![]() |
| Better Times, Dublin |
Celebrating The PJ's 50th Year as a Charivari of the Lit'ry Life | WritersClearinghouse@yahoo.com | Richard Carreño, Editor | No. 272 June 2026| Meeting @ Philadelphia © MMXXVI WritersClearinghouse. | See us @ "PJ" via Facebook. Donations via PayPal. Dedicated to the memory of Ralph J. Carreño. Nothing herein may be published in any other media without the permission of the Editor. Est. 1976 in Fabyan, Connecticut
Celebrating ....
CELEBRATING The PJ's 50th YEAR! * www.junto.blogspot.com * Dr Franklin's Diary * Home of the Philly Cheapskate*Contact @ WritersClearinghouse@yahoo.com * Join WritersClearinghouse at Facebook, Instagram, etc. *Meeting @ Philadelphia * Empowered by WritersClearinghouse.
Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts
Wednesday, 20 May 2020
Friday, 6 September 2013
National Gallery of Ireland
I was running late for a dinner with friends. Fortunately, the National Gallery of Ireland was not far from our appointed restaurant, the Saddle Room in the Shelburne Hotel on St. Stephan's Green. I gave myself, roughly, about a half hour for a quick 'drive-by' at the museum. I know. I know. Sacrilegious, but I did have that dinner date.
The receptionist looked kindly -- at least I hoped she'd be forgiving.
'If there's just time to enjoy one treasure in your collection, what would you recommend?'
Without hesitation the kindly lady said, 'To my mind, it would be The Taking of Christ by Caravaggio. Upstairs to the left.'
I was intrigued by the quick response. Check, Caravaggio, really Michelangelo Mersi of Caravaggio. Profligate lady's man. Even said to be a murderer. But the painting? Never heard of it.
The receptionist sensed my hesitation.
Sunday, 1 September 2013
Teed Off
BY
RICHARD CARRENO
[WRITERSCLEARINGHOUSE
NEWS SERVICE]DUBLIN
1.
I alighted from my Philadelphia flight, at Shannon in western Ireland, like a hole in one. It might have seemed that a rump of the Philadelphia Orchestra was also deplaning. Round and round on the luggage carousel were hard-framed plastic containers that might otherwise safe-keep a viola or bass. Hardly. Packed were tools of the sport. That would be golf, and the Shannon terminal, if anyone needed to be reminded, was redolent with adverts claiming the virtues of the Irish version of Scottish sport. Just moments before, I was sharing a first-class cabin full of doctors and lawyers who, upon touching down, almost instantly morphed into locker-room jocks on French leave from patients, clients -- and wives. I was in, of course, First Golfer Bill Clinton's favorite Irish airport, linking to the place nearby, Ballybunion Golf Course, where the ex-President most often retreats in his non-fund-raising downtime.
Welcome to the Old Sod, otherwise the land of poets, lyricists, playwrights, the world's foremost breeders of warm-blood horses, and equally foremost rail birds who wager on them. And the Dublin Horse Show.
Nah. For most Americans, at least those middle-aged professionals who pack mid-week flights for a few days on the greens, welcome, rather, to the other Emerald Isle -- Golf Land.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


