tell tales, not all of them tall and not all of them treasonous, talk of the wee folk under the hill or sing of the glories of the days before the revolution, of the mighty men and the brave deeds and then with a wink and a grin and maybe just one more wee dram, a grin and a wicked tale of fun and some naughty doings by a farmer’s daughter or a maid with her geese, or was it sheep, I heard it both ways…

You can’t ever tell just when that Irish rogue started pulling your leg, but you know it is a story so good that you don’t mind a bit, even if for reasons of health you have foresworn the daemon and drink nothing, but water.

So maybe it’s time to bring to mind some of those picturesque tales and paint a scene of Irish mirth, struggle, love, fantasy or bravery.

You know that John L. Sullivan, himself was a man of the Green and no one dared slander the Irish to his face. How ‘bout it, want to square up with John L. and do some bare knucks fighting? Those fists up, squared away, stand tall boxers of the nineteenth century can make for a wonderful composition.

The Landscape of Ireland, with or without the wee folks who live under the hill is green and lush and filled with herds of sheep, flocks of squawking geese and spring lambs, if you can’t make a picture out of that you need to rethink your calling.

What of those incredible Irish cottages with the thatched roofs? Sure they’re a fire hazard, but you don’t have to live in one to paint it.

Me, I like fireplaces. The Long Suffering has, (An elevated sense of order and cleanliness which declares that all fireplace are nasty, filthy things requiring more effort than the are worth), banned fireplaces from all of our homes, but I can still have one if I create it in two dimensions. And in truth I prefer the rough stone fireplaces so frequently present in Irish cottages, maybe with a sheleighly resting by the hearth or a dog cured up on the rug. Yeah, I know too Norman Rockwell.

So, that’s what I have done, I did one of those Irish cottages with the sheeighly, but sans the dog and I’m posting it here to kick start you engines.

Sure you can come up with your own Irish themed painting/sculpture/photo, but I want you to start today.

See come Saturday, March 17, 2012 I want you squarely in front of your television watching one of the delicious Irish movies.

Now for the Seniors in the audience, you’ll want Finnian’s Rainbow. And who could question the choice of Fred Astaire even if he isn’t dancing just smiling and twinkling as only Fred Astaire could twinkle.

Or perhaps you’d like something less musical? The Informer, for which Victor McLaglen won his only Academy Award, will make you watch in horror as a good man with a weak spirit descends into betrayal and despair. (More about Victor later.)

If you are an X or a Y’er you’d probably like something less well, old. Try The Matchmaker. You’ll find a host of familiar faces, Jeanane Garofalo, Denis Leary and Milo O’Shay offer some laughs and don’t be surprised if you hear some of the candidates try the same tricks in the next several months. Speaking of tricks, Waking Ned Devine has a few up its sleeve. And of course it also has gratuitous nudity, always a plus.

If there are kids in the house or you want to make peace with your Long Suffering put on Darby O’Gill and the Little People. The kids will love it, and that colleen of yours will melt over Sean Connery before Bond, fresh off his Mister Universe appearance. Sad to say that was the worst he would ever look and yes, I am now and have always been jealous of Sean the Magnificent!

But if you really want the Irish experience watch The Quiet Man. This is the one for which John Wayne should have won the Oscar. Maureen O’Hara is fiery, fierce and packs a wicked right, the Irish Mafia fills in all of the character roles with Ward Bond and Arthur Shields making even the most dedicated agnostic believe in spiritual leaders, Victor McLaglen going fifteen round with Big John.

You do know that McLaglen got that smashed nose going ten rounds with John L. Sullivan, himself. He takes a lickin’ from the Duke but in a real Brannigan he’d mop the floor with ole John.

Still, John Ford’s love letter to Ireland stands up to the years and is worth watching again and again.

Now hurry the Bishop is coming and I want yous all to line the roads and cheer like good Protestants, for the Rev Playfair, good man that he is and maybe he won’t get reassigned!