Thursday, January 3, 2008
Will it stick?
The last time it snowed with any purpose in this country, the punt was the currency of choice and unemployment was more than just a a great way to have a lie in. Back then, it fell with the force of a priests trousers at an Altar boys sports day and coincidentally or not, covered everything in beautiful white gold. Who can forget school pipes bursting and freezing leaving us to innocent snow related fun. Some people say the last Ice Age was 8000 years ago, I say it was more like 1985.
Today, a few brief flutters of snow fell on Dublin city. Enough to stir the memories and flutter the sentimental hearts of big fat grown up children. I was half thinking of using my impending birthday as an excuse to go to sleep with my head in the oven, but with a combination of it being an electric and a nostalgic overdose, I ripped up the suicide note and started googling 'snowman blueprints'. The conversation in work, which usually has me reaching for the emergency rope, was replaced with jolly retellings of long, cold days of snow fights and frostbite. I recalled with youthful glee how I once emptied a bin of fresh snow on a guy from my road, from the top of my garage, only to let the whole thing drop and leave him with a permanent limp. Back in the 80's, limps were cool. Or the time when I lay in bed and my dad came crashing though the ceiling after he'd been emptying the attic off snow and slipped.
Of course, with the sweet, comes the bitter. It was in 1985, when in an evil act, one of the tough guys from Orwell Park dug up my dead goldfish Rambo (still buried in his Sindy house wardrobe) and threw his helpless corpse at me, in a snowball wrapping. I'm glad I gave him that limp
Then there was glass hidden in snowballs, Tying children to lampposts and leaving them out over night and Watching cars skid to a sickening crash. They were great days.
Today's snow probably won't be there tomorrow. The Celtic Tiger doesn't do winter wonderlands, unless it's got a 20 euro entrance fee and is on in the RDS, but tonight I may go to bed dreaming anyway..
Now what was it that JJ72 said once?
Oh yeah, "we're fucking shit, no I mean it. Terrible'
Labels: Gerry Farrell