Re: Where is everyone? (II)up @the diving board!

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Posted by Butch on October 27, 2000 at 07:04:09:

In Reply to: Re: Where is everyone? posted by Tempus Fugit on October 26, 2000 at 09:56:17:

He was now (James Charles that is for those of you who came in late) brushing his overcoat in front the hall stand, a quality piece of black walnut featuring a full length swivel mirror flanked by hooks on either side with drawers underneath filled with pipes, tobacco ,leather pouches, brushes gloves , bric a brac ,finally his hat on his head , bike clips in his hand ,sets sail on his trusty bi-ped for town and Tansy's!. To my knowledge Grandad did not imbibe in any other tavern save for Tansy's and to picture how this small haven of fraternity featured in our lives let us now take up where we left off: Having left St. patrick's national school at the Barracks ,the largest playground in the world ,and that insurrmountable convent wall built like mountjoy , gone forever the weekly show by Paddy Crosby in "the school around the corner" "do you have a funny incident?" yes Master Crosby the dog ate the cat while he was eating!(true!)and the lads went at it on the mall after school sir and don't forget Pudsy Ryan that grand practioner of grammatical excellence who stuned everyone with his spelling prowess in the weekly edition of "The Our Boys". Our boy now has long trousers made his confirmation ,rides a bike , and attends St.Geralds academy wher the lad is now seen riding his bike furiously down burns hill it's raining and cold i could'nt find my fecken gloves again i have to keep one hand in my pocket with the other hand on the handlebars until it gets cold and then i make the swap the winds against me as usual bent on revenge ,as i fly past Mangans the back mudguard comes off and gets stuck under the wheel causing the bike to richochet down the hill carreening from side to side ,sparks flying, unable to keep balance any longer crashing into the ditch just before the stream that runs into the lake having missed the concrete wall that traversed the small bridge by about four feet. Picked myself up bent the mudguard back into shape and continued on my way to school none the worse for wear i did'nt care iwas late again it was the last day of school before the hollidays, now if the chain dos'nt come off ,and the tire don't go flat, i might make it ?? so i made myself invisible sat down in my front seat i materialized back into the direct view of Brother Finlan my stomach twisted as he walked over to me grabing me by the locks and raising me up out of my seat still firmly grasped to my hair inquires " What happened to the bike this morning Jamie?" Out in the smoke filled shed at sos i watch the circus trying to stay out of trouble as Michael Cannon is heavily into a fracas with some guy who challenged him his bad arm hanging limp and his good arm firmly entrenched around the neck of the now paralyized contender "I give up" came soon the cry and the cool Canon dusting off his black leather jacket (which he got from working in england during the summer hollidays) and lights up another fag ,the bell rings, we file past the watchfull eye of Bro. George ,for me to meet my nemesis Gerry Ryan and his dreaded leather belt coming down with ferocity across the length of your hand onto your exposed wrist because he had pulled up the shirt sleeve you had just pulled down... my arms were black and blue from his pinching unable to fathom his oblique methods algebraic equations, gallic responses , twas all greek to me,as the transition from primary school to secondary school had now become a total disaster i was unable to fathom anything at St. Geralds college Castlebar as i yearned for the freedom of Birdy's class and the benevolent Brother Augustus, our friend and father figure "Gussie" who let us grow and learn who used the stick once and never had reason to use it again, on us at least, his first class in Castlebar (seeJDP Oct.18th@18:39:24:)lo and behold he took us out of the classroom!we cycled to westport and behond to lecanvey and climbed the Reek, we biked to the bottom of Nephin , made tea and eat sandwhiches ,climbed the mountain , education for the soul,he was interested in what you had to say ,made the lads feel at home with the master ,but he never failed to miss an oppurtunity to dialogue in Gaelig his love of the Irish language was contagious he did'nt care how badly you spoke as long as you tried, So consequently as time went on when ever i bumped into Gussie coming back from one of his constitionals in from the country ,it was with a certain amount of trepidation that when i saw him coming along the road i knew that i had to converse in Gaelig and my pidgeon irish did'nt quite cut it,i certainly did'nt want to give him the opinion that i had neglected my heritage since leaving his tutelage thus ....eager to score points i would make the opening parry utilising all my gaeltacht experience (thimble anyone)" Dia guit a Braither Ce e bfuil tu innubh? " and he smiled showing all those pearly whites highlighting his ruddy face capped with that windy head of curly grey hair he was smiling because ihad commited myself after all he was,nt a totalitarien icould have greeted him in the queen's english and be on my way no such luck iwas trapped and he knew it but he never made you feel inferior thus he replied "Dias Muire guit a Seamas agus ca bfuill tu fein ?" "go maith a Braither, go maith, o sea go maith, " repetition was good lots of "Ta an la go brea anseo nac bfuil ? ta se go brath ansin agus ta me ag dul a baile amarac anseo slan leat slan leat. YES,good bye Gussie maybe we'll meet in that classroom in the sky where the cofra is full of fountain pens with gold nibs and copybooks in parchment and we cycle around heaven all day long.

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