O'Fludgery in the grave

I wana live up to the stereotype!!

Well at least part of it. In our circle of Kiwi friends, we've already disappointed two of their greater expectations of us Irish as a group, 1. that we could drink them under the table (not a chance, these guys drink like freaks!), and 2. that we know and can sing a big steaming pile of Irish songs, preferably of the rebel variety. I know more Nirvana songs than trad songs. In fact I only know one 'irish' song, Whiskey in the Jar, due to Metallica! Not knowing any is pretty embarrassing. Just seeing how disappointed some people get, its like they've just realised that leprechauns arent real, and by extension all their mates, Santa, Night Rider and Jesus. We've killed the magic.

At least we can look like we're drinking heavily, but faking a whole set of Irish songs is no easy feat unless you're Dylan Moran. Well this feeling of inadequacy climaxed the weekend before last when all 6 of us went over to stay on my Aunt Aileen and Uncle Toms Farm on the South Island.
It was a fantastic weekend!, involving us bombing around the 1,100 acre sheep farm of stereotypical beautiful New Zealand landscape on a scrambler, a quad bike and a flat bed truck with everyone taking turns at each. Even those of us who could'nt drive got a shot at everything. Hanging out with the cousins on the farm was brilliant, had only really known them as voices over the phone but theyre great craic.

But anyway, on Easter Sunday we had a huge dinner of roast lamb (from one of their own sheep) and various veggies and everything. After our food babies had settled we began eying up their liquor collection in the corner on the floor of the dinning room. There was various cheesy looking styff like Irish Mist, something named after Adare and this New Zealand one that tasted like methylated spirits.

But eventually, out came three 1 litre bottles of Baileys. Unfortunately not all full, but under Toms insistence we all got schtuck in. Again under Toms careful guidance the conversation soon turned to singing. He wanted a song from everyone, and began telling us stories of my fathers visit over about 30 years ago. Apparently, acting as a taxi to drunken father, Tom and Aileen endured a 3 hour non-stop out-puring of songs from the back seat all the way home from Christchurch. They loved it!

This came as a big surprise to both me and my sister. Ive no recollection of my father singing around us, let alone posessing a repertoire of trad and (apparently) colorful rebel songs. Aunt and Uncle were both full of praises for his ability and expected something similar from the 6 of us. He'd told us nothing!

We had nothing to offer them. We shakily sang the choruses to 3 or 4 different songs, Dirty Old town, Fields of Athenry, and Irelands Call. Stuff you can get away with shouting. But it took us all of 3 seconds to do this. So to make up with our short comings, out came the laptop. Fueled by Baileys we looked up the lyrics to songs and sang straight off without knowing the melody. Highlights included Steve singing Take em up to Monto all by himself, Lorraine trying to teach us the chorus to Ride on while we broke our shites laughing, and when we gave up and trad and sang Beatles and Queen songs without trouble.

While we got through a few songs, Rattlin' Bog was my favourite, it felt silly. You could feel the atmosphere being sucked out of the room. Without going into a whole rant about our generation versus another, I felt we kinda sucked.

I got a little bit of revenge though. The next morning we skyped home and made dad sing to us and Tom, not that he minded anyway. Im gonna get him to show us when we get home, but Im determined to learn a few songs before I leave here.

I suppose I am giving out about the fact that out of the lot of us, none of us could/would sing. And I knwo its fairly self concious and I shouldnt be bothered if people are disappointed by these things. But it feels like we're missing something when we cant share like that. And they are really great songs with brilliant history.Cant blame anyone except ourselves (if you care that is). But I will blame my dad nonetheless. Ohhhhhhh yes!!

Heres playlist of stuff Id love to know, any suggestions or criticisms let me know: