Rambling heads and the Irish

I recently stumbled upon a blog of what appears to be an Irish senior citizen. I say appears to be, because of course I accept anything posted in the interweb at face value, and I'm ready to believe anything posted on any page. Or perhaps I just don't care if this is some little girl posting as a senior citizen just for the attention. Whatever may be the case, I found the stumbled article pretty nifty (it was about surviving the fine art of ordering a pint (a pint being synonym to a pint of Guiness) in an Irish pub, without being made as a tourist). Granted, I don't like Guiness much, but I sure was tempted to go to Ireland again, and give Guiness the benefit of doubt.

Anywho, I just now realized Google also has a decent RSS Aggregator, meaning I can load all the rss feeds into that, and it'll keep track of my feeds and allow me to access them from anywhere in the world. Rss feeds are what pages on the web use to send out information and/or headers when a new item is posted. I'm sure there's a more technical explanation, and I'm also sure somebody reading this could go "Omfg l0ser, that is what you newbs use rss aggregators for.. back in 1985 they were so much used for blah blah whatever". If you're a person thinking something along the lines of that, I'd urge you to eat hormone neutralizing pills, seing as no kid should grow up with you as a parent. ANYWAY.. I'm straying from the point here. So Google has this here rss reader, which is nifty, and I loaded in the rss feed for Head Rambles (the page), and happened to read a few articles I hadn't seen before.

This, in turn, made me think about some experiences I had with Ireland. It's not relevant to the prior article. But as always, when I say I'll do something later on tonight, it usually gets pushed off for various reasons. Point is, when I was in Ireland, I never really felt as if I was made out as a tourist. I'm sure I was, but I never quite felt like anybody noticed or cared. Of course, I refrained from wearing touristy things, like green tshirts or scarfs or anything else people from Japan might find inconspicuous. And no, I didn't just stay in Dublin, where most people appear to be from across some sort of body of water. I was out in the country side (so green it was), talking to the locals.. or at least observing them. This leads me to another event that took place right here in the home town of yours truly. I was wearing an Irish National Rugby shirt, I had bought while in Dublin (or my mum got it for me.. technicalities, but it's nice to have the facts straight, isn't it?) to a local subcultured club I went to with my brother. It's green and, I'll admit in all modesty, looks stunning on my large frame. So I'm standing in the lobby type thing, just getting away from the heat of the dancefloor and to clear my eyes from the flashing lights. In stumbles what appears to be an Irishman.

*Freeze frame*
<Dalif has a flashback>
Dalif: For as long as I can remember, I've always attracted the attention of randoms on the street and/or in shops. I can't count the number of times I've been asked where the milk is located or if we have any more of those cushions that were on sale last week, when going to supermarkets... and I'm always the one the drunk guy speaks to, when given the choice between 3-5 people on the street. I dunno what it is about me that just commends the need to speak out. I've often wondered... (dramatic pause).. or have I?
<Flashback comes to a premature end>
*Motion recommences*

He enters the door, and spots me straight away. Moves towards me, with that oh so special "Hey, don't move, I want to say something extremely witty and important to you" look upon his scarred and drunkard face. I briefly, as I always do, flash a number of possible ways out of the situation through my quick-thinking mind. I draw a blank, and stays motionless. What he actually ended up saying, I cannot remember clearly. But it was something to the effect of "So how about those Irish Rugby players"... and then something about it being to to see another irishman around here. I inform him of the fact that I'm not Irish, nor do I watch rugby. I merely happened to like the shirt. He looks befuddled, as if I had just told him his wife and kids died in a horrible boating accident. I shrug... I mean, I'm not really sorry. It's just the way life is. I pat him on the shoulder, and send him on his way.

Now this leads me to the final point of this entry, which, I'll admit, was written mostly because I like to see myself write stuff. The point is, that had I worn that shirt in Ireland, the bloke would've thought I was a filthy tourist being a nuisance and a general annoyance. But if I wear it in any other country in the world, bar Equatorial Guinea perhaps, I'll be marked as an Irishman straight off the bat, and honored for flying the green colors. I find that, if not hugely amusing, then at least a little nifty. You gotta give me a little credit for making that cool and interesting observation. Conclusively, I'd urge you to give Head Rambles a go. Grandad is a fairly amusing fella. And I'm sure he'd have a few fun stories to tell down the pub (if you could sneak past his foreigner-filters).