An Irish Faery Tale

Our hero, Rory O' Donoghue is caught by nightfall on his way to sell stockings at a neighboring fair. Upon seeing a well-lit home, he peeks in to find a very old man who bids him, by name, to come in. At this point, things begin to get weird. A chair pulls itself up by the fire, and the old man requests Rory to have a seat. The old man then declares to the air around him, "Rory O' Donoghue and myself would like to have our supper." An intricate dance of inanimate objects ensues as dinner makes itself for the old man and his guest. After they'd eaten, dinner cleans itself up, and the old man offers to Rory: "Do you know, Rory, how I spend my nights here? I spend one-third of each night eating and drinking, one-third telling stories, and the last third sleeping. Sing a song for me now, Rory."

This proves to be a test Rory cannot pass, as it turns out, he's never sung a song in his life. The old man, in a negotiable mood, requests a tale, then, instead. This, also, is impossible for our hero, for he's never told a tale in his life. "Off out the door with you, then!(13)" replies the old man, and the door slams itself on Rory on his way out. So, Rory strikes out along the darkened roadside, and after walking awhile comes upon a campfire.

Beside campfire is a "man" roasting some meat upon a spit. The man welcomes Rory to his fire by name, and requests that Rory turn the meat on the spit for him, but not to burn it. No sooner does Rory take hold of the meat, then the man disappears, and the meat begins to talk to Rory. In his horror, Rory leaps up and takes off down the road, with the meat and the spit in hot pursuit. In the end, they catch up with him and beat him about the back and neck as he runs. Upon spying a house, Rory opens the door and runs in. Lo and behold, it is the same house he had spent time in earlier that evening, and the old man is in bed. The old man welcomes Rory by name, and asked what had happened to him. Rory related the tale, and the old man responds:

"Ah, Rory! If you had a story like that to tell me, when I asked you, you wouldn't have been out until now. Lie here on the bed now, and sleep the rest of the night."

The next morning, Rory awakens with his bag of stockings under his head, and not a house to be seen around him.

http://www.clannada.org/theology_faerymyth.php

Floating down the Rhine, and my last wishes

Recently spent a nice week in Basel, Switzerland. The best part was definitely jumping in the Rhine river and being carried through the city by the rather strong current...

I recommend real sports like this to anyone who is feeling bored and zombie-like due to too much internet.

Other recent activities include visiting the Neckar Hôpital des Enfants Malade in Paris (the Children's Hospital), where a friend's two-year old had to have surgery on a lymph-node. Their baby is just fine, but I also met Julien, a near-three year old who won't talk and mysteriously had a broken eye-socket and what we suspected were cigarette burns. He gave me a hug once, but when we turned to leave he shot the most intense, make-you-feel-guilty-for-leaving look. But still, we left.

In other news, you may find below my wishes for when I am old and senile:

Don't be sorry or sad for me,
be happy for my return to innocence and simplicity,
and teach me again and again not to fear-
for fear is itself the only thing to fear.
And give me poets
to calm me and keep me company.
And children with a good heart,
and patience
for an old storyteller.
The truth is the only truth.
Don't patronize me,
but do make me laugh
with genuine, good, simple humor.
Rabbits and hats falling.
For the record, I have always talked to myself aloud...
And NO television!
Let me be free, though,
no prisons or walls or jackets-
let me wander free,
together with the poet and the child.
Protect me from burglers, swindlers and rapists,
and tuck us softly
into the future.

These are my wishes. (and music).