Fr Vincent Sherlock
I’d not like to be in Dublin these days and especially not after the full time whistle blew on the ‘Third Sunday of September’, dealing yet another blow to Mayo’s dream of glory – a dream that, I’m convinced, will come true.
Though a regular enough visitor, I’d not claim to know Dublin. A few years ago, I found myself there on a sunny summer’s day and I had a few hours to kill so I parked the car. A quick text to a friend led to a short but welcome lunch. After that I wandered around for a while with absolutely no ‘agenda’! I spent an hour or more on Grafton Street and bought nothing – well, an ice cream – so I helped the economy in a very small way. I was reminded of Nanci Griffith’s song ‘On Grafton Street’ and imagined her, as a visitor to Dublin, searching for, and finding, some space on what is a very crowded street.
Nanci speaks of “buskers” in her song and there certainly was a fair share of them on show that day, as there is every day I’m sure. There was so much talent on an open street. There was a very lively group called KeyWest – absolutely excellent. Around another corner there was a woman sitting on a window sill and a man on the footpath. One had a fiddle and the other a guitar and they were playing The Foggy Dew – pure class. I think I was the only one standing there and they played as if they were playing to a sell out concert in the 3Arena. What is it that allows people get lost in a tune? Whatever it is, long may it remain. Along the street there was a variety of musicians and musical styles. Little groups stood a while and listened to each, respecting the talent offered and maybe throwing an odd coin into a waiting guitar case.
Pavement
A little further on I saw a dog lying on the pavement, looking at a tennis ball. The dog, the towel he lay upon, the ball were all made out of sand. Somehow rushing feet left all untouched. Respect for an art form – proper order too!
I think the “act” that most caught my eye, never said a word. It was a sculpture in stone, of sorts, featuring five people, three standing and two sitting. One held a guitar. It was the hottest day of the year and the sculpture stood calm. I stood and watched.
An Australian woman said to me: “Do you want to see what happens when you put in a coin?” She rushed forward, leaving her group of fellow visitors, to put a coin in the bucket. I said: “No, you’ve done that already, I’ll do it”; so I put in a coin and the sculpture bowed in appreciation.
I have to say I enjoyed the time spent that day. I went to the Carmelite Church too and was amazed to see so many people there, in the middle of a sunny day, just sitting quietly and praying before the Blessed Sacrament. I thought of the ‘sculpture’ down the street and felt certain that Jesus too would acknowledge the recognition and bow, even a little, to those approaching him in prayer. I thought of the dog, towel and tennis ball made of sand and remembered Jesus bending down on another street one day, and writing in the sand – the dust.
It’s good sometimes to notice what’s happening ‘on the street’.
***
From the back seat: They were coming home from Mass. “That was so boring,” said the husband. “I know”, replied the wife and continued; “The choir was so off tune, it was horrendous.” “What was the priest on about? I don’t believe I caught a word of it. He was all over the shop.” “I’m frozen,” she said “that church is like an ice box”. “You’d think they’d do something with the place,” he was on a roll “and, as for the readers, my God, not a clue”. “So boring,” they said together.
Then a head popped up in the back seat, and their young son leaned towards the front of the car, caught the ears of the analysists in the front seat and said: “I don’t know, I thought it wasn’t a bad show for 20c!”
***
I enjoyed that: That’s a line Ryan Tubridy likes to use! Often when one of his musical guests performs, the camera returns to Ryan who taps a pen or a piece of paper on the desk, looks across the studio to the performer(s) says “thanks” and adds, “I enjoyed that”. It’s such a believable and natural reaction to something that has left us feeling contented or moved. Quite often, it’s linked with music or a song. You can see why. Recently I spoke with two groups of Transition Year Students in one of our secondary schools. As I walked with the TY Co-Ordinator to meet them I felt a bit overwhelmed by the constant stream of young students along a very packed and busy corridor. I was brought into one of the classrooms and the throng on the corridor had been whittled down to a group of TY Students. I looked at them and they at me. I found my voice, noticed their kindness and the time flew. “I enjoyed that”!