In Praise of Pubs

Only in Belfast can you walk on the sidewalk and still nearly be run down by a cabby gunning it down the square.

Unlike The States, it is not the burden of drivers to steer clear of pedestrians. Rather, it is up to us to avoid being hit.

On this particular instance, Adam and I were walking (and at one point being attacked by a water-spewing wall) to the Cathedral District to join in a music session where, by the way, we discovered all the cool kids hang out (in the Cathedral District, not the music sesh).

The pub area up in there is a hustlin' and bustlin' sprawl of cobblestoned alleys with strung lights and hanging plants and neon signs and bouncers. Very exciting indeed.

Our goal destination was The Dirty Onion which, despite its nasty name, is actually a pretty cool place.

It's formatted similarly to The Tabernacle (in a non-blasphemous way), with an outer court, inner sanctum, and Holy of Holies.

In the outer rim, there were benches, an outside bar, inverted arches of hanging bulbs, and conicle fires to warm the wee drunk peasantry.

Inside was absurdly packed. People everywhere, standing, sitting. I've no idea how the bartender could hear an order. However, if you're looking for a place to hang with an obnoxiously voiced friend, that's the place to head.

A and I pressed on to the very back corner. A fireplace to the left--open, with hot red coals sparking--Gaelic printing above it.

Splattery painted artwork behind thin plexiglass took up the center of the wall.

To the right was our nook of musicians. 5 + Adam.

Beside me and moving clockwise:
-Clean cut flutist (Fluter? Floutist? It wasn't a flute. It just looked like a flute) who could play anything handed to him with finesse but preferred his flute-ish.
-Acoustic guitarist
-What I'd imagine an Irish Texan looking like: Big, mustached, long grey ponytailed. Played the Irish equivalent of a clarinet.
-On the bench were Master and Prodigy, both Kitchen Pipe players (travel-sized bag pipes). Master had Jesus hair, a Celtic cross shirt, and an elbow band protecting against the constant rub of the pipebag, quiet and watchful. Prodigy was my age-ish and had the look and abilities of a guy who was born with bagpipes already in his hands and heart. His eyes closed all the while he played, which made his so-fast-they-blurred fingers all the more impressive.

If anyone has ever doubted the pleasantness of the pipes, the logic follows that they have never experienced an artist such as him.

Finally, Adam, with his baby Taylor. For the first time since I've known him (summer 2009), Adam was playless, out-musician-ed and totally in awe, or so seemed to be.

And as we sat there, with candles and coal glowing up amber ale and empty glasses with their rings of froth, the air full with the muchness of drink and laughter and music and warmth, I sensed something deeply spiritual about it all.

Maybe it was the way these men would periodically roll their own cigarettes (real Irish roll their own ciggies)--tobacco in paper sheathes, massage back and forth, lick edge, and smooth--and head out for a big, leaving their instruments safely behind or the way they would listen to one another's new melodies of old songs and join in with their own additions, calling the key to the quiet or confused players or how they seemed genuinely impressed by the beauty of each other's abilities, passing along their instruments to one another to check out.

The very unassuming, unaudacious, unconscious nature of it all that was most beautiful to me.

Is that not how we should be or, rather, are when we are wholly pursuing or participating in something we're passionate about? Waiting for someone to pick up the fife on the table and join in, happy to have another tune and not jealous of the extra/different melody or better skills.

Should we not worship in that simultaneously casual and reverent manner? Should we not be ready and willing to just stop and listen, enjoy, full of awe?

Those guys are probably not Christian and they may not even be happy, but they've got a handle on something that could revolutionize our souls.