A Cold Night On Northern Ireland’s Coast

I’m excited. I mailed everything for my EP out today. Know what it costs to overnite 2 CD’s to Pennsauken, NJ from Fort Wayne, IN? No clue? Well, it’s exactly $39.62. Rachel Ray could probably eat all day for that much. I bet she could start a show about it. Oh, wait…

Today, I had the Pepper Blue Steak Sandwich at Panera for lunch. That’s good stuff. It’s on the short list of things I could eat everyday. Other notables: tomato, basil and mozzarella on toasted bread, and my mom’s “king” pie. I call it that, because if I was king, I’d demand that it be available at every meal. I’d be a fat king. Just, equitable, and fair, but really fat. I like food too much. I know I’m not alone on that one either.

It rained a lot today. The rain spitting all day and the cars rushing along the wet roads below my apartment reminded me of Ireland and another food story.

My band Rudisill was on tour in Ireland last November. It was Thanksgiving day in America, but just another day in Ireland. We had just fixed and eaten an extremely large Thanksgiving dinner (5 turkeys) with all our Irish friends and family. I hadn’t slept much and wasn’t feeling very well. Still, we were headed to a Irish pub along the coast where they played traditional music in a jam setting.

It was a warm, friendly bar on a cold, wet night in a small town. The pub was packed, standing room only, and the air was thick with cigarette smoke. Everyone was having fun, but I just couldn’t deal with the heat, noise and smoke. I felt like I was going to get sick. There really wasn’t anywhere to go, so I headed outside into the dark, cold night.

The air was refreshing at first, a nice alternative to the hot pub. The novelty soon wore off. The wind was biting and relentless. It cut right through my leather jacket and straight into my bones. I turned my collar up and tried to walk with wind, but the rain rode the gusts and would crash against me in waves. I was cold, wet and sick. The small town was empty and, save for the sound of the wind, completely silent. No one was on the streets, no one but me. I explored every road in town and made my way down along the coast where there were no streetlights.

The ocean was violently beating against the rocky beach as I passed. I stopped and stared out into the black sea. It seemed so unforgiving, relentless. There was no letting up. The sea was a violent drunk on a rampage. There was no horizon; the sea was one with the night sky. They were accomplices in this crime. The night sky would not expose the belligerent sea for what it was. It turned a blind eye to the drunken beast.

I looked up into the starless sky and suddenly felt very alone, one man versus the elements of the earth. In defiance, I turned and started walking directly into the wind. As a display of will power, I opened my jacket and let the wind cut into me. Inside, my stomach was churning, but I would not let this storm have its way with me. I continued on up the hill, into the wind.

By the time I found my way back into town, everyone was waiting for me in the car. They were just about to go looking for me. I was happy to see them. The warm car ride home was full of pleasant stories of new friends, good drinks, and creative music.