Saturday, 29 November 2008

Now we are sixty



On the eve of my 60th


The night before. Posed. Lit. Suspicious. The last of the fifty-somethings.

A few short birthday posts to follow. Candles. Flickers.



11 comments:

Gwil W said...

Lovely to see your warts and all birthda photo. Many congratulations on reaching this millstone. I mean milestone. Yes, welcome to the O60's club mate. Pull up a chair and Nora wil make us a pot of weak tea.

George S said...

Thank you, Gwilym! Ovaltine at the ready. Socks nicely warming on the boiler.

Anonymous said...

...bus pass application in the post.

Happy birthday, George. And many more of 'em.

Padhraig Nolan said...

Let the swinging commence!

Not that sort. You know what I mean.

Sláinte.

Coirí Filíochta said...

Happy birthday George.

grá agus síocháin

love and peace for all who read
this dittie for a sixtieth year

beginning today the fourth week
after All Souls and Samhain eve

born the same day as Phil Myre
who i found out from wikipedia

is a Canadian ice hockey player.

George S said...

Good, but Phil Myre is not as good as Ryan Giggs, Good last line though. - BA

Coirí Filíochta said...

Ah, Giggsy, he was the new Georgie Best, silk and steel. I remember when I stopped watching Liverpool after i moved to London in the early nineties and commited the heretical act of preffering to goggle at Giggsy and co, using the Shankly maxim, that it should be about the quality of the game, and always extended a fair play tribute to the best, and they were the best then. I stopped supporting Liverpool explicitly, until the second half of the 2005 European cup, and since then have been a fan again, dropping the one season afair i had during the Special one's reign at Stamford Bridge, as i only wanted them to win the league just to piss on everyone else's chips.

My first team was Everton, who i was ordered to support by my dad because his uncle had a season ticket, but this was the mid seventies and it was far more sensible for a seven year old to go red, which is what I did, having 15 years at the top as a rabid armchair warrior fighting for the many successes i enjoyed back then, until the final minute of extra time in 1989 when Mickey Thomas brought the empire down.

When i moved to Dublin, i got a job stewarding at Lansdowne and this was the first time i was a regular, real match goer, getting turned on to the rugby during the golden days of O'Driscoll and co and now, only a passing interest, the youthful attraction to the reds, a first lover but the deeper passion, gone as the truth is i was i only went twice to Anfield, and prefer now to watch Dunphy and Johnny Giles do the verbal banter, though now Eamon is off the sauce, the frisson that came with his drink fuelled attacks on terrffied fellow pundits, has gone, and i have been reduced - due to spending most of my time downstairs in my friends gaffe, following - for the first time - I'm a celebrity get me out of here, first of all cheering the vixen wags, but now the game is thickening and the machevelian machenations begun, allowing myself to get sucked in to supporting Dave from Dollar, coz that artfifically enhanced wag, her true colours are coming out now, and really Ezther deserves it, and even Kilroy Silk improved himself with his daily immersion into the bug pit.

Sad, but tis only temporary till the weather gets mild again.

Gwil W said...

hi b a,
and not only is george's b/day on same day as giggs the genius and yr maple leaf ice hockey star super man it's only on same day as c s lewis.
our leader is doubtless uncorking another cabarnet sauvignon even as we speek and i say i don't blame him. yr only three score once.
georgie boy - and in the morn don't forget the prairie oysters, the old dog's raw egg and vinegar hair me grandad swore by, f... me i'm p..... and such.
gwilym (ex- reserve keeper helsby grammar and various sunday leagues)

Coirí Filíochta said...

On the 333rd day of the year

Joel Cohen
Jacque Chirac
Garry Chandling
Louisa May Alcott

and two years previous
to Gabriel Szirtes

Silvio Rodríguez is born,

the son of poor farmers
from Havana Province

San Antonio de los Baños
were tobacco abundently
grows.

Just moving the sounds about, Gee'll be ensconced in the hearth

with a family who love him
all anyone can want, anything more

is a bonus.

Hedgie said...

Welcome to the right side of 60.

Gwil W said...

b a,
re that 333
theres a tasty train poem on p 333 in the new book

it's a fine
bit of verse
from the man
who lives on
the trains

Nice one, George!