Without followers; without original material; without clear intent. Sure I'll start a blog. With two semicolons in one sentence, this might just be me at my most vulnerable.
"My first post" is something I made a long time ago. So I'm damaged goods. Nobody read that one though, and it's since been deleted. I promise not to mention it again.
Anyway, here's a tune I've had in my head recently - The Last Rose of Summer. Did my Grandmother lilt it as she rocked my cradle back and forth? Did she f**k. That is,"no." She would appreciate it though - even if years listening to our local radio station have knocked the corners off her musical tastes. Shannonside Northern Sound does three things particularly well:
- Dickey-dickey accordion & snare-drum trad
- Country music about green fields in Castlepollard. And how green they are.
But The Last Rose of Summer. I came to it through melody rather than lyrics. I imagine I heard the late Frank Patterson sing it somewhere. Somewhere on television that is. Him and his broad vowels. Youtube fails to illustrate this theory, but the song made an impression somewhere along the line. I love it - and the above version is just fine.
I like that Thomas Moore grew up in a Dublin Greengrocers. Lazily, I used to think his father's shop was where Morrissey's butchers is now - on the corner of Camden St and Protestant Row. This is only because Morrissey's looks like it's been there a while. Mr Morrissey, or one of his "and daughters and sons" still uses day-glo posters to show what cuts of meat are on special. Day-glo card and markers, that classic combo.
While I'm on Greengrocers... I learned the term "Greengrocers' Apostrophe" recently, and I laughed.
... and 'Hello.'