A pint of plain is your only man

I first published this post in February 2014. But I thought I’d re-post it in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, 2016. If nothing else, scroll down to the video at the bottom to see Ronnie Drew and the Dubliners recite Flan O’Brien’s grand old poem.

“The Workman’s Friend”

When things go wrong and will not come right,
Though you do the best you can,
When life looks black as the hour of night –
A pint of plain is your only man.

When money’s tight and hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt –
A pint of plain is your only man.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say you need a change,
A pint of plain is your only man.

When food is scarce and your larder bare
And no rashers grease your pan,
When hunger grows as your meals are rare –
A pint of plain is your only man.

In time of trouble and lousey strife,
You have still got a darlin’ plan
You still can turn to a brighter life –
A pint of plain is your only man.

— Flann O’Brien (Brian O’Nolan)

illustration 2014 by jpbohannon

illustration 2014 by jpbohannon

As far as drinking is concerned I am a very simple man.  I like my “pint of plain,” a glass of whiskey every so often, and a bottle of wine.  That’s about it.  I’ve never tasted a margarita or any of its offshoots, the great variety of martinis does not interest me, and anything blended or frozen seems more a dessert than a drink.  And if a pint of Guinness is not available, I drink whatever stout is …or a simple lager.

So, I took my trash to the curb last Thursday night, a raw and a frozen night, and afterwards walked the three doors down to the corner taproom.  Across the bar, two people were downing shots of a “Fireball.”   The woman on my right told me it was a cinnamon flavored whiskey.  “It tastes just like Big Red chewing gum,” she said.

Now that’s the problem right there.

I don’t want my whiskey to taste like cinnamon chewing gum.  I want my whiskey to taste like whiskey.  There are vodkas now that taste like cupcakes and chocolates, and mixed drinks that capture the delights of a sweet shop.  I know what is going on.  But I’m against it.  It’s the infantilization of alcohol and it is a very lucrative business.

So fast forward a few days and I am in another city sitting in the hotel bar.  I have no obligations for a good four hours, so I sit in a snug with a good book and a large glass of Jamesons.  Life feels very good.

There must be a convention of sorts at the hotel because a number of similar young men come walking in,  all at once.  I’ll have a “Black and Blue” says the one.  Make mine a “Black Apple” says another.  The bartender guessed that the “Black and Blue” was a Guinness and Blue-Moon.  And he was told that the “Black Apple” was Guinness and Cider.  (I later learned that a “Black Apple”  is also called a “poor man’s Black Velvet” which is a century-old mix of Guinness and champagne.)

But there was something in me that bristled at their orders.  Leave a drink alone, why don’t you, I wanted to say. Why must you always be fussing with it?

Maybe I am getting old. (Actually no “maybe” about it!) And maybe I am getting crotchety.  But for me, as the wonderful Flann O’Brien once wrote, “a pint of plain is your only man.”

Here’s Ronnie Drew and the rest of the Dubliners reciting Flann O’Brien’s poem, with pints of plain in their hands:

The Auld Triangle for St. Patrick’s Day

I was organizing a bit of a  celebration of Irish poets for St. Patrick’s Day at my school, and I figured I might contribute by singing a tune or two. Really, I was only going to do an a capella version of “The Auld Triangle”–the wonderful song/poem from Brendan Behan’s play The Hostage.

Brendan-Behan

Brendan Behan

And “The Auld Triangle” was in my mind because I had decided to sing it tonight (the 17th) at Steven’s Green. My old band was playing there and I usually get up and do one or two songs with them. And “The Auld Triangle” was what I was thinking.

When a colleague e-mailed to ask if he could bring a penny whistle to the poetry thing I told him my plans. He wasn’t familiar with the tune, but said he would look it up on YouTube. I don’t know what he found–Luke Kelly’s version with the Dubliners is the first hit–but I went and found this Ceiliuradh (celebration) from 2014 at the Royal Albert Hall.

This video captures everything that should be celebrated about being Irish: it is cross-generational, it revels in its history, it enjoys itself and others. The camaraderie among the players–Donal Lunny, Andy Irvine and Paul Brady (all once members of Planxty), Imelda May, John Sheehan from the Dubliners, Lisa Hannigan, Glen Hansard, Elvis Costello, Conor O’Brien from Villagers–is infectious and joyful.  But moreso it is the audience–an audience joyously celebrating its heritage in the “veddy-proper” Royal Albert Hall.

I watched the video three times and became more choked up with each viewing. Happy St. Patrick’s Day–watch the video here.