part 2: getting there
part 2: getting there
Italy vacation becomes Italy and Ireland vacation
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A couple of weeks ago, in regular emailing as Ger(aldine) and Gerby (as Eamonn identifies himself on the Irish Ducati Owners Club forum) stand poised for a California vacation, came this comment:
> Tom, I hope you don't mind me saying this but you
> sound like an old fashioned hippy. No car, no bike
> and apparently no mobile phone. It makes you sound
> like an interesting character. But you have to tell me
> more about your background with a name like Tom
> Finnegan. I presume you know the song "Finnegan's
> Wake", one of the most popular Irish folk songs of all
> time, especially the version sung by the Dubliners,
> don't you? If not, I'll get a copy (I have it somewhere)
> and send it to you. Irish culture of the highest order,
> kind of.
“Old-fashioned hippy,” huh? Awww. “Interesting character,” huh? Flattery will get you somewhere, Gerby.
So Thursday I met them at the airport, holding a really big sign saying “Ger(by)?” somehow confident of spotting someone I’d never seen before while hoping they wouldn’t sneak past the SFO terminal’s exit chute.
All worked fine. Found them, and accompanied them by BART to downtown and their hotel.
Spent a wonderful Sunday brunch with them at our house, along with two other couples. (One woman works at the Ducati dealership; her partner is a racer.) Of the eight people in the living room, four own bikes, and the grand total is thirteen motorcycles among them!
As the San Francisco portion of Ger and Gerby’s California vacation ends, we all know that this is a friendship for life. Seven weeks ago, pre-Facebook, we didn’t even know one another.
They invite us to stay with them in Dublin.
It is now going to be an Italy AND IRELAND vacation. A little change of plans, there. Oh, and as a result the duration expands to one solid month. Though this feels positively indulgent by American standards, four weeks is a shabby sacrifice by European terms.
In the living room on Sunday, we have Gerby lead us in accompanying the Dubliners’ rendition of the song that has suddenly become “mine” in a warm way.
Tomorrow I’ll be buying James Joyce’s book that takes flight from the uproarious Wake.
Irish eyes are smiling all over the place.
Monday, April 6, 2009