òran mór

Glowing with the approach of St. Patrick's Day

I always loved that ole bit of poetry that goes “In Spring, a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of St. Patrick’s Day…” or something like that.

Whatever the quote (yes, I know the real one), it is that time of year when we find people really DO want to listen to a variety of Irish songs and tunes…some they know, and some they have yet to discover. Well, we have a bunch of dates coming up that you may want to mark on the calendar…and we hope to see you soon so we can play the stuff you know, and maybe introduce you to a new favorite!

• March 15, 7-10pm  @ Ri Ra, Portsmouth, NH
• March 16, 11:30a-1:30pm @ Brooksby Village Retirement Community, Peabody, MA (as Sligo Road w/ Terry Weir) 
• March 17, 1-4pm  @ Ri Ra, Portsmouth, NH
• March 17, 7:30-10:30pm  @ Feile Restaurant, Wells, ME
• March 21, 5:30-8:30pm  @ The Port Tavern, Newburyport, MA (as Sligo Road w/ Terry Weir)
• March 22, 7-10pm  @ Ri Ra, Portsmouth, NH
• March 29, 7-10pm  @ Ri Ra, Portsmouth, NH

This coming Sunday is Feb. 14, Valentine’s Day…when thoughts of love fill the hearts of people, the windows of the chocolate shops, and the card aisles at CVS. We’ll be performing again at The Port Tavern in Newburyport with Sligo Road, so in preparation, I’ve been going through the ol’ songbook to make sure we have a few choice love songs to play.

Not that Irish love songs end particularly well, mind you. Seamus Eagan from Solas once opined that the relationships in Irish love songs “either never get off the ground, or they end particularly badly.”

Anyway, we recently had a few requests for a particular love song that I hadn’t heard in years, called “Grace”…so I went ahead and learned it. Now that I’ve done a bit of research about the song, I thought I’d share the history of this lovely classic.

This isn’t some kind of sentimental saccharine of this Hallmark holiday…this song made famous by Jim McCann tells a true story of love that is directly tied to the fight for Ireland’s independence.

Grace Gifford

At the turn of the last century, there was a young Irish woman named Grace Gifford. A cartoonist by trade, she was engaged to a poet and journalist by the name of Joseph Plunkett. They were supposed to be married on Easter Sunday in 1916 in University Chapel on St Stephen’s Green in Dublin.

Now those who know about the Easter Rising in 1916 will recognize Plunkett’s name. He was one of the leaders of the rebellion and, at age 28, was the youngest to sign the Proclamation of the Republic that Patrick Pearse read at the General Post Office in Dublin.

In planning the revolt, the secrecy required meant that Joseph couldn’t tell Grace that their wedding plans would be replaced by the Easter Rising.

Joseph Plunkett

Following the failed revolt, Plunkett and the other leaders were sentenced to death by firing squad at Kilmainham Jail. When Grace learned that her darling Joseph was to be killed the next day, she bought a ring and rushed to the jail at night. She and Joseph were married in the chapel in the early morning of May 4 under guard from 20 soldiers and, as soon as the ceremony ended, Plunkett was taken back to his cell. Later that morning, he was marched to the courtyard and shot.

I can’t imagine what it would have been like for Grace to look into his eyes and pledge her undying love, knowing that he’d be taken from her in just a few hours. As the last line of the song’s chorus says: “There won’t be time to share our love, for we must say goodbye.”

Some people may point to Romeo and Juliet as a great love story, but that was fiction. The true story of Grace and Joseph takes my breath away. I don’t view the song a republican anthem, it’s a terrific reminder that we should always let those we love know how we feel every chance we get.

Just a quick note to let y’all know that we’ll be performing with Terry Weir this Sunday (1/24) as Sligo Road at The Port Tavern in Newburyport. We always have a great time, the people are great, and the food and drink are excellent.

However, if you were planning to stop by RiRa’s on Monday night (1/25) to see us, you’ll be out of luck. They’ll be closed for a private function, so we get the night off. We’ll be back the following Monday, of course.

Such is the life of musicians…which reminds me of a joke, which should tide you over until we see you in-person again:

We're not getting in, no how...

A road in Sligo...Terry's family owns the land on the right hand side of the road. Is that authentic Irish or what?

The dust has officially settled regarding McMenemy’s and I’m realizing that, in all the excitement, we only briefly mentioned that we’re going to be back at The Port Tavern with Terry Weir this Sunday (11/8).

We’ll again be performing under the name Sligo Road, but don’t worry…we’ll still have all that tasty òran mór goodness. 

We start at 5:30, so we’d love to see you if can make it!

And if you want to show-up a little early, you can help me cheer for a Pats win over the Miami Dolphins.

<<sigh>>

I was all excited to write a completely positive post today. I was going to start by thanking everyone who came to our show on this past Sunday at The Port Tavern in Newburyport. The support was great and, as a result, it looks like we’ll be part of the regular Sunday rotation there. We’ll be performing again as Sligo Road with our friend Terry Weir on Nov. 8, Nov. 29, Dec. 6 and Dec. 20.  We’re psyched because the crowds and the staff are great, and they really seem to dig the music we’re doing. Your support helped make it possible…thanks.

That’s the good news. Unfortunately, there’s also some bad news in the world of òran mór.

We just learned that our regular pub, McMenemy’s in Portsmouth, NH, has closed. Kind of out of the blue. Kind of on the one year anniversary of the new ownership. And, considering the place is haunted, it’s kind of spooky that it’s happening two days before Halloween.

We want to thank Bob and Traci Shaake, the owners of McMenemy’s, for being such gracious hosts during the past year. Every Thursday and Saturday, they’d open their doors and give us a table in the corner where we could play music, sing songs, and have a laugh with the customers.

It was nice. I’d have a lovely meal after work (usually the rueben, chicken ceasar, or their amazing meatloaf and mash). Our local friends would stop in and join us. Occassionally, we’d have musicians visiting from Montreal, Tucson, Wexford, or some other far-flung place sit-in because they had heard about our session.

More importantly, we became friends with Bob, Traci, and their amazing staff. It’ll be odd to not see them on a regular basis…I’m hoping they’ve at least bookmarked this site or ‘friended’ us on Facebook so they can stay in touch.

I’m sure we’ll find another home for the session — maybe even a place that can accommodate more than five players. In the meantime we’ve got plenty of gigs lined up, so if you need an òran mór fix, don’t worry.

I just worried about where I’m going to get a good meatloaf dinner…Traci’s kicked butt.