The Thread for People who Just Want to Say Something Nice

[Heather]

I just got offered a new job ! Was made redundant there about 3 weeks ago and the first job I've gone for I got so I'm dead pleased! Means I can afford Dublin this year for sure! YAY ! Really really happy, start Monday though.

Congratulations.

We both have something to celebrate tonight.

[moose]

I just got offered a new job ! Was made redundant there about 3 weeks ago and the first job I've gone for I got so I'm dead pleased! Means I can afford Dublin this year for sure! YAY ! Really really happy, start Monday though.

Millions unemployed and Walshy waltz's from job to job. Well done that girl

[T-Reilly]

This appears to be the correct thread for spilling my deep appreciation for the music of the Pogues. My grandparents came from Mayo to America in the late 20s, lived, met and married in New York in the mid-30s (at a Catholic church on the Upper West Side where they lived--a church I got to visit with my mother for the first time about a month ago). My grandfather, a giant among giants, had moved from Swinford to England when he was 12 and worked the fields with the adults, as they'd determined he was not only willing but perfectly able to work among them at their level of labor. He went on to travel to Australia to work (diving for pearls--he got the bends at one point), on to Bombay to work the shipyards, on to New York, married, had a couple kids, opened a bar in the Bronx, rode the rails during the Depression, worked as a coal miner around Pittsburgh, eventually settling in Detroit to work construction, building some of the magnificent, and somewhat recently neglected, buildings downtown, as well as the tunnel to Canada.

When I bought If I Should Fall from Grace with God in 1987 at age 15 it was like an archaeological discovery of my own familial past, and it set me in a good musical direction after having been into like Van Halen, then skater punk, it was finally. like the Buddhist notion of 'becoming who you are,' discovering the real stuff that you connect with on a deeper level.

A few years later, in college in West Virginia--not far from where my grandfather had mined coal for a time--I got a phone call informing me that my grandfather had died, age 83, at his home outside Detroit. He awoke, picked up his toothbrush as he always did first thing, then went back to bed and passed away. Our last conversation, before I had left for college, was him telling me about the region where he had been a miner, telling me about the rivers I would soon be living among.

I had never really even known anyone who had died, much less someone so close and, yeah, heroic. After the initial devastation, I thought of "Thousands Are Sailing," and how that song had struck me as being pretty much all about him, such an accurate and beautiful narrative of his life, and of course the lives of so many others, and I thought, there's no way I can listen to that song now. I'll just break down completely. A little while later I sat down on the edge of my bed in my little room overlooking the Monongahela River, played the song in tribute, and cried awesomely.

I finally got to see the Pogues in 1994 at St. Andrews Hall in Detroit, a great show, had a few Guinnesses, made my way up to the front of the stage, and the crowd was beautifully festive in communal celebration. Phil Chevron sang 'my grandfather's song" and it was like the completion of a circle. (I also remember Phil's great D-Town shoutout: "Kick out der jams, motherfookers!")

So, I just want to thank Mr. Chevron and the boys for... you know. You know, I'm sure. Cheers.

[T-Reilly]

And since I'm here, I'll just post a plug for one of my employers, Irish American News (something of a misnomer, as it's Chicago-area mostly. I maintain their website, http://www.irishamericannews.com). The publisher is putting on a big event at the Irish-American Heritage Center on the northwest side of Chicago, called iBAM! (Irish Books-Artists-Musicians) happening October 30-Nov.1. Stop by if you're in the area.

[Jane]

This appears to be the correct thread for spilling my deep appreciation for the music of the Pogues.

It certainly is! Just as the very religious probably wonder how heathens like me get through the day without some sort of higher power...I to often ponder at how non-Pouges fans struggle through the day without a bit of Pogues.

[firehazard]

This appears to be the correct thread for spilling my deep appreciation for the music of the Pogues...

That's a great story, thanks for sharing. And welcome to Medusa.

[philipchevron]

I finally got to see the Pogues in 1994 at St. Andrews Hall in Detroit, a great show, had a few Guinnesses, made my way up to the front of the stage, and the crowd was beautifully festive in communal celebration. Phil Chevron sang 'my grandfather's song" and it was like the completion of a circle. (I also remember Phil's great D-Town shoutout: "Kick out der jams, motherfookers!")

Both the Nips and the Radiators were born under the MC5 sign. Great story, welcome to Medusa.

[phro37]

the pogues rock. that is all

[kmurray105]

My grandparents came from Mayo to America in the late 20s, lived, met and married in New York in the mid-30s (at a Catholic church on the Upper West Side where they lived--a church I got to visit with my mother for the first time about a month ago). My grandfather, a giant among giants, had moved from Swinford to England when he was 12 and worked the fields with the adults, as they'd determined he was not only willi

What church? Was it Good Shepherd perchance?

[CraigBatty]

This IS nice.

[CraigBatty]

To Oirish Rover Machroi:

'Faol saol agat, gob fliuch, agus bás in Éirinn.'
Long life to you, a wet mouth, and death (AT A VERY OLD AGE) in Ireland.

[Jane]

Well I'm having a lovely evening. I've swilled a fair few glasses o wine 'tis true. This can always lead to rose colored glasses! I have today been on a shopping spree at Walmart..again fueling the feelings of elation! Four pumkins were purchased and are displayed proudly on my counter top. I've gone way over the top on the Halloween decorations, the cats are fed, there's food in the fridge, and three more bottles of wine in the rack. I mean what more could I ask for!? I feel a bit sorry for my husband though. He's reached the grand old age (25) where hang overs come with a bit more of a punch than they used to. Oh lord he doesn't know the halfs of it! He goes out and tries to drink shots like he used to, only to find he's been on the borderline of puking all day. Now he's incapacitated on the couch watching the football. Good to know it hasn't interfered with his usual activities though!

[firehazard]

... Now he's incapacitated on the couch watching the football...

Sounds like a normal weekend day chez firehazard.
Incapacitated on the couch watching the football is not actually a bad place to be.
And just let him wait till he's twice that age, and his liver is in a right old sulk...

[phro37]

He's reached the grand old age (25) where hang overs come with a bit more of a punch than they used to.

i remember when i first started drinking i'd stay at my friend's apartment and drink til 4 in the morning. i'd be up around 8, bright eyed and bushy tailed, helping clean the place up before he went to work, and ready to start it over again that night. now i'm lucky if i'm ever up til 4 am sober and i have to drag to be up at 11 with one eye stuck shut and the other eye dried out, stuck open, and blood shot. and i'm only 27. when will they find a cure for time?

[philipchevron]

He's reached the grand old age (25) where hang overs come with a bit more of a punch than they used to.

i remember when i first started drinking i'd stay at my friend's apartment and drink til 4 in the morning. i'd be up around 8, bright eyed and bushy tailed, helping clean the place up before he went to work, and ready to start it over again that night. now i'm lucky if i'm ever up til 4 am sober and i have to drag to be up at 11 with one eye stuck shut and the other eye dried out, stuck open, and blood shot. and i'm only 27. when will they find a cure for time?

Dismayingly enough, the older you get, the further away from a cure for time they seem to get.