Thursday, October 14, 2004
R.I.P.It's with a touch of sadness that I just learned of the death of Pete McCarthy, writer and radio personality in London. And, perhaps, distant relative through my grandmother, Katherine Evangeline McCarthy.
His books, "McCarthy's Bar" ("never pass by a bar that has your name") and "The Road to McCarthy" highlight the trials and tribulations of the Irish diaspora - albeit, with a tongue that's been loosened by "drink". Not many writers can cause me to laugh out loud on a consistent basis, and Pete McCarthy was right at the top of the list (well, sharing first place with Dave Barry).
Read the books when you have the opportunity and have a drink in McCarthy's memory.
Of all the money ere I had, I spent it in good company
And all the harm I've ever done, alas was done to none but me
and all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall
so fill me to the parting glass, goodnight and joy be with you all.
Of all the comrades ere I had, they're sorry for my going away
and all the sweethearts ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay
but since it falls unto my lot that I should go and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be with you all.
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