Ri-ra

Ok, you've gotta love an Irish pub that has extensive quotes from James Joyce on the cover of the menu and lists Guinness as an appetizer. At the end of my little love-in with the real black gold, the server brought me an application for some kind of frequent flyer card, saying that he could tell I must be a regular. Not quite sure what he meant, but I made it 'home' safe and sound.

One of our local "Irish pubs" in Waterloo is called Molly Bloom's (every bit as pathetic as it looks, but it was a favourite place of my father's. In fact, we held his wake there. They have a sombrero -- I kid you not -- that used to be reserved for those coming to celebrate birthdays. At the end of the wake they gave it to us -- I'm guessing we gave them their biggest day of business ever -- and now it circulates around the family when we get together for parties) and so I went there one year to celebrate Bloomsday. It happened to fall on Father's Day. I took all my kids and told them that for a present I wanted each one of them to recite a paragraph of Ulysses. I don't think any of them followed through. When I told the server we were there for Bloomsday he told me he'd never heard of it. He asked around among the rest of the staff. The consensus response: "James who?". I should start some kind of local petition insisting that they either change their name or get real about Leopold.

And now, feeling a little ill (I think it was the fish) I shall take to my bed: "...yes I said yes I will Yes."