My Mother went to a poetry night with her friend. Her friend is one of the nicest genuinely positive uncritical people I know. She goes to all kinds of social events, engaging with so many people. She and her husband retired here and interact far more with the community than I do. She wanted to go to this as one of our local storytellers was making an appearance. She liked his piece in a local social night and thought this would be much the same. The first mishap was that the brochure said 7.30, Sue is prompt, so they were there at 7.15. The poster said 8 -it started at 8.15.
They were happy enough in the front bar, drinking coffee and people watching. It turned out the event was part of a nationwide action to do with mental health. The comedian Joe Rooney was in the lineup. He had had a panic attack before so was sharing his experience and doing some of his sketches. He said to my Mother 'You're not enjoying this'.She replied 'I've no sense of humour'.She doesn't find much of what the rest of my family finds hilarious funny. She laughs at things I think are slightly racists or memes saying things in pidgin Chinese. He quickly changed tack. She presumed it was because he thought she might have mental health issues. She didn't care.T he next bits he did still didn't entertain her, but they suited her better. She liked poems a lady with additional needs wrote about her cat and Brian Sheehan( a local Gaelic Football player). But that maybe someone else could have read them out as she was hoarse from getting over the flu.
Séan was on after the after the break, so they toughened on. The interval lasted 35 minutes. They were about 2 hours in the night, plus the hour they had been early. They liked Séan but couldn't really get the theme of his story . 4 Farmers trying to marry off their son's to one woman. They vied to impress her by bringing a tree, a rock and a bull from different provinces. But the Portmagee lad was a cute hoor and kept quiet about what he had. Somehow the beast fell over the tree which broke the rock. Then the Portmagee lad took an acorn out of his pocket and said it was 'Hope'.
The MC was a very excellent portrait artist who doesn't excel at organisational skills. Says the wan-my own efforts at organising anything leave a lot to be desired. They weren't impressed with the giving of small prizes leaving the biggest hamper until near the end. Maybe she thought it would increase the suspense? A basket was given out to the wrong coloured ticket holder. That was a big indiscretion. Even though a raffle is just a bonus chance to win something. You're not guaranteed you will win or even win something you like. Irish people enjoy this form of gambling. It won't break you, and the odds are high enough of winning.
A performance piece about breathing followed. My Mother and Sue didn't realise that at first. Sue was genuinely worried about the performer. It turned out he was just demonstrating what it can look like when someones having a panic attack. Sue starting laughing, with relief, that he was actually alright. I think my Mother found that the funniest part of the night.
She said she was glad she wasn't looney and them people probably needed something more uplifting. I'm not sure that's how mental issues work.Basically, she thought something lighter might help. She told my daughter she was there for 5 hours-excluding travel time. My daughter said 'Mental health is time-consuming'.
Maybe I'll entertain myself in the New Year buying her tickets to events I'm not sure she will like but will feel obligated to go to.I've started with 'The Matchmaker'.
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