Give The Drummer Some...
I'm not sure if any of you have wondered what the wind feels like at the Cliffs of Moher, come closer so I can tell you exactly how they feel. There's something magical about Ireland, magical about the people you come into contact with, and the hospitality shown to you once folks figure out you're not a "typical American tourist". My parents taught me some time ago that our differences are to be learned from, in order for our intellect to grow.
Over the course of my travels, I've held on to this lesson and I've attempted to blend into every scene which I've so delicately been placed into and I've managed to gather passing grades all over the world. The truth is I'm not a fan of stupidity so when I'm abroad the last thing I want to do is come off as being stupid, it kills any ability to return to people and places.
I knew nothing of these cliffs other than the fact they're mentioned as a must see place when visiting Ireland. My buddy, Bobby, insisted we visit the cliffs since they were only a two and a half hour drive away from where we were staying; you already know that I tried to convince him that we could see them tomorrow. It's always tomorrow with me when the jet lag sets in and it's always, "Naaaah, we're doing this now" with Bobby because he knows eventually I'll power through my fatigue and end up shutting down a bar or something with him; to be even more honest, people think we're athletes for some reason.
Actually, there was a visit to Geneva that is a prime example of jet lag and powering through it. I'm pretty sure we landed in Geneva, in the mid morning and by design our bodies were dead tired but we looked at each other and said, "Not today, noooot today" and we found ourselves drinking whiskey and eating French bread until close to 1am, it was both alarming and hilarious that we managed to power through the day(s) and a night (though Bobby did pass out in the grass during an outdoor concert and I thought for a moment he was dead but then realized that neither of us can die when abroad because that would leave the other having to explain said death to our parents).
The wind at the Cliffs of Moher were extremely strong but oddly refreshing, there was sudden downpour of rain which sent us scurrying off into the gift shop which served hot coco and tea; of course I had to have a tea and then peek my head into a corridor which seemingly held a bit of the wind as well. I wasn't supposed to be here, here being Ireland, here being on the other side of the ropes attempting to have a picture taken. Look, don't worry, I wasn't arrested or reprimanded because I'm quick, also because I didn't make a scene. "OMG, he must be American, look at his disregard for the rules...", nope none of that was said, instead, I was like, "Aaaaaay yo, give the drummer some and snap this pic real quick"!
This year marks the first year out of the last four in which we're not drinking ridiculous amounts of Guinness and Jameson while listening to voices of men and women who remind us of what home feels like. There are a few places which house people who feel like home and soon, hopefully soon, I'll be able to touch down with a smile on my face and jet lag in my back pocket to embrace said places and people.
2020 has been a year to remember and instead of being overly resentful, I'm overly grateful that I have memories to fall back on when I'm thinking of where to go next.
"Aaaaay yooooo, I'll be there sooon, give the drummer some..."