I should have been a rock star- irish pubs and tipsy tunes

In March of 2003, Ashley and I arranged a school trip to Ireland. She offered it to kids at Cascia Hall and I to kids at Sapulpa High. We ended up with a pretty good group, and with a few parents to boot. One of the girls from Sapulpa took her mom and two sets of Cascia parents went along with me, Ash and two other chaperones… Lynnann, Ash’s fellow Cascia teacher, and her husband.

Symbolically, we flew out of Tulsa on St Patrick’s Day to arrive in Dublin in the late evening as the tattered remains of raining hell on St Patrick’s Day had settled over the streets. Pubs were still lively and the streets still active. We were obviously tired from the travel, but wandered the streets seeking succor in the form of Guinness.

We spent a couple days in Dublin, touring, and drinking our way across the city. One bartender told us that the Guinness got better the closer you got to the Liffee… which is the river that runs through Dublin. I think it was true. The Stout never tasted better than taken with a whiff of Irish air and breeze from the river drifting through the pub.

Finally, we boarded the bus to begin our tour of the island. Interestingly enough, the company had given us, not an Irishman, but instead a Scandinavian woman as our guide in the Emerald Isle. Perplexing. She was sweet and knowledgeable, but not Irish.

It was in our travel that we had a couple of great pub experiences, one of which is a musical event I will never forget. This came on the day of Wednesday, March 19.

We left Dublin at a time early for any late night drinkers, 8:30 am. In fact, a time that seemed early for most Irish. We drove a long time to reach the Rock of Cashel, where stood a medieval fortress and the ancient original cathedral of St Patrick. The cathedral was in a state of disrepair and I noticed something unusual about it after wandering inside… besides the roof that was no more. The cathedral was one of the only I have ever seen in which the altar was at the west end.
Legends say that the devil threw the rock at St Patrick to dissuade him from Christianizing the Irish and instead, Patrick built his cathedral there. It was a place that was probably more interesting to me, the history teacher, than to a lot of the kids.
WE loaded the bus and drove on the town of Tipperary. A Lot of people… older people… know of it because of the famous WW I song, “It’s a long Way To Tipperary.”
It's a long way to Tipperary,
It's a long way to go.
It's a long way to Tipperary
To the sweetest girl I know!

We made a short stop there, where Ash and I broke from the group, and ran to the nearest pub. It was in the quiet of that pub that we met the Price brothers, two shaved headed brothers who mad their way as boxers. They were interested in talking to the Americans and drinking a pint with us. Ash and I were late getting back to the bus.. and the driver was not pleased.. but it was worth it to us.
Finally, we pulled into the town of Limerick. We nested into the hotel and I fell asleep for a Guinness induced nap. The nap rejuvenated me and prepared me for the night to follow.
After dinner, we milled around debating our course of discovery and pub debauchery for the evening. First, as a group, we wandered 9into the hotel bar where a three-man band played. They sat in chairs, beers perched at their sides, each playing guitars. The three wore long hair in an almost 70’s style and they played rock songs from across the eras of pop music.
I sat at the bar, directly beside the band, watching them strum, pick and sings through a list of hits I was well familiar with. I think they realized that I too, after a few more beers, was singing along with them as they played. Soon, we were engaged in a running conversation between songs. We exchanged names, and shook hands and talked music as they played.
Soon, a lot of our group wandered on to more teenage places and I stayed and became drinking buddies with the band. A few more hotel patrons and some locals wandered in as well.
The band gave us music advice about Irish bands. Of course, you can’t go wrong with U2, but never, never listen to anything played by MYTOWN… they are a disgrace to the Irish!! The band said, listen to the Frames… a great but underrated band.
Later I would find a lot of music by the Frames and the band was right… they ere good; Serious and somber, and good. Iun fact, in recent years, the lead singer, Glen Hansard would star in and write the oscar winning soundtrack to the independent movie “Once.” Like the band, it is an understated and beautiful work of art.
I have still not listened to MYTOWN.

After many beers and songs, John Steele, the lead singer, got up to go take a piss. He and I staggered to the toilet, talking about how much we both disliked George Bush and his war… the 2nd Iraqi war had just begun while we were in Dublin. Pissing and politics.
Back in the bar, John sat to play and said to the crowd, I’d like to dedicate a song to my new friend and intelligent human being, Charlie Dugan.” Then the band played a spectacular version of the Beatles “Don’t Let Me Down.”

I stayed until the band finished for the night. I shook hands and patted backs with my newfound musical friends. I appreciated their talent, and I think they appreciated being appreciated. It was a wonderful night… my m body softly buzzing with the Irish drink and my mind buzzing with a thousand songs and singers.

How I wish I could find that band again, drink to the music, share a piss and musical trivia. Tip a brew and buy a round for them.

It was that moment I felt the true words spoken to me in another pub. An older gentleman, after finding out that my name was “Dugan”, an obviously Irish name, said as he raised his glass, “Welcome Home Charlie Dugan. We4lcome home.”