In a little pub on the southwest coast of Ireland, I encountered a sullen little man who told me this story. He said, "ya know lad... I built this beautiful hand carved and intricately decorated bar. I fashioned it from the finest local woods, and I rubbed 15 coats of laquer to this lustrous finish. But do the call me Seamus the Bar builder? NO!! ...and do ya see that wall out there?? I found every stone, collected them from all over the county, moved them here in a barrow with my own two hands, with the sweat of my own brow, meticulously fitted and leveled them into the masterpiece you see before you. But do thy call me Seamus the Wall builder?? NO!!! And through the window as you look toward the sea -- do you see that pier with a dozen fishing boats tied up to it. I stripped naked and dove into the icy water to set the posts deep in the mud and sand of the harbor bottom, and labored on the deck to make it safe for generations of fisherman. But do they call me Seamus the Pier builder?? NO!!!! But.... you F*#K ONE GOAT!!!!...........
Posted on: Mon, 10 Jun 2013 16:51:01 +0000
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