I live in a town which up until this evening I’d thought was pretty big. For a town. It’s got a few shops, a few pubs, some petrol stations and other random shite. Its grand. Population? About 10,000 – 15,000. Not massive, but enough to render any inhabitant relatively anonymous to other random inhabitants.
But today I got an impression of how small it actually is. I was asking my friend where the river came out into the sea. ‘Over there, ya know! By the GAA pitch! Its over near the rusty car!’. ‘Oh right, right’. A rusty car is a landmark. Small town!
Nothing else of any significance. I got the head eaten off me earlier for voting for Martin McGuinness in the presidential election (of a few months ago!). This lad’s reasoning was that McGuinness has (supposedly, and most likely) killed, or ordered the killing of people. I can think of at least four former Irish presidents you could say the same of. I said this. His response was the usual ‘Ah that’s different!’. ‘How? Just because it was back in the day?’. ‘Yeah, that was independence!’. ‘So’s what he was fighting for!’. Some people. Thick as vasoline. Impossible to reason with them.
Like gargling peanut butter!
Later.
