Wexford Girl

Granddad on a Bike

Here is another old photo. This is my mom's father, my grandfather. Photographic evidence that he liked motorcycles too. He was a policeman - garda in Ireland - so maybe this was a police bike.

Here is what I remember about him: He drove a green car. He was tall and quiet and kind, with big hands that trembled when he poured tea from their dented tin teapot. He smoked a pipe, carving the tobacco from a block of solid stuff he kept on a breadboard in the pantry, along with a short blackened knife he had specifically for the purpose.

He played golf with my grandmother, and once I ran after the ball he hit and brought it back to him. I didn't know why they both got so mad at me.

I asked him what a cannibal was, and he said "someone who eats people," which drove me wild with curiosity, but he wouldn't go into further detail.

I was 18 when he died. I ended up with his big leather wallet, which I used for years - until my purse was stolen from a pub in Dublin in 1989.

Photo Booth

I came across this photo the other day. It's me and my niece Leigh. She's 20 now, so this must be about 13 or 15 years ago. We were always so thrilled with each other when I would come back to Ireland for a visit. This makes me miss her. Hello Leigh. Write your favorite aunt a letter once in a while, won't you?

Feast

How did Thanksgiving pop up so quickly? Just last week I was in Russian River for Fourth of July!

We will have 14 people at our house! What a feast it will be, what a celebration, I love it. I also love that Eric is the cook in the family. I am very thankful for that!

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,* and the leftovers - come out and see us at Bazaar Bizarre this Sunday in Golden Gate Park's county fair building (near 9th and Lincoln). We'll have prints, paintings, and t-shirts. It is going to be an awesome fair so don't miss it!

 

 

Can you guess the quote without Googling?

New Girls

The New Girls is actually one of my favorite books ever (I've had the same battered copy since I lived in London in 1985 and I re-read it every few years.)

But there are the new girls I'm talking about:

They will be up in the shop later today, along with some other stuff.

Brilliant Idea

Six years ago I had a brilliant idea, I would take my sister to New York for her 40th birthday present. I remember telling my brother John, and he went, "you're planning ahead - she's only 34!"

I was concerned at times that it wasn't such a good idea; Liz doesn't like shopping, and maybe she wouldn't enjoy being away from her kids. Shopping is so fun in New York and I didn't want her to be bored.

Well, it turns out that Liz, when she has a wallet stuffed with birthday money in dollars, and when she is not with the kids, loves to shop. She had to buy an extra piece of luggage to take all the loot home. It didn't hurt that because of the weak dollar, things were very cheap for her.

We went on a bus packed with Irish women to a mall called Jersey Gardens. I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't on a Dublin bus. A genius idea really - marketing shopping weekends to Irish women with their Christmas lists and euros. In the luggage store at the mall where Liz bought the enormous bag, the owner told us his sales are through the roof - thanks to the Irish.

We had such a good time. There was the day in Jersey Gardens, a boat trip to see the Statue of Liberty, wonderful meals with good wine, Baileys on ice in the afternoon, exquisite nine-dollar cups of hot chocolate in Mariebelle, Mamma Mia on Broadway, brunch on the upper east side and in Balthazars, Fishs Eddy, ABC Carpet and Home, bar hopping on Saturday night in Soho, rain, bagels in ess-a-bagel, subway rides, cab rides, duelling Indian restaurants, a friendly, potty-mouthed Belfast barmaid, lots of laughter, and even more wine.

What a great trip. Let's do it again soon Liz. We might even let the boys come.

In NYC

I am with my sister Liz in NYC! This is my birthday present to her (She turns 40 next month.) We met at JFK yesterday - my fight was delayed, so Liz ended up spending 4 hours waiting for me in the airport. It was great to see her.

We are staying in the Pod hotel in midtown. Eric was here on business last week and upgraded us to a bigger room with a terrace. Thanks Eric!

Last night we ate at Milon in the East village, one of the identical but not related restaurants that fight for each customer. I love that place - tiny, tacky, encrusted with pepper-shaped lights, with good cheap food and BYOB. 

More to come. Now I need to get dressed and hit the city!

The Irish Geisha

My first job in San Francisco was as an Irish Geisha girl. I answered an ad in the paper for "hostesses" at a karaoke bar in the Tenderloin called Ichirin, which was down an alley near Mason and O'Farrell. (If you're not familiar with SF, that's almost as gritty as it gets.) It's half a block from the Pine Crest Diner, where the cook murdered the waitress in 1997, and where the Zodiac killer got into the cab of one of his victims in 1969.

 

Ichirin was ruled by Mama-san, a tiny vicious woman who wore a Kimono and berated us if we weren't dressed nicely enough, or if we didn't fawn over the customers to her satisfaction.

 

There were several Irish Geishas working at Ichirin. It was during a time where immigration from Ireland was increasing (thanks to the Donnelly Visa, which was the reason I came to the US). The turnover was huge and they were always looking for people, and it paid $8 an hour, which was pretty good in 1989.

 

Our responsibilities were:

• Sit with the customers (Japanese businessmen) at their tables and pour drinks for them. Every one of them drank Chivas Regal scotch, and had their own numbered bottles kept at the bar that they drank from every time they came in.
• Light their cigarettes.
• Encourage them to sing (at $5 a song).
• Clap after they sang
• Be as social and charming as we could be with the language barrier.

Often the only thing to do when making conversation with a man who didn't speak much English was ask him to teach me some Japanese. I can still say several sentences with a passable accent.

 

My shift was from 9:00 pm to 1:00 am. Some girls stayed until 2:00 am, and I suspect that they went above and beyond their official duties, if you get my drift.

 

I used clock out at 1:00 and walk up to the the bus stop for the night bus home. I was freshly off the boat, and quite sheltered I suppose. I guess Dublin had its share of prostitutes, but I am quite sure there were no tranny hookers in Dublin at the time I lived there (I could be wrong). So I was baffled by the impossibly tall women with large feet I saw traipsing around, and the cars driving by slowly with the driver looking at me expectantly. Once or twice, a car would stop by the bus stop and lower the window. This is how naive I was: my first thought was, "oh, he must be lost and need directions." After a couple of those incidences, I wised up and avoided catching the eye of drivers.

 

I worked there for eight or nine months. I look back on those days and I am amazed I put up with that job and didn't find it weirder at the time. I didn't like it, but I thought it was an easy enough way to make money. I don't know. I was 23!

 

No I didn't wear a Kimono. Eric's friend John Walson took this photo of me in Japantown - years after my stint as an Irish Geisha.

 

Icirin is long gone. It's not another restaurant. It's just boarded up and abandoned.

 

 

Welcome to the Future

Our next president.

I am thrilled beyond words. Hopeful. Happy. Ready.

Holy Shit - It's Happening

Can we celebrate yet, or does that invite disaster?

Happy Annie Eraser

This cracks me up every time I find it. Carter brought it back from... Poland I think? years ago, because it reminded her of me. I had red hair at the time. It's tiny - about an inch wide, and it seems to follow me around; I find it in a drawer or pocket every few months.