Oh no, it was another unproductive weekend - unless you were producing shouts of laughter, in which case it was a weekend of overflow production! I did at least one thing that sort of resembled work, and that was helping my sister to move to her new apartment in Westfield. Afterwards we were feeling a bit parched, so myself and my sister and my sister's friend Mary headed over to the nearby Sons of Erin for a refreshing beveridge or several.
The most popular Irish club in the Valley is Springfield's John Boyle O'Reilly Club, a place where my family rules! But the Sons of Erin are an equally cool bunch and there is no real rivalry between them, since wherever Irish people gather there is a sense of brothership. On our way inside, we paused by the memorial to those who lost their lives on Septemeber 11, 2001 in the Pioneer Valley.
A considerable time later, upon leaving the joint, my sister and I paused for Mary to take our picture by the wall mural meant to represent an Irish nature scene. So we look like we're in Ireland, but only if Ireland were a cartoon.
Being Irish is a big part of my family history and the forces which shaped who I am, but I don't take this ethnic trip too far. Being 100% American is good enough for me.
In the course of moving, for some reason we made a movie. It has something to do with an antique portrait of my Great Grandfather on my mother's side.