I began commuting to Ireland three years ago, living a month or so here and a month or so there. My work, like so many other Eastern Europeans living in Dublin, brought me to the land of the Celtic Tiger. I’m just an honest, humble, hard-working immigrant laboring daily to fuel the Irish economy, living on pennies, and sending the rest home, enjoying a pint of Guinness now and again, and (fair play to me) trying to be a mensch.
Now, I’ve packed my big Samsonites full of all the essentials from Costco and have landed sans Samsonites in cold, gray Hibernia where I will toil for the next year like St. Patrick enslaved by the Pagans.
My preparation for a year’s stay in Ireland (besides the trip to Costco) included a road trip around my beloved California. I was like a dog marking my territory in all the food and bathing shrines up and down the state.
Ate 6 times a week at Stephanie’s Water Street Bistro, up from my average 2 times a week. I figure this will hold me for a month or so until I start to desperately miss her incredible cooking and great conversation with my brunch buddies.
Ate a couple of times at Tony’s Central Market. Soup noodles at Mifune in Japantown. Had a bowl of artichoke soup at Duartes in Pescadero. Korean BBQ in LA, and pea soup at Andersen’s in Buellton. Back to Petaluma for tacos from the truck, and of course, I cooked like a fiend for family and friends.
Did some great eavesdropping while bathing at Esalen and while drinking at a fancy beach-side bar and grill in Venice Beach. It gives me a warm centered feeling to know that everyone at Esalen is still in “transition” and everyone in Venice Beach is still planning to “do lunch”, while 80% of the world’s almonds grow, and the Hollywood fantasy factory churns out 80% of the worlds images, and the 6th largest economy in the world burgeons on.
Ah, yes, all is well and right in California!
But now here I sit in Clontarf Dublin 3 on the Howth Road right the way down from Harry Byrnes Pub, and the Samsonites have arrived.
OOJ Goes To the Mattresses……………
In Ireland, most apartments rent furnished. It’s very uncommon to find an unfurnished apartment. This means that landlords really cheap out on the furnishings. I don’t mind the spartan living room, or the 9 inch TV, but oy vey the bed! My back, my hips, I can’ get a good night’s sleep in the cheap-ass bed in my apartment.
I figure if I’m gonna be here for a year, better invest in a good bed. The plan is to buy a mattress to fit the frame in my room and to have an extra mattress on the bed in the spare room to accommodate my daughters (a.k.a Val’s Daughters) and all my friends from Petaluma when they visit.
Off to Clery’s on O’Connell Street in the heart of Dublin. Clery’s Department Store is the landmark Irish Department store. It was built in 1853, and had I bought my bed at the grand opening sale, I would be sleeping on it as of this writing, but since I bought it last Saturday, it will take 3 to 6 weeks until I sleep the sleep of the just.
As I headed back to catch my bus, next to the James Joyce statue on O’Connell Street was a mime, doing the James Joyce statue. Very clever indeed. He was dressed in clothing and had matching makeup to give the impression that he was made of bronze.
I put a couple of Euro in his tip box and told him he was a clever lad. At that he came to life, pulled a cigar box from under his arm, opened it, fished through and handed me a snippet of paper from what must have been thousands of excerpts from Ulysees. The one he gave me was Episode 18. Penelope (The Bed).
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The Only Other Jew In Dublin 