here's to you

i was just in galway couch surfing of all things! it was another canadian i met the week before, her and her partner were in kilarney traveling. they are both from toronto. anyways, turns out this girl had a spare mattress in the living room and her roommate, three irish guys and another american girl, didn't mind that people stayed over. so i had my first couch surfing experience. it made a difference having a contact in the city i was traveling to. someone who knows the ropes and places to go and cites to see.

my first hour involved meeting a drunk in a bar. he told me that i was doing well by getting out and traveling around. at least that is what i assumed he was trying to get across to me, he was quite drunk. he invited me to another pub to by him a beer after the barlady told him he had had enough. i politely declined saying i was happy here, but that he should enjoy himself away from me. he said in restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone. know who said that? simon of garfunkle.

later that day i stopped at a pub that said there was live trad music. i chatted with a man leaned 'gainst the wall. small talk about life, the universe and everything ... mostly about traveling though. the music came on shortly after he left, almost like they were waiting for him. the music played in the background as another man entered the bar and took up residence in the spot my old friend had vacated. he spent too much time talking about other people passing by behind their back in a manner that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't trying to talk behind their back.

the barman brough him a sandwich and he thanked him politely. he told the next man, behind his back but not really, that he wasn't thanking him because he did nothing for him. the same goes for you he said to the man that passed by next. the sandwich came with a tea and he sipped on it quietly, but only because he mouth was otherwise occupied.

he turned to me and caught my eye. before i had turned away he snapped at me what are you looking at paul simon ? hu !

to the bar's delight he performed, as he apparently usually does, a poem he made up on the spot. it was about barmen named brian and the sandwiches he made and about christmas, fiddles and the like.

later that evening at a live performance the band closed with Mrs Robinson. i think someone was trying to tell me something. the next day i went to church and thanked God for peter and art and the wonderful music they made, and for making people see them in me.