Ma Hogan -she knows how to pint...

There's a wee tiny teeny tawny atomy-size of a place just after opening up in the alleyway across the street from the ghost of Javas in Catherine St.

On the outside it's teeny tiny, on the inside it's positively voluminous, how is this possible? Well of course there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.

It's a tardis.
Some timelord or other must have stopped off recently in Catherine St. (for a few scoops) and lost his keys or something.It happens. The minute you go in the door you have to go down a step or two, and you must negotiate steps to the toilet also; what are these steps if not clear evidence of Anti-Dalek features installed by the previous owner?

It's dark and red and low-ceilinged and poky and has a nice almost-nefarious 'Mos Eisley Cantina' feel. They pour an exceptional Guinness and a robust pint of Squeamish so do by all means check it out if you're down that way.

Pleasant game of '45' in Mary Jo'Hogan's

Killer Kabaret

To me, the very best indicator of a quality show is that it sells out completely and extends it's run; I didn't get to see Killer Kabaret in the unfringed, there wasn't any tickets; it extended it's run and I got to see it last night.

Last night it had to start early, because The Limerick Writers use the same space to meet and they had it booked. I made my way to the Locke Bar through the foulest of weather to see a show that I presumed, between seven o'clock start and the night that was in it, would not be that well attended.

Not a bit of it. The place was black, and once the show started, it was easy to see why:

Of the five participants; any one of them is worth the ticket price; any one of them could play the lead in a serious play, and anyone of them could be the star of a big stage musical. As a group they make a powerful combination.

'Killer' is a straight up musical show along the theme of murder. The cast begin as inmates of some strange Beckett-version of death-row, and throughout the night transform into Killers/victims/accomplices and inmates again through the combination of songs dialogue and dramatic, almost sudden, costume changes. The songs are set-up and given context by short interchanges and snatches of dialogue; it's a treat to see how creatively the team link each piece in turn. The musical accompaniment is excellent and subtle enough that it enhances but never overpowers performers who, without the aid of microphones, must fill the room with voice alone.

It isn't theatre, but it is theatrical, it isn't a musical but it is all music, it isn't a simple group with a song list or a live concept album, it's a heady mixture of all of the above.

It works really, really well. It's creepy, it's moving, it's hilarious. There is nobody I know that I wouldn't recommend this show to. It's sold so well that it's bound to come back again.

Go see it.

'Killer Kabaret': A Bottom Dog production performed by Kathleen Turner, Jean Wallace, Jean McGlynn , Nigel Dugdale and Liam O'Brien. Music by Dave Irwin.

unfringed awards

EDIT:
The show is finally coming back: it has been re-vamped and expanded and scaled-up and will hit the Belltable Wed 9th - Sat 12th November. See it.details

Johnny B Notgoodenough.

I went out on the town last night; to the 'new' Flannerys.
Flannerys of old was the birthplace of Impact Theatre, factfans.

There's been a fair amount of changes since then but most recently the whole bar has expanded to include the area of the building next door that always had broken washing machines outside it...
What a smoking section it is! By far and away the best in town: dry, secluded, large, with it's own bar (so you don't have to be going in and out for your beer) and best of all WARM.
And although there is tellies there, and my default setting is 'agin' tellies in pubs ; I was glad of them there last night because I was able to watch the Late Late show debut of the 'Rubberbandits' in Limerick with a bunch of Limerick heads.
The bandits themselves were grand,- it wasn't the show-stopping performance that Blindboys' contribution to 'Liveline' was the other day, but it was great to see and feel the pride in the room. There was a deafening and spontaneous cheer at the mention of 'Donkey Fords'.
All too soon the spot was over and Johnny Logan had just began to sing his big christmas number when the sound went off.


There was a deafening and spontaneous cheer for that as well.

I love Limerick.

Toms II: the re-opening...

Well I knew I'd hate it. But that's because Tom's has been a bit of a constant in a changing world for me over the past decade. Tom's is where I learned to sing in public.
Tom's is where my own play was performed to a packed and appreciative house.
Tom's was a place where I saw Tim the storyteller do his thing (to an enraptured crowd and not one tourist among'em). Tom's was Tom's and I don't like to think of so much as a light bulb being changed in the place.

In fairness to the new regime they've given it the love and attention that was overdue.
Critics of Tom's-of-the-past may have found it a little grotty around the edges and this cannot be said of the latest incarnation. When I went last night to see the New Tom's I realised that it isn't there yet. A pub is the furniture and decor yes, but really a pub is the people who drink there and the sort of things that can happen, and it's all a bit early for deciding if that unique atmos is still there or if it's gone yet.

My three greatest fears have already been assuaged: No telly, No music*, No removal of the beautiful paintings. So I must seek other details to whinge about.

I will whinge about this then; they've blocked up the window that opened to the back, and instead, along with the 'facade' they've installed a false 'film-set' window with a light-bulb behind it. IT'S A COMPLETE LIE!

Erm, what else... There's no small stools anymore. So you sit on a high stool or somewhere along the walls looking at the folk who sit on high stools, or else you stand.

This means the place will handle more people when it's busy but I cant see it being quite as comfortable when it's quiet. The biggest change in all fairness is actually just the lighting scheme. Tom's II is a lot darker, and the new innovation of candles everywhere become's logical when you realise that you probably couldn't see without them. It's really quite cosy; it hasn't become a sports bar or anything horrific like that... Is it the same? No, but as far as do-ups go they've given folk a new reason to visit, and regulars such as meself very little to complain about.

It's a very interesting use of space, I'd have never thought of that.

(*EDIT: I got the music bit wrong, The new system is piped music and the Seshoons seem to be gone forever, also one of the familiar faces in this photograph is soon to be working elsewhere)

Photos stolen from Bock the robber, check him out he do be good.

Tom Collins is dead, Long live Tom Collins's

[EDIT: Since this post Toms has re-opened]

Tom's is shut and set to re-open Friday(hopefully) under new management.

New Nancy's management.

I suppose that everyone feels, of their own local,- that there is nowhere else quite like it in the world but certainly Tom's has got to be the last of a dying breed.

For a start, there's the paintings.
Now I know Tom's isn't the first pub in the world to have art on the walls but Micheal Collins's lovingly rendered Irish breakfasts, Spanish sunsets and Limerick 'heads' gathered all around you as you drank,-most definitely contributed to the place's unique atmos. As well as regulars and proprietors past and present there was celebrated vagrant 'Sammy Joyce'  with his empty pockets and Iconic mayor Jim Kemmy ( floating in the air over the the space where a bridge named after him was and then wasn't).
The characters on the walls echoed the history of the bar as much as the authentic decor.

With enough squeamish inside you, you'd think you were in the teachers lounge in Hogwarts. 

There was the music, or rather it's absence. Daytime, the pub was almost silent in comparison to other watering holes, (lyric FM was piped apologetically quietly) and the Monday/Wednesday seshoon was only ever really acoustic, making it fairly easy to avoid if you preferred conversation to entertainment (in other words if your man with the beard and glasses was singing).

Our new Nancy's overlords subscribe to the policy of music piped in all night getting increasingly louder until one is slowly deafened by closing time.  This seems to be be par for the course in bars, particularly ones aimed at 'the young people'. I believe it's a subtle way of bringing peoples heads closer at the same time as lightening the burden of making conversation so 'copping off' becomes more likely. Doesn't work for me, I hates it.

But decor and music aside, what maketh a pub a pub anyway? 

I believe that it's all in the televisual arrangements. A pub without large screens for people to enjoy sporting events on is probably losing money from somewhere. Thank god I don't have the worry or responsibility of keeping people employed and a business solvent and it's coming from this position of distant powerlessness that I say:' NO to any improvement whatsoever ever.'

Especially of the televisual arrangements.

Telly isn't pub and pub isn't telly.
The real feeling I have about Tom's at the moment is the feeling that I'm taking part in one of those home-improvement-makeover programmes,  where your neighbour or parent or some 'designer' kick you out of your home for a few days so they can destroy it and point a camera in your face when you have to say things like: 'that's very interesting use of space,-I never would have thought of that'.

So far they seem to have fixed wiring and plumbing and done up the smoking section. Which is all good and necessary.

Latest news is they have painted the name as was before, so that bodes well...

Any way, it re-opens sometime soon (latest estimate is Friday) and when I re-enter it will be with extreme trepidation. And, of course, I'm going to hate it:  unless the work going on for the past week was just skilled artisans removing everything from the place only to replace each object with an exact replica.

Well I'll try and I'll try, and I'll do what I can do.

It's the march of time, living in these troubled times...

see 'Toms II..the re-opening..' in December of this blog] 

Photos stolen without so much as a 'by-your-leave' from Darwin, Bock and others.

Going to my happy place

The Monday night in Toms seems to be turning into something very special indeed. Or to put it another way, it’s gone back to the golden age, craic-wise. Why this is or how long it may continue, I can only speckle-ate; certainly the recent influx of talented flip-top heads has something to do with it; of that there can be no doubt.

There are many new faces, new voices, new instruments and new songs, as well as new ways of doing old songs. ‘Tis a Seshoon and a half!- I kid you not.
Also it seems that the Nordy-man has two different voices; the quiet one for the more subdued evenings, and a big belting room-filler for the nights when he’s playing with full cacophony of guitars.

Go on the Nordy-man y’good thing!

You would have had to have had have had been there!

Tom Collins Monday night sesh,
Ole! Ole-Ole-Ole!
I feel like I’ve been following a crap football team for years and tonight they bet Man U by 5-nil.

It was glorious brothers, let me tell you that much. It was one of those great, great nights. Why?- I do not know. It seemed that between myself, ‘the psychic gangster’ and the ‘man-who-is-gateswide’ there was little by way of energy and enthusiasm to begin with, but the people listened, liked, applauded and, best of all joined in; and, were so really good that ‘the craic’ as they say, snowballed into something magnificent, special, and wonderful. You would have had to have had been there and everybody in the room knew it. Highlights included a tin whistle player who was a session unto himself, and a version of ‘working class-hero’ that would put John Lennon to shame.
So what’s the secret of a truly, truly great seshoon? A brilliant musician or two and an open approach to willing participants, (this is also incidentally the secret of a truly awful seshoon depending on the ingredients). I think basically that all fields of human endeavour can be crystallised into either the Steve Davis or Alex Higgins camp; either you are a decent nice guy who plays it straight because he knows that the final scoreboard is the important one, or else you are a talented but irresponsible asshole who will throw away everything for the sake of a special type of glory that might only last five minutes.
The Tom’s seshoon is a Hurricane Higgins if ever there was one, it could be managed like many’s the other session, with a closer eye on consistency and quality, and a few more tried and trusted crowd-pleasers; but if it was, we would never have the craic as was tonight. Yes! Yes! Yes! This is what I love and this is what I believe in.

You would have had to have had been there. I think that is the special thing about ‘live’ stuff. Seshoons vs Recordings or Thayture vs Film/Tv it all boils down to the same thing: transience. I love the transient forms of expression, maybe because life itself is transient. This is probally why I hate to have anything theatrickle recorded.

In attendance tonight, but unfortunately not singing, was the unbecoming lady and he had much relevant to say on the subjects of ‘readings’ vs plays and the state of thayture today which I will be expounding upon (basically robbing all of his points for this blog) but not tonight as I’m most definitely the worse for weather.

EDIT: I wrote this last night when I came in, and I’ve cleaned it up a bit this morning for legibility, but I haven’t bothered doing anything to this last bit because I think there’s something quaint about the way I finished up.

My cat is crawking all over ne inan irritating but nonetheless comforting wat as I write this. And that is also nice and cool while at the same time discomfiting. And that’s’ a good enough sign to sign ogfff.

Tom Collins Monday night sesh.

I’m a firm believer of the maxim that 'you don’t have to say much to say what you mean'. As an illustration of how a single pen-stroke can speak volumes,-on the wall, behind the bar in Tom Collins, a newspaper headline has been cut out and placed for everyone to see. It says; ‘There’s nothing like a good sing-song to give society back its’ voice’ and someone, (either a member of staff or a long-armed patron,) has underlined the word ‘good’.
Just one stroke of the pen is all it took and high praise becomes brutal criticism.
As an act of expression, I think it’s genius, but considering all the sing-songs and all the people who’ve taken part over the years in Tom Collins, I think it’s a bit unfair. After all, we cant know from this review which night, which singer, which month, which year is addressed with such a bitter response, unless they mean all of them, and if they do, well as I said; it’s unfair.

Unfair? Unfair you say? This from the same man who has spent almost the past week praising/knocking stuff on th’interweb and without the economy and brilliance of that mystery underliner might I add! Unfair? Is there no end to the man’s hypocrisy!

I’m not being a hypocrite.

You’re not? - Well how come your head has just split up into two separate voices?
Is that not proof positive, if any were needed, that what were dealing with here is a two-faced double thinking, equivocating hypocrite!

No that’s just a rhetorical device.

You’d like to think that wouldn’t you! You pensioned-off puddle-of-penguin-piss! Well riddle me this, Socrates; if it’s just ‘a rhetorical debate’ why is one of the voices so aggressive and making all these personal comments, eh? What about that? - You suet-selling, toupee wearing wankshaft! Can’t answer that one, can you?

It is the bloggers...

You festering baboon!

Oh be quiet.
It is the blogger’s fantasy that everybody in the world is secretly reading their pronouncements and admiring their opinions, which (in the blog wet-dream) are so accurate and well expressed that people everywhere have no option but to slavishly adopt them as their own. If it is the reality that their true audience is about five people, and four of those read no further than a headline: ‘What’s he on about today?’ (click to:) ‘Oh Tom Collins’ (click away:) that’s not how the blogger thinks of it, oh no. In the bloggers mind, world leaders pause before every major decision and think, ‘ That blogger was dead right about this thing, I’m so glad I read it. Really helped clarify my thoughts, also I must pop into Toms when this summits over’.
It might be fantasy to imagine a million readers but I think it’s a helpful one when it comes to writing responsibly. It’s not enough to underline the word ‘good’ and leave it at that. I got the advice earlier on in the week to always praise and never niggle; after all there are enough begrudgers in the world and if you sincerely wish to promote an event or individual, surely you should describe them well and leave out the bad bits?
I wont be following this advice. The way I see it, I have an obligation to my millions of fantasy readers to say what’s good about things I didn’t like, and to say what’s less than perfect about the things I loved.
True objectivity is impossible of course, and no one should pretend to have attained it. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t something worth striving towards. So, back to Toms;
I couldn’t be objective about the music in Toms because even if I’m not playing or singing myself, my heart is with whoever is. To niggle with a performance in Toms would not only be a pointless crime but I would also risk alienating my own pals so
It’s been quite a challenge to think what to say about Toms, or how to say something that tries it’s best to be objective. I did think of reviewing the audience, but that didn’t work. So finally I came up with this:

The session in Toms is completely random. It is organic and unpredictable by nature and that’s what makes it so great. On the other hand, that’s also what makes it unreliable in terms of quality. The recession, aggressive poaching by a rival bar, and whatever natural cycle these things work by; has meant less customers and musicians of late, a situation that has drained it a little of its pep. This quieter session is preferred by some, and in terms of music, it probably is an improved environment to perform in, but I don’t prefer it. I like the pub to be full of noise and craic and people. Monday had a good vibe, it was neither sedate nor raucous and wont go down in history as the ultimate Toms session of all time, but there was a good mix of musicians, (three really good ones, augmented by a few enthusiastic if technically limited ones) and a happy crowd. The End.

Notice how easy it is to lose your balls when you’re talking about people you know.