Saturday evening I had an opportunity to go see Roger Waters perform in Mansfield MA…what an awesome show it was. All Pink Floyd too. I have seen him before and it’s pretty much the same things. Same with David Gilmore’s shows. I just love them.
I wish Pink Floyd were together still, but- seeing these icons perform is good enough because the PF spirit shines on through them.
The concert was rowdy and fun and obnoxious and just a blast. We got a little drunk driving down there- NO- I wasn’t driving. We had someone else do that. Heh. YES it was a shirt removing event too. FUN.

The wailing Great Gig In The Sky to the hearty and rough High Hopes- I loved every moment of this concert and cherish the times I go. Rumor was rampant that Gilmore will be doing a show and he’s coming to MA too….I will be there.

HEY YO…HEY YO….about twenty five times.
Then the last song:
hello, is there anybody IN there??

We go total FLOYDIAN.

I don’t know how I made it to work Sunday am. But I did…quite the mess and I had to shower there and all that. BUT at least I showed up and went about my day without any major problems. I had to keep moving though or I would have collapsed. I guess a third wind came upon me too. Channy got a brilliant idea at 8pm Sunday: “Let’s go to Ground Zero tomorrow!!”

HUH??

So it was. Two rigs full of crazy sleep deprived patriotic American FOOLS driving to NYC at 1am. Singing. Laughing. Crying. Sleeping. Barking (the dogs.) We got there at 5am and did a quick round to donut shops for a wash and coffee. Then we went to the surrounding area of GZ. It was very somber and sad. When the bag pipes started my tears came. Always wear sun glasses to these things. I saw President and Mrs. Bush from a distance. They seemed so little from my vantage viewpoint. The tolling of the bell shook my sense of reality - and appearently Mrs. Bush’s as well. She wiped tears several times. To hear all those names- makes you think about how lucky we have it. Just to be alive. I never get over the towers not being there either. When you look up to the sky you expect to see them, still, after 5 yrs. But they are gone. A large empty void has been left.

I remembered being at the towers. Both of them. Tall, very tall. Gleaming concrete. And the glass. Elegant elevators with all those high end shops. Up one set of levels, then walk over to the next elevators…I remember eating at Windows of The World.
The sights from up there even on a foggy Manhattan morning. The life too. Laughter. Talking. Gossip. The friendliness. And the food. The buildings always swayed a little. When you were out on the observe deck, you felt it. And sort of saw it too. If one paid to much attention to it they might even get sea sick. Windy- I lost my Patsy hat on the roof of that building. We watched it go down- falling ever so gracefully. I thought of that moment, and then thought of the people who jumped. Damn.

We drove back home through western MA and the Berkshires- quiet elite towns and those elegant and rich neighborhoods. I saw houses I cannot imagine anyone NEEDING to actually live in. HUGE. Must have 20 bedrooms. Large spans of lawns and flowers and fancy gardens. I bet they spend my yearly income on landscaping alone. Wow. Pretty but…not my kind of area. In one town we counted 20 miles between houses. THAT’s insane. Who wants to be that excluded from anything and everything? I guess some people prize that stuff.

On the Ireland trip one of the members of our group spent some time with me…his name is Matt and he lives in upstate NY. I hung out with him alot in Belfast and Ole Kinsale. I figured I would never see him again after we parted- I had to come home early. HE is the the guy who took pictures of my boobies LOL…he’s got a real nice rig of a camera and is a pro with pictures.
Anyway he sent these pictures to me yesterday and then called me. I forgot that I had given him my number. We talked for a while and…I got a….DATE…with him. He’s coming to my work Friday afternoon to have dinner with me on my break. How effin cool is that? Coming all the way from NY to spend an hour. With me. He promised me he was interested in seeing me and not the boobs…LOL since he’s already seen them for the most part this could be interesting. I am looking forward.

Guess where??:?::?:

Rockport Harbor…MA. Will be here through Friday. Then its….BACK TO WORK. YUCK.

So where I am now?? Up in Bar Harbor Maine.

Guess what the weather is like??:roll:

Main Street @ 6:45am. See that wet shiny stuff on the pavement? It’s RAIN. NOTICE the little liquor store sign. Heh.

The pier off of Main Street. I’m on a rocky little beach.

The Harbor itself.

I do love the rain. And I’m getting pretty wet here. It’s an awesome town and I could live here forever. Will be here through tomorrow- then it’s down to Rockport MA (another maritime haven).

The Crown Pub in Belfast is an awesome place. The woodwork- walls, ceilings and floors, posts and much of it’s furnishings came from old ocean liners. As did the stained glass and other fixtures. Most of the artwork isn’t the real thing, rather, reproductions. The last time I went to Belfast I only went into the Crown for a quick look, not to actually sit down and drink. I remember being in awe of all the historic fittings in this place.

One of more adventurous experiences I had in Belfast was at the Crown. We had been drinking a lot and the music was blaring. Everyone was in high spirits, to say it politely (we were TRASHED). On a dare, I got up onto a barstool and tried to dance in one spot- step dance. That didn’t work as the stool kept moving and I fell off it a few times. So I jumped onto the bar itself and danced there- knocking over glasses and ashtrays and slipping on the wet napkins left behind. A couple other women got up there with me and together we pretended to pole dance- on a pole with pineapple wood carvings. Imagine how THAT felt. Being as drunk as we were, not a one of us noticed the scratches and cuts we promptly inflicted upon ourselves. Pineapple poles just don’t work for this.

The music picked up and everyone pulled us down from the bar; everyone held hands and together, we all did the round-a-bout dance…several rounds before someone ahead (or behind, depending upon how you look at it)- got dizzy and fell backwards. Like a group of dominoes, we all fell in order right after. Drinks went everywhere. The laughter grew. The fun had begun.

I love to be with people who know how to have fun and be respectful at the same time. It is possible. I also prefer being with folks who are not stuck up and snooty and worried about their manners and appearance. Several years ago when I traveled to Ireland with these same people, I decided I would go anywhere with them. Down to earth and real. The group of people I was with is a diverse group- we have ship captains, ship doctors, engineers, builders, iron workers, book authors, Presidents of famous ship building yards…and people like me, history buffs who just want to KNOW and SEE all things ocean liner!

Some of them are millionaires. One would never know it though, because they leave that behind when we’re all together. I asked a book author who was among us,(a multi millionaire) WHY, why hang out with the third class? His reponse grounded me: Because he can’t have any real fun when he is living the rich life. He has to always be on his best behavior; he cannot offend anyone. He cannot eat and drink anything he wants. But most of all, he told me, he likes being with regular people because he doesn’t have to worry about his money being the object of all his attention. Far too often, his “friends” are really only the friends of his bank account, not him. Far too often, women- young and old alike, drift to his side in hopes of getting a cash handout for special favors. He told me he can burp and fart and laugh and fall over and joke about, without the displeasing fingerpointing he usually gets from his first classmates. It was a very educational conversation. We talked for hours. He asked me all sorts of questions- about my life and how I manage to survive on the little income I make. He was utterly shocked that I go to Wal Mart, LOL. And he was impressed with my love of nursing…the one job he stated he could never do. I never had someone ask so many questions about my patients and the ins and outs of my work. He could be a nurse now, he got so much info from me.

Time and time again in my life, I meet people who are filthy rich and yet, extremely unhappy with their lives. It’s strange. People like me dream of being rich, of having all the money in the world to do all those things we so want to do. People like me, who just want to pay their rent and have enough cash left over for food…I used to mock all the rich people. Most still deserve that. But there are a few who would live in my shoes just to appreciate what they have more…and to see, firsthand, that people like me do have more fun because we don’t let our poor points get in the way of life. People are all different. Those who will get up and dance on a pineapple pole with the likes of me are worthy of my respect.

I returned home from Ireland Sunday morning. I was scheduled to stay another week, BUT, my daughters are heading off to college this week. It was all arranged- their Dad was taking care of the details and his friends were going to help. My youngest daughter decided she needed me to be with her, as this is her first time away. So I came home. There is nothing more important than your kids…and it’s an honor to have such good kids who are smart and sassy and…who need their Mom.

I had a GREAT time. We went to Belfast first- to the old Harland and Wolff ship building yards. Those hull cranes are one of the most awesome sites anyone can ever see. Watching them work is something I shall never forget. The sounds and scents of this area are also forever grilled into my memories. I have been there before, but not up close and personal like this time.

We also saw the dry dock where Titanic was once parked…it’s empty now and silent- with a slight growth of grass and other greenery. I’m hoping they will keep this place as it is- a memorial, sort of. Another attraction of Belfast is the Crown Pub. YOU gotta go there. The wood works, glass, and fittings are FABULOUS. The atmosphere is humble and fun- I’ve always thought the world’s coolest people live in Ireland. Now I know it’s VERY much a FACT.

Another coveted stop in my travels was Old Kinsale Head, near Cobh. These are the cliffs off the ocean, where the Lusitania was torpedoed and sank in 1915. We sat in the early morning, in dense fog, and just watched the region open up. We sat where the little kids were sitting all those years ago, for a lunch picnic, as they witnessed the Lucy’s attack and sinking (10 miles off the coast). There are several Lusitania memorials in this area that we went to. It’s a beautiful place and I plan to go back next year!

The final leg of my trip was the Giants Causeway. HUGE cliffs and rocks to climb; funky earth under your feet, and scenery and views of the ocean that we just don’t have here in the US. I wish we did…there is nothing even remotely like it though. We ended up back in Belfast where we hit up several of the little unknown pubs where they cooked up GREAT foods and served BIG glasses of Guiness. Refills always free. Some of us passed out at a couple of these bars, too. Live music by real Irish bands, lots of dancing and laughing- I had a wonderful time and SO WANT to go back.

My friends are still over there. I just got off the phone with them- they are up in County Donegal having the time of their lives. I could hear the fun in their voices. They’re going to Dublin next. I miss them and miss the fun I would be having- but there’s always another time for this. There is not another time to be with my kids as they go off to their colleges. We have a full week of this moving in funstuff. And starting next week, as in the past, I will be going to the colleges to see the girls and bring them homecooked food and things like it. A Mom’s work is never finished. And it’s good to be home.

We’re back. We had some of the best fun any of us have had in a long time. Its always kind of sad to leave such fun behind. Leaving around 1 am Saturday to an unknown destination was worth the time we spent worrying about where we would sleep. I’ve learned not to worry about such petty things. Who needs sleep? There will plenty of time to catch up on that later…Driving north into Maine, we decided to go to Bar Harbor.

Driving for what seemed like forever, we laughed and argued and gossiped and talked gurl stuff…then suddenly we were right at the doorstep to Acadia National Park. We arrived at 6:30am. First things first- hit the ladies rooms and get a bite to eat and some COFFEE (Irish of course).

It’s a big area up there. Bar Harbor and Acadia are in the same region, same towns. To the west is the park- with big mountains and hiking trails and huge rock cliffs to climb. And lots of snowmobile trails. To the east is the ocean. Best of both worlds. Penobscot Bay connects the park to the ocean. Bar Harbor is a tourist attraction in the summer; in the winter it is pretty much abandoned. Its also a fisherman town. Not the deep sea types…but the commercial types. I didn’t know that. And I didn’t know that they go out, way out, in the middle of the winter. A bunch just came back, the town folk were saying. (Are they crAzy, I thought? Talk about Perfect Storm. Who in their right mind would dare disturb the North Atlantic in February? New England fishermen, thats who.)

We went to the hiking trails. The sights to see were almost unbelievable. The fog banks roll in almost daily some of the locals told us. Those weren’t fog banks. They were waves of fog. And huge ones. Tsunamis. The entire region is lost to view. We stumbled along the trails in the fog, which made things a little tricky. Hiking on dry ground is fun enough, but add slushy deep snow and ice… Good thing the people ahead of us knew where they were going. When we reached the summit of this mountain, we could see the world above the fog. It was cool. It was strange seeing seagulls fly over us, and even stranger to smell the ocean. Yet all around us were thick forests with pine trees and rocks and bushes. One couldn’t see 5 feet in front of themselves. Awesome. And freaky. I bet this is what the dark side of the moon looks like, I thought. It didn’t help that we broke into the liquor up there. I suppose my judgment at that point could have been brought into question.

The people in this area were really nice. They are down-to-earth. Everyone I met dresses in blue jeans and T shirts & sneakers & boots. If they are cold, they slap on the wool sweaters. I felt very much at ease up there. Everyone says HELLO and GOOD DAY… I asked the local cop if it was ok to rollerblade around town and she says “Sure”. So we went around, looking in all the windows of the little shops. There were a lot of souvenir shops that were closed. Then we went over to the docks. Since lots of boats steam into the area, I thought I would see real ports. No-just little white wooden docks that are rickedly and wobbly. From the docks I spotted these HUGE rock beaches with even bigger rock cliffs. Wh-how…I didn’t see any real beaches with sand. Just the rocks and boulders. And more FOG. It was getting dark out so that fog looked even more scary. None of us brought a camera. Damb.

At night we went to a local town pub. That place rocks. And rolls. Music, pool, poker. The people there eat meat and potatoes and fish and chips. No South Beach Diet Fare here. My kind of place with my kind of people. No stiff necks sitting up straight at attention, shirt and tie strangling the life out of the wearer, with napkins in the laps. No well groomed ladies with manicures and silky gowns and wearing way TOO many fumes. Most of the people were semi- slobs, like I can be after a few too many… Spill a drink onto your lap or shirt? No big deal. It’ll dry. Drop some food onto your shirt? Who cares. Flick it onto the floor. Walk into a wall or two? No one notices.
Need a cigarette? Just step out the door and ask.

Jenny and Tammy found a poker game and joined that while Kim, Heather and I learned to play pool. Lots of local fishermen ( and women) were around to help teach. And the drinks. Weird mixtures that tasted very innocent but were obviously more potent than drinks we were used too… We were getting just a too little drunk a little too fast…Other folks were stumbling around, knocking over tables and chairs. We only saw one fight, between two guys who no one could understand because they were so drunk. No one seemed to be bothered. We all just laughed.

Then the dancing began. I think everyone in the joint got up. Older folks and younger folks…Everyone was having so much fun. The last thing I remember was looking at my watch and noting the time: 4:30am. :0 I remember dancing to Pink Floyd’s High Hopes- and others were dancing with me, in tune. I’m not the only crAzy-dAzed person who can dance to that music! I remember going around and around and around, and laughing and laughing… Everything seemed as if it were moving in slow motion. I think I might have gone down at that point…
I have no more to remember after that.

I woke up at noon Sunday; apparently I passed out onto some chairs near the pool table. Kim was next to me on the floor; Jenny and Tammy were at a table slumped over. Heather was on the floor under the table. As was everyone else from the night. People were spread out, on the floor for the most part. Seems like everyone was waking up at about the same time I did. The lady who owned the pub recommended we all take some aspirin and drink LOTS of water. She had a bottle and we followed her advice. The headaches were awful.

Off to the Jeep we went; to the public bathrooms and then to get some coffee. Regular, not the Irish kind this time. One of the things we really wanted to do was go see the whales. It’s off season time up there-not too much is open and not too many tourist activities. But the whale watching continues all year round. They say that winter is the best time to see them. It didn’t take long to find a friendly fisherman who was willing to drag us out to the bay and a little beyond. I really wish we had thought to bring a camera.

We got back into the Jeep at 6pm and gassed it up. Time to go home. None of us wanted to leave. We could have stayed another week. Or two. But being the grown ups that we are, we knew we had to get back to our lives and our realities. I highly recommend to anyone and everyone to go away, with no plan, no itinerary, and no suitcases.
Bring a couple pairs of jeans and Tshirts…Just wing it. It’s the spontaneous things in life that bring so much fun. When there is a plan, there is a box you’re locked into. Who wants to be in a box?