Long-time aficionados know that lately I have been working a back-breaking schedule, pulling 11 hour days M-F and then a few more on Saturday. Sundays are usually reserved for total collapse of mind, body, and spirit.
Consequently I had not had the time to do what I felt was a personal goal: Sit in on an Irish session at a pub. Complicating matters was the fact that I reside in Southern Maryland, a good hour or so from DC or Annapolis where some of the finer pubs are (however, a mere few moments from any bar presenting NASCAR on each of the 15 TV monitors strewn throughout the establishment).
Complicating matters, my wife, the comely Ms. St. John, is working towards a Masters Degree and simply cannot afford the time to join me in any venture at this point.
However, she does recognize my desire to sit in at least once in an Irish session. And she knows that there is a pub, Ri-Ra, in Bethesda MD that has weekly sessions every Sunday, 3-6p. She knows because her son, my step-son, is a regular.
After a particularly grueling work-week, I got up this morning and sat down to play whistle, as I always do for relaxation.
Ms. St. John suggested I go to Ri-Ra and sit in!
Now Bethesda MD is about an hour and a half from my house, particularly since the easiest path is through DC which includes tourists and Sunday drivers from, where else, the State of Virginia.
But I think: What the heck! If I dont do it today, I will never do it!
So I practiced, nay NAILED, my best Mary, yes, Mary Bergin, Matt, yes, Matt Malloy, and of course, my best Joanie, yes, Joanie Madden tunes!
I didnt want to just play. I want to shine, Shine, SHINE!
I check to make sure that there is indeed a session today at
http://www.rira.com/locations/bethesda/index.php
and sure enough there was!
I dress in my lucky curmudgeon outfit, select my favorite whistles and I was off to play!
Since the session was slated to start at 3p, and I was still parking my car at 310p, I feared I was too late. What is the correct protocol? Do you ask to join in? Oh, what the Hell, I thought, I will let my playing do the talking for me!
So I walk into the bar on Elm Street (I had flashbacks of the JFK assassination. Wasnt he shot down on Elm Street?) and was immediately greeted by an employee who informed me:
“Sorry, pal, but the place is closed for a private party. Long and Foster Realty”
“But, but what about the music session?” I stammered…
“I dunno 'bout that. You wanna sit at the bar?”
Stunned, I trodded to the bar and ordered an overpriced Guinness. Forlorned, I looked up at the TV monitor.
It was showing NASCAR.
