Catching the Gerburstag bug

Catch up time and I’m striking while the pen is still wet. Last night we celebrated the birthday of our friend Todd “Tad” Trivisonno (above) at our favorite local joint the Bayrish-Irish, which is a little bit of Bavaria, a little bit of Ireland, and somehow just feels like home.

Tad and Jeb (aka Jeff Carson) showed up fresh from the trachten outlet and their new outfits just might have earned them enough points to audition for the buddymollys. 

And speaking of Ireland, our most recent trip back to the motherland had us criss-crossing through the past and making loads of new memories as well. Molly had never been to Ireland, and I had never been to London, so we each planned the legs we knew best. 

Besides the great “craic,” fish & chips and music (to include some traditional sessions in which we participated and the Cambridge Folk Festival), incredible hiking and scenery in Northern Ireland and cruising London’s posh streets, I’d say the highlight of the 10-day trip was an unexpected surf session in Portrush. Even though it was our first time in wetsuits, we totally shredded Ireland’s north shore. 

In fact, I think we’re officially ready for the Bavarian surf scene – but that’s a story for another blog (in a few days).

2 illegitimate 2 quit

Like the surf I thought we had left behind in Hawaii, apparently I left some unfinished business when I left Dublin more than a decade ago.

Right before I flew out in 1998 I withdrew everything from my student checking account, or so I thought. There must have been less than an Irish pound in there. Every once in a while over the years I’d get a bank statement at my mom’s house, but I figured they’d eventually just close the account due to inactivity.

So during this trip we stopped into a local Bank of Ireland branch to see if we could finally close the account. (For the record, my mom wanted me to keep it because she thought it was cool to have an international bank account.)

My little neglected student account blossomed through the boom and recession and grown to a whopping 16 euros. Unfortunately, the teller said I had to show up in person at the branch where I opened the account (at the University College Dublin campus, about a 15-20 min. bus ride) to officially close it. Short on time and with more important things to do, we headed to the pub and eventually to the North that day.

I guess closing the account is something I won’t be able to 'bank' on anytime soon. (no service charge for puns on student accounts.)