In my devotional reading this morning I came across
this cool story from 2 Chronicles 20:1-30. Read the whole thing if you
get the chance, but here's the jist. Jehoshaphat, King of Judah is very
afraid because he's getting triple-teamed by three kingdoms from the
east (Moabites, Ammonites, and some Meunites). So he assembles people
from his whole kingdom to gather before the Lord and seek his help.
He begins his prayer by reminding God who God is. He's the
God of heaven - the God of all kingdoms and nations. In other words,
this little problem of having three kingdoms and nations planning an
invasion of Judah isn't a problem for God, because God's the God of all
kingdoms and nations. He also reminds God of the promises that he made
to Abraham and how he had allowed Israel to take possession of the
land. Was God going to renege on his promises? He reminds God that God
has promised to save them when they seek him. Will God honor this
promise?
Here's Jehoshaphat's final plea, "O our God, will you not
execute judgment upon them? For we are powerless against this great
multitude that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our
eyes are on you." Don't you just love that last line!?! We don't know
what to do, but our eyes are on you. Remind you of Hebrews? Remind you of your own life a little bit?
It does me. I think a lot of us right now are in this very position.
We have armies waging war against us - ready to attack us - we're a
little scared - we don't know what to do. That's okay, but where are
our eyes fixed? Are they on the Lord? I want my eyes to be on him.
Well, what happens? Does God answer them? You betcha (to
quote Sarah Palin)! A guy called Jahaziel receives a message from the
Spirit saying, "Listen, all Judah...Thus says the Lord to you: 'Do not
fear or be dismayed at this great multitude; for the battle is not yours
but God's...This battle is not for you to fight; take your position,
stand still, and see the victory of the Lord on your behalf...Do not
fear or be dismayed; tomorrow go out against them, and the Lord will be
with you."
It's great to hear an encouraging word, but is there any action on God's part to back it up? Again, you betcha!
I
won't spoil the story for you completely. You can go back and read it
for yourself, but essentially after the people take their position, they
begin to sing and pray and worship saying, "Give thanks to the Lord,
for his steadfast love endures forever." It is while they are busy
worshiping and praising God that God is fighting on their behalf. After
witnessing God's deliverance, the people take the spoils of war and
return to Jerusalem and continue to worship God.
I hope this story encourages you as much as it is encouraging me
(and I pray, will continue to encourage me throughout this day and in
the days and weeks to come).
So let's go out, take our
positions (whatever that is for each of us), worship our Lord and Savior
Jesus Christ and I believe we will witness his victory. That's my prayer for today. - Shay
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Across Time and Space
Ashlyn and I woke up at 6 am and gave Roger and Mary Beth McCown a lift to the airport. They arrived to Dublin on Saturday, but had been in other parts of Ireland traveling around since October 2. Although their time with us flew, it was good to have them here for a few days. Last Friday, the day before the McCowns arrived, Ashlyn and I gave my cousin Brent a lift back to the airport. He had flown into Ireland four days prior to that. It was a short trip, but it was good to see him. A couple of days before Brent landed in Dublin, Ashlyn and I were at the airport (with Juli), but this time it was the Smith family who were being picked up. We were arriving back from Italy from a one week holiday. Thank God for airports and airplanes - they dramatically shorten time and space and make it possible to fellowship with people we would otherwise be absent from.
But even before the advent of air travel, Christians have had the ability to transcend space and time with each other through communion. When we partake of the bread and the cup, it's not only Jesus who is present with us, but our brothers and sisters from around the world join us too. And it's not only those who are presently alive who share this symbolic meal with us. We are united with the faithful of all times and places - past, present, and future. The coolest thing that our family experienced in Rome were the catacombs. It was amazing to walk around the final resting place of our brothers and sisters in Christ from 2,000 years ago. So when Roger prayed for Christian unity on Sunday evening as our North Dublin Christian Community shared in Christ's meal, I was reminded that not only was I communing with fellow believers back in Austin, I was fellowshiping with all the believers who have come before, including some of those whose bodies are awaiting the resurrection under the city of Rome. It also helped me to anticipate that banquet in the age to come which will replace the symbolic presence of our distant relatives with their actual presence. And not only will we be present with the saints of all ages, we will eat and drink in the glorious presence of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! That's a meal worth living for. - Shay
But even before the advent of air travel, Christians have had the ability to transcend space and time with each other through communion. When we partake of the bread and the cup, it's not only Jesus who is present with us, but our brothers and sisters from around the world join us too. And it's not only those who are presently alive who share this symbolic meal with us. We are united with the faithful of all times and places - past, present, and future. The coolest thing that our family experienced in Rome were the catacombs. It was amazing to walk around the final resting place of our brothers and sisters in Christ from 2,000 years ago. So when Roger prayed for Christian unity on Sunday evening as our North Dublin Christian Community shared in Christ's meal, I was reminded that not only was I communing with fellow believers back in Austin, I was fellowshiping with all the believers who have come before, including some of those whose bodies are awaiting the resurrection under the city of Rome. It also helped me to anticipate that banquet in the age to come which will replace the symbolic presence of our distant relatives with their actual presence. And not only will we be present with the saints of all ages, we will eat and drink in the glorious presence of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! That's a meal worth living for. - Shay
Sunday, September 1, 2013
On the Wrong Side of a Revolution
A few months ago Juli and I watched the film Argo. I was interested in the story because over the last few years I've become friends with several Iranians - some in Austin and some in Ireland. As I watched the film, a line kept coming into my head - "waking up on the wrong side of a revolution". Hmm, I thought, that would be a great line in a poem. A few days later I mentioned this to a friend of mine, Craig, and he mentioned that he had written a song called "Thirty Pieces of Silver". He thought the line seemed to suit not only the current events of the Near East, but also the relationship of Judas and Jesus. I agreed that it might be interesting to tell the story of one of my Iranian friend's journey to Ireland through the lens of the hostage crisis and the story of Judas before that. So, after a few months I've penned this poem. It's not meant to be a political commentary, but really more of a reflection on life. For what its worth...
On the Wrong Side of a Revolution
In all of Judea and in all of Galilee.
One of just twelve chosen, a task cloaked in mystery.
They were gonna bring the Kingdom, yeah the Kingdom was gonna come.
Out with Herod! And the priests! And the Roman legion scum!
The rabbi just needed a little push, a little prod.
Let's get this party started, let's force the hand of God.
He might be a pretender, or he could be the chosen one.
For cash he'd sell a brother, but not God's one and only Son.
He thought he found the answer, he discovered the solution.
But instead he woke up dead, on the wrong side of a revolution.
A phony Shaw, a phony kingdom, a creation of the West.
Exploitation, humiliation, a rape of culture, and then unrest.
The time had come to make a change, for the better or for the worse.
But that's the problem with regimes, you trade one for another curse.
And caught up in the conflict, in the cross-hairs of the fight
Were the agents of the Satan who had authored Persia's plight.
Guilty or innocent, that was neither the answer, nor the question.
As the chaos came alive, there wasn't time for reflection.
Though to Western eyes it may have seemed like a case of retribution.
That's the price you pay when you wake up on the wrong side of a revolution.
You risk it all when you're all in - all your cards are on the table.
You might risk your shirt, but your life - would you be able?
Did he know what he was doing when he joined the demonstration?
How could he comprehend how this would change his situation?
Asleep when they barged in - took him from his family, from his home.
Beaten, tortured, pissed on - his only option was to roam
Through countries far and wide, he searched 'till he had found
A place he could begin to take a step on solid ground.
And as he makes his first moves towards a life of contribution,
He'll never forget how he woke up on the wrong side of a revolution.
And we're all in their same shoes, though it seems that can't be true.
But most of them were thrown in without directions for what to do.
We're traveling down our paths, without thought or consideration -
Taking our lives for granted in our wealthy Western nations.
Sometimes we get it right, but sometimes we get it wrong.
The weak are sometimes right, and the wrong are sometimes strong.
Life is never simple, though the stories we tell may be.
But dig a little deeper, you won't like what you see.
Be careful when you discover, the answer, the solution.
You just might find you woke up on the wrong side of a revolution. - Shay
On the Wrong Side of a Revolution
In all of Judea and in all of Galilee.
One of just twelve chosen, a task cloaked in mystery.
They were gonna bring the Kingdom, yeah the Kingdom was gonna come.
Out with Herod! And the priests! And the Roman legion scum!
The rabbi just needed a little push, a little prod.
Let's get this party started, let's force the hand of God.
He might be a pretender, or he could be the chosen one.
For cash he'd sell a brother, but not God's one and only Son.
He thought he found the answer, he discovered the solution.
But instead he woke up dead, on the wrong side of a revolution.
A phony Shaw, a phony kingdom, a creation of the West.
Exploitation, humiliation, a rape of culture, and then unrest.
The time had come to make a change, for the better or for the worse.
But that's the problem with regimes, you trade one for another curse.
And caught up in the conflict, in the cross-hairs of the fight
Were the agents of the Satan who had authored Persia's plight.
Guilty or innocent, that was neither the answer, nor the question.
As the chaos came alive, there wasn't time for reflection.
Though to Western eyes it may have seemed like a case of retribution.
That's the price you pay when you wake up on the wrong side of a revolution.
You risk it all when you're all in - all your cards are on the table.
You might risk your shirt, but your life - would you be able?
Did he know what he was doing when he joined the demonstration?
How could he comprehend how this would change his situation?
Asleep when they barged in - took him from his family, from his home.
Beaten, tortured, pissed on - his only option was to roam
Through countries far and wide, he searched 'till he had found
A place he could begin to take a step on solid ground.
And as he makes his first moves towards a life of contribution,
He'll never forget how he woke up on the wrong side of a revolution.
And we're all in their same shoes, though it seems that can't be true.
But most of them were thrown in without directions for what to do.
We're traveling down our paths, without thought or consideration -
Taking our lives for granted in our wealthy Western nations.
Sometimes we get it right, but sometimes we get it wrong.
The weak are sometimes right, and the wrong are sometimes strong.
Life is never simple, though the stories we tell may be.
But dig a little deeper, you won't like what you see.
Be careful when you discover, the answer, the solution.
You just might find you woke up on the wrong side of a revolution. - Shay
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Scottish Trip Day Three...The Journey Home
After 6 and 1/2 - 7 hours of sleep, I woke up, had a bath (no shower in my room) and took a seat in the B&B dining room. Half way through my Scottish fry up, a Dutch couple joined me and we struck up a conversation. They had traveled to Iona to explore the monastery and to find out more information about the modern Iona Community (an ecumenical/transnational affiliation of Christians who are interested in spiritual transformation as well as social justice and other global causes - although the group is formally based out of Iona, most of the members are spread across the UK and a few other countries). This Dutch couple are a part of an independent (free church - autonomous congregations) Dutch reformed church. I would have enjoyed chatting with them longer, but alas, my ferry was about to leave and it was imperative that I make all of my connections.
After the short ten minute crossing back to Mull, most of us on the ferry then climbed on the coach to take us back to Craignure. As I waited in line to board the bus, Gavin Fox, the bass player tapped me on the shoulder. He and Seonaid (the fiddle and keyboard player, not to be confused with Hanna) were also heading to Craignure and then onto the ferry back to Oban on the mainland. As we talked, we discovered that we were both on the same flight from Edinburgh back to Dublin and so we arranged to meetup in the airport later that evening.
Although the weather was mostly good the first two days of the trip, on this day it was a typically Scottish wet, windy, misty, and dare I say, mystical if not a little mythical kind of day. It was amazing to see how large the mountains on Mull were. Each one seemed to have a beautiful waterfall cascading down its slopes. If this area hasn't already been used as a film location, it needs to be!
The ferry crossing to Oban was uneventful (probably a good thing), and after we docked I had a little time to kill before my train took off, so I wandered the little streets and found a coffee shop on the corner, called The Coffee Corner, fittingly enough. I read some scripture, spent some time in prayer and then found a newsagent and bought a couple of newspapers for the journey south. I had spent most of the trip to Oban listening to music and admiring the scenery, so on the way back down I mostly read the newspapers.
Once I arrived in Edinburgh, I decided to take a stroll through the Scottish National Art Gallery. It's free and open late on Thursdays. I appreciate that there are a lot of talented painters, sculptors, and other kinds of visual artists out there, but my general take on these works is something like, "That's good, nice, huh?, interesting, that's weird, cool, different...". But, every now and again I need to do a culture top up and after my walk through the gallery, I think I'm good for several months.
The weather, by the way turned really nice by the time I arrived back in the capital. So when I left the gallery, I walked through the park before jumping on the bus to the airport. I had a simple time navigating security and the usual duty free shops on my way to my gate. When I got to the gate, the line for boarding was already a half mile long. Thankfully, Gavin was doing the sensible thing and letting everyone else stand, while he sat and waited. I joined him and we talked about our trips down to Edinburgh, music, life, Dublin, faith, the past, and the future. Our conversation extended onto the plane and through the flight back to Ireland. Once we had safely landed and made our way through immigration, we exchanged e-mail addresses so that he could inform me of any future gigs that his present band, Little Matador (this band includes the guitarist from Snow Patrol) might be playing. I received an email from him only this morning letting me know that they would be playing a gig soon at Whelans, here in Dublin. Hopefully I'll be able to make the show.
Overall, my trip to Scotland was a far better experience than I could have imagined it to be. The sights, sounds, and especially the people were amazing. I look forward to many more musical journeys in the months and years to come. - Shay
After the short ten minute crossing back to Mull, most of us on the ferry then climbed on the coach to take us back to Craignure. As I waited in line to board the bus, Gavin Fox, the bass player tapped me on the shoulder. He and Seonaid (the fiddle and keyboard player, not to be confused with Hanna) were also heading to Craignure and then onto the ferry back to Oban on the mainland. As we talked, we discovered that we were both on the same flight from Edinburgh back to Dublin and so we arranged to meetup in the airport later that evening.
Although the weather was mostly good the first two days of the trip, on this day it was a typically Scottish wet, windy, misty, and dare I say, mystical if not a little mythical kind of day. It was amazing to see how large the mountains on Mull were. Each one seemed to have a beautiful waterfall cascading down its slopes. If this area hasn't already been used as a film location, it needs to be!
The ferry crossing to Oban was uneventful (probably a good thing), and after we docked I had a little time to kill before my train took off, so I wandered the little streets and found a coffee shop on the corner, called The Coffee Corner, fittingly enough. I read some scripture, spent some time in prayer and then found a newsagent and bought a couple of newspapers for the journey south. I had spent most of the trip to Oban listening to music and admiring the scenery, so on the way back down I mostly read the newspapers.
Once I arrived in Edinburgh, I decided to take a stroll through the Scottish National Art Gallery. It's free and open late on Thursdays. I appreciate that there are a lot of talented painters, sculptors, and other kinds of visual artists out there, but my general take on these works is something like, "That's good, nice, huh?, interesting, that's weird, cool, different...". But, every now and again I need to do a culture top up and after my walk through the gallery, I think I'm good for several months.
The weather, by the way turned really nice by the time I arrived back in the capital. So when I left the gallery, I walked through the park before jumping on the bus to the airport. I had a simple time navigating security and the usual duty free shops on my way to my gate. When I got to the gate, the line for boarding was already a half mile long. Thankfully, Gavin was doing the sensible thing and letting everyone else stand, while he sat and waited. I joined him and we talked about our trips down to Edinburgh, music, life, Dublin, faith, the past, and the future. Our conversation extended onto the plane and through the flight back to Ireland. Once we had safely landed and made our way through immigration, we exchanged e-mail addresses so that he could inform me of any future gigs that his present band, Little Matador (this band includes the guitarist from Snow Patrol) might be playing. I received an email from him only this morning letting me know that they would be playing a gig soon at Whelans, here in Dublin. Hopefully I'll be able to make the show.
Overall, my trip to Scotland was a far better experience than I could have imagined it to be. The sights, sounds, and especially the people were amazing. I look forward to many more musical journeys in the months and years to come. - Shay
Friday, August 9, 2013
The Isle of Iona...Scotland Trip Day Two
I don't sleep well in hostels, I was reminded as I woke up at 6 am. Rather than trying to continue to sleep, I crawled out of my bunk, went downstairs to the men's showers and got myself sorted for the day. After turning in my bunk bedding and room key, I had another stroll around the village to see what might be open at 7 am. Mercifully, by 8 a cafe opened and I sat down at a table and promptly ordered a full breakfast - eggs, toast, beans, tomatoes, potato scone, bacon rasher, and white pudding. After a cup of tea and then a cup of coffee I went back out to explore more of Tobermory. Around 10 am, I climbed back up the hill and popped into the AnTobar arts and music centre. During the day the place doubles as a coffee house/hangout. So I had a coffee, did some reading, and hung out a bit before heading back down to the harbor to catch the bus back to Craignure and then onto Iona.
A mix up with the local bus company meant that the only bus available to take us to Craignure was actually a bright red open top bus. So I spent the 45 minute trip up top filming the scenery and letting the cold wind blow through my hair. After another hour bus trip, this time on a coach, I was at the end of the Ross of Mull where I boarded a ferry over to the isle of Iona. It was only a 10 minute ferry crossing and before I knew it I was getting settled into my bed and breakfast on the little island.
Iona was originally settled by an Irish monk/missionary named Columcille (Columba in Latin). Legend has it that due to the deaths of several men who had engaged in a couple of conflicts in which he was embroiled, Columcille was "exiled" to Scotland. At any rate, he and 12 followers did set up a monastery on the island around 560 and eventually an Abbey was built on the site. His work was certainly crucial in the evangelizing of Scotland and he remains an important figure in Church history.
My bed and breakfast wasn't far from the Abbey, so I had a look around the place before I hiked up the highest hill on the island. The views were magnificent, not so much on the island, but what you could see looking back towards Mull, the mainland of Scotland, and out west over the Atlantic. I then wandered back into the main part of the village and scarfed down some dinner while reading a newspaper. Then it was back to the B&B and then over to the village hall.
Although I had paid my dues the night before, my name wasn't on the list, but the fellow at the door didn't seem to mind - very trusting, thankfully. I had a chat with an English guy from Yorkshire named Luke and then I went and took a seat for a few minutes until I needed to heed nature's call and stroll back to the toilets. As I was washing up, Roddy stepped in and asked how I had enjoyed Iona. I shared a bit about my day and then went back into the hall for the start of the concert. This was the first of two encounters with Mr. Woomble in the toilets that night - both by accident and both friendly.
Roddy and the band sounded excellent again this night. The set list was mostly the same, but played in a different order. I happened to be sitting next to Soren's (the guitarist's) girlfriend, Hanna, and we had a nice chat before the first set and during the intermission. I discovered that Hanna will often play fiddle with Roddy when his other fiddle player is unavailable. She also fronts here own ceilidh band and they actually played during the ceilidh after Roddy's gig. A ceilidh is a traditional Scottish or Irish dance. Before Roddy's last song, he mentioned that though most of the people in attendance had come from just down the road, there was a guy from France and another guy from Dublin in attendance. Nice to get a little name recognition from the stage!
That wasn't the last I was referenced from the stage. A couple of songs into the ceilidh, Hanna announced that a guy from Austin, TX needed a partner, so I ended up learning to do traditional Scottish dancing, but very poorly, I might add. I participated in two dances and had some interesting chats with some other locals before I said my goodbyes to Roddy and Gavin and headed out into the darkness to find my B&B. I read a little from one of my new books before I hit the light and drifted into dreams. - Shay
A mix up with the local bus company meant that the only bus available to take us to Craignure was actually a bright red open top bus. So I spent the 45 minute trip up top filming the scenery and letting the cold wind blow through my hair. After another hour bus trip, this time on a coach, I was at the end of the Ross of Mull where I boarded a ferry over to the isle of Iona. It was only a 10 minute ferry crossing and before I knew it I was getting settled into my bed and breakfast on the little island.
Iona was originally settled by an Irish monk/missionary named Columcille (Columba in Latin). Legend has it that due to the deaths of several men who had engaged in a couple of conflicts in which he was embroiled, Columcille was "exiled" to Scotland. At any rate, he and 12 followers did set up a monastery on the island around 560 and eventually an Abbey was built on the site. His work was certainly crucial in the evangelizing of Scotland and he remains an important figure in Church history.
My bed and breakfast wasn't far from the Abbey, so I had a look around the place before I hiked up the highest hill on the island. The views were magnificent, not so much on the island, but what you could see looking back towards Mull, the mainland of Scotland, and out west over the Atlantic. I then wandered back into the main part of the village and scarfed down some dinner while reading a newspaper. Then it was back to the B&B and then over to the village hall.
Although I had paid my dues the night before, my name wasn't on the list, but the fellow at the door didn't seem to mind - very trusting, thankfully. I had a chat with an English guy from Yorkshire named Luke and then I went and took a seat for a few minutes until I needed to heed nature's call and stroll back to the toilets. As I was washing up, Roddy stepped in and asked how I had enjoyed Iona. I shared a bit about my day and then went back into the hall for the start of the concert. This was the first of two encounters with Mr. Woomble in the toilets that night - both by accident and both friendly.
Roddy and the band sounded excellent again this night. The set list was mostly the same, but played in a different order. I happened to be sitting next to Soren's (the guitarist's) girlfriend, Hanna, and we had a nice chat before the first set and during the intermission. I discovered that Hanna will often play fiddle with Roddy when his other fiddle player is unavailable. She also fronts here own ceilidh band and they actually played during the ceilidh after Roddy's gig. A ceilidh is a traditional Scottish or Irish dance. Before Roddy's last song, he mentioned that though most of the people in attendance had come from just down the road, there was a guy from France and another guy from Dublin in attendance. Nice to get a little name recognition from the stage!
That wasn't the last I was referenced from the stage. A couple of songs into the ceilidh, Hanna announced that a guy from Austin, TX needed a partner, so I ended up learning to do traditional Scottish dancing, but very poorly, I might add. I participated in two dances and had some interesting chats with some other locals before I said my goodbyes to Roddy and Gavin and headed out into the darkness to find my B&B. I read a little from one of my new books before I hit the light and drifted into dreams. - Shay
Monday, August 5, 2013
Planes, Trains, Buses and Ferries...Scotland Trip Day One
After four hours of sleep my alarm woke me up at 4:15 AM on Tuesday, 30 of July, 2013. Juli and Ashlyn graciously took me to the airport and after a quick kiss, hug, and goodbye to both of them I was queuing in the security line and then sipping my first cup of coffee as I waited for the call to board the plane to Edinburgh. The Edinburgh airport is a few miles outside the city centre, so about an hour after landing, I was wandering the streets of this historic burgh. I've been to the Scottish capital on a couple of other occasions, so I found a cool coffee shop and sipped another caffeine infused beverage while reading the latest soccer transfer news from the local papers. I then took a stroll up the Royal Mile before descending into the shopping district of Princess Street. I bought a couple of discount books and then made my way to Waverly Station to catch my train to the Highlands.
After a quick change of trains at Glasgow Queen Street and another 3 hour journey through mountains, hills, rivers, and lochs, I arrived in Oban with only 30 minutes to kill before my ferry journey. I quickly booked my ticket and then boarded the ferry for the 45 minute crossing. I was able to get some great video of the sea, mountains, inlets, castles, light houses, and the like as we made our way to Craignure on the Isle of Mull. Once there I hustled over to the bus to Tobermory and bought a return ticket. The bus quickly departed and 45 minutes later we were on the north side of the island in the picturesque village. After waking up at 4:15, 13 hours later and I was at my destination. The village of Tobermory was the film location in a BBC children's program called "Balamory". Ashlyn has watched this show on occasion, so I made sure to get lots of video of the village to share with her. I made my way to the hostel (I later learned that I could have stayed in a B&B for the same price - I am officially done with youth hostels!), dropped my backpack on my bunk, and then set out to explore the area and get myself some dinner.
On the north end of the village I located a fish restaurant that seemed to have been written up positively in quite a few travel and food magazines and since the prices listed seemed reasonable, I popped in to eat some fresh, locally sourced catch. However, I was told that the place was all booked up for the evening, so I disappointingly made my way back to a fish & chips van that was parked by the pier. The line was long but the wait was worth it as I enjoyed the best fish & chips I've had in years. The British do fish & chips better than anywhere else in the world!
By 8:00 pm I was making my way up the steep hill to the AnTobar arts and community hall for the gig. As I arrived inside the venue I noticed the dreaded sign saying "sold out". I hadn't actually booked my tickets yet because there was no online link to do it. You were to simply call the centre and reserve a place over the phone. I had assumed there would be plenty of tickets available when I arrived. I sheepishly walked up to the desk and the friendly lady behind the counter inquired if I had a reservation. "No, I'm afraid I don't", I responded pathetically. "How many are there of you?", she asked. "Just one.", I said, hopefully. "Well, we had one cancellation, so if you'd like to take that, it's yours." I of course jumped on the offer and I went ahead and reserved my place for the following evening on Iona. That was a good move, because I found out the next day that the Iona gig also sold out. Before heading into the room for the music, an English lady named Christy who had witnessed my denial at the restaurant earlier asked me if I was able to find a place to eat. I confirmed that I had enjoyed some fish & chips and we had a wee chat for a few minutes. I discovered that she was from Bury St. Edmunds, the town where my grandfather had been stationed during World War Two. She was in town for a whale/dolphin watching expedition and had decided to check out the concert, though she had never previously heard of Roddy Woomble.
We were soon ushered into a small little room and the hundred or so of us in attendance were gifted a wonderful set of contemporary folk music by the four musicians and Roddy's lead vocals. The band took a half hour break and we were all able to stretch our legs enjoy some refreshments. I walked outside and witnessed an amazing sunset over the harbor with the sky colored pink, blue, and purple, highlighted with a few stray clouds. As I enjoyed the view, Roddy popped out to near where I was standing and had a seat at a picnic table. I extended a handshake and had a seat across from him and we chatted for 15 or 20 minutes about music and life and a little bit about ourselves. He was impressed that I had traveled all the way up from Dublin for the gigs and he introduced me to the bass player, Gavin Fox, who had previously played with him in Idlewild and is a native Dubliner. Gavin and I chatted about Dublin and discovered that we only live a couple of miles a part and frequent many of the same city haunts. Before long it was time to head back in for the 2nd set. It was equally as good and after saying goodbye to Christy and a couple of the other nice people I had met, I wandered outside and found a nice quiet place to phone Juli and tell her about my day. I eventually went back to the hostel and did my best to sleep in a room with 5 other strangers who I had never met and never would meet. But for 6 hours one Tuesday, we all slept just a few feet from each other. I hope that was my last night in a hostel, if not forever, at least for many, many years. - Shay
After a quick change of trains at Glasgow Queen Street and another 3 hour journey through mountains, hills, rivers, and lochs, I arrived in Oban with only 30 minutes to kill before my ferry journey. I quickly booked my ticket and then boarded the ferry for the 45 minute crossing. I was able to get some great video of the sea, mountains, inlets, castles, light houses, and the like as we made our way to Craignure on the Isle of Mull. Once there I hustled over to the bus to Tobermory and bought a return ticket. The bus quickly departed and 45 minutes later we were on the north side of the island in the picturesque village. After waking up at 4:15, 13 hours later and I was at my destination. The village of Tobermory was the film location in a BBC children's program called "Balamory". Ashlyn has watched this show on occasion, so I made sure to get lots of video of the village to share with her. I made my way to the hostel (I later learned that I could have stayed in a B&B for the same price - I am officially done with youth hostels!), dropped my backpack on my bunk, and then set out to explore the area and get myself some dinner.
On the north end of the village I located a fish restaurant that seemed to have been written up positively in quite a few travel and food magazines and since the prices listed seemed reasonable, I popped in to eat some fresh, locally sourced catch. However, I was told that the place was all booked up for the evening, so I disappointingly made my way back to a fish & chips van that was parked by the pier. The line was long but the wait was worth it as I enjoyed the best fish & chips I've had in years. The British do fish & chips better than anywhere else in the world!
By 8:00 pm I was making my way up the steep hill to the AnTobar arts and community hall for the gig. As I arrived inside the venue I noticed the dreaded sign saying "sold out". I hadn't actually booked my tickets yet because there was no online link to do it. You were to simply call the centre and reserve a place over the phone. I had assumed there would be plenty of tickets available when I arrived. I sheepishly walked up to the desk and the friendly lady behind the counter inquired if I had a reservation. "No, I'm afraid I don't", I responded pathetically. "How many are there of you?", she asked. "Just one.", I said, hopefully. "Well, we had one cancellation, so if you'd like to take that, it's yours." I of course jumped on the offer and I went ahead and reserved my place for the following evening on Iona. That was a good move, because I found out the next day that the Iona gig also sold out. Before heading into the room for the music, an English lady named Christy who had witnessed my denial at the restaurant earlier asked me if I was able to find a place to eat. I confirmed that I had enjoyed some fish & chips and we had a wee chat for a few minutes. I discovered that she was from Bury St. Edmunds, the town where my grandfather had been stationed during World War Two. She was in town for a whale/dolphin watching expedition and had decided to check out the concert, though she had never previously heard of Roddy Woomble.
We were soon ushered into a small little room and the hundred or so of us in attendance were gifted a wonderful set of contemporary folk music by the four musicians and Roddy's lead vocals. The band took a half hour break and we were all able to stretch our legs enjoy some refreshments. I walked outside and witnessed an amazing sunset over the harbor with the sky colored pink, blue, and purple, highlighted with a few stray clouds. As I enjoyed the view, Roddy popped out to near where I was standing and had a seat at a picnic table. I extended a handshake and had a seat across from him and we chatted for 15 or 20 minutes about music and life and a little bit about ourselves. He was impressed that I had traveled all the way up from Dublin for the gigs and he introduced me to the bass player, Gavin Fox, who had previously played with him in Idlewild and is a native Dubliner. Gavin and I chatted about Dublin and discovered that we only live a couple of miles a part and frequent many of the same city haunts. Before long it was time to head back in for the 2nd set. It was equally as good and after saying goodbye to Christy and a couple of the other nice people I had met, I wandered outside and found a nice quiet place to phone Juli and tell her about my day. I eventually went back to the hostel and did my best to sleep in a room with 5 other strangers who I had never met and never would meet. But for 6 hours one Tuesday, we all slept just a few feet from each other. I hope that was my last night in a hostel, if not forever, at least for many, many years. - Shay
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Wandering the Woomble Way
Around the turn of the century I bought a record that has remained one of my favorites of the 2000s and led me to a new long-lasting love, musically speaking of course. The title of the album was "100 Broken Windows" by an indie rock outfit called Idlewild. I loved the sticker on the outside of the cd case. It said something like, "Introducing Scotland's indie shredders". After a few listens I was hooked. Since that time, I have bought all of their releases and have seen the band play live in Texas on 5 different occasions. In 2007, the band's lead singer, Roddy Woomble released his first solo album of contemporary folk music. He's since released 2 other solo albums and a collaborative record with Kris Drever and John McCusker. The band isn't making music together presently, but Roddy has found his niche as a folk singer, and though I doubt he's become filthy rich from his endeavors, he's able to make a living making music, which can't be all that bad.
A couple of years ago, Juli and I caught his Dublin gig at the Workman's club on the Liffey Quays. At that time I thought to myself that I would love to get over to Scotland sometime and see Roddy perform on his native soil. Since Juli's had the chance to take a short trip to Barcelona with some friends and a trip to Belgium with her sister, I played my hand and secured a birthday trip over to Scotland to wander the Woomble way. I'll be flying to Edinburgh this week, traveling by train to Oban in the Highlands, and then taking a ferry over to the Isles of Mull and Iona for a couple of Roddy's gigs. Since I've only previously been in the Lowlands and never to either the Highlands or the Islands, I'm looking forward to the experience. I'll be keeping a journal and I'll update the blog when I get back. Hopefully there will be some interesting stories to tell. In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote about Scotland the last time I visited in 2007 and a few youtube clips of Roddy and Idlewild.
Scotland
A land of mountains and moors, crashing waves against the craggy shores.
A place of mystery and mystique, even the mundane is unique.
The Highlands and the heather, tartan fleece, a kilt, a sporran, a feather.
City landscapes and city lights, a pint in a pub, mountain peak sights.
Dreams of nights and dreams of days, tribal traditions and Celtic ways.
Pipes serenade, folk music swirls, Welcome to Scotland, the best small country in the world!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaPNJnGN8Qs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyWrIYGKPI4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N5wLZNEl_Q
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jRMxYGACvA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--2PISNjP-I
Enjoy! - Shay
A couple of years ago, Juli and I caught his Dublin gig at the Workman's club on the Liffey Quays. At that time I thought to myself that I would love to get over to Scotland sometime and see Roddy perform on his native soil. Since Juli's had the chance to take a short trip to Barcelona with some friends and a trip to Belgium with her sister, I played my hand and secured a birthday trip over to Scotland to wander the Woomble way. I'll be flying to Edinburgh this week, traveling by train to Oban in the Highlands, and then taking a ferry over to the Isles of Mull and Iona for a couple of Roddy's gigs. Since I've only previously been in the Lowlands and never to either the Highlands or the Islands, I'm looking forward to the experience. I'll be keeping a journal and I'll update the blog when I get back. Hopefully there will be some interesting stories to tell. In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote about Scotland the last time I visited in 2007 and a few youtube clips of Roddy and Idlewild.
Scotland
A land of mountains and moors, crashing waves against the craggy shores.
A place of mystery and mystique, even the mundane is unique.
The Highlands and the heather, tartan fleece, a kilt, a sporran, a feather.
City landscapes and city lights, a pint in a pub, mountain peak sights.
Dreams of nights and dreams of days, tribal traditions and Celtic ways.
Pipes serenade, folk music swirls, Welcome to Scotland, the best small country in the world!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JaPNJnGN8Qs
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyWrIYGKPI4
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6N5wLZNEl_Q
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jRMxYGACvA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--2PISNjP-I
Enjoy! - Shay
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