Musical Night Life

Apparently, June 21 is Le Jour de Musique in France. This year it was on a Tuesday, so I ended up at the Café en Seine in Dublin . None of the sites I’ve found really do this place justice. It’s the kind of place I would never have thought to go into if the French people I work with hadn’t invited me. Really very nice. I hope to take Carol there someday for lunch; it’s a café during the day and a bar at night.

On Friday, Dell paid for a night out for all the server teams at Johnny Fox’s Pub – the highest pub in Ireland. Technically, geographically, it was the most altitudinous pub on the island. The décor was a bit over the top, but it worked for this place. They managed to pack so many people in by putting the tables in long rows and close together. Forced congeniality at its best. You can see from their web site that they specialize in seafood. I’d have to say their real speciality was entertainment.

The “headliners” were a 4 member band consisting of two young guys playing guitar and banjo, an older man on bass, and an old skinny Irishman in a beret on violin – all playing traditional Irish folk music. The intermission entertainment was a group of dancers – 2 guys and 3 girls doing what I suppose was traditional Irish folk dancing. If you can let go of the cliché for a second, it resembled somewhat the River Dance – a combination of ballet, tap, and clogging. The girls kept running off to change costume, which I found a bit excessive. The 2 guys were pretty good and didn’t seem terribly self-absorbed. It’s not until you see them up close and watch the feet that you realize how complex that style of dance really is.

Anyway, the band came back and played again. To describe the most striking song of the night requires that I set the scene. I’m sitting with the French techs; at the end of our table are the Spanish. Past the Spanish in the corner are the Italians, and behind us all, against the wall are the Germans. The rest of the place is filled with either Irish locals or British tourists. I’m sitting next to a really cool bald-headed Algerian named Kalid. Having set the scene, I’ll now tell that the song played by the afore-described band is none other than Four Non-Blondes’ “What’s Going On?” Not only everyone around me, but even the middle-aged British tourists across the room are all singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

Getting back to Dublin was going to be tricky. At that hour, the trains and buses had all stopped running, and there was some question of whether or not the taxis were going into Dublin – not because of the time, but because of the massive traffic jams from people coming to Dublin for U2’s concerts. I shared a taxi with two French techs who are staying in the same apartment complex as me.