Gray

Gray, slate and steel, non-bluish shaded and dull gray. When God was dishing out personality to colour, gray was way back at the end of the line. Good gray has a hint of glinty silver like that cloudy lining; Irish gray is not good gray. “Soft day thank God”, is no excuse for the drabness and desolation of our summer turning autumnal gray.  That soft overcast gray day helps with an understanding of the constituents of an Irish Psyche, which when adequately enflamed or alcohol fuelled will rail against generations of drab and gray and GAA.

My preference for fuchsia and lavender is born here. I pull back curtains and open up double doors to let truculent light seep into our home. I turn on lights which my wife then turns off, all her family turn off lights in my home which they liken to a beacon.  I sit by windows whenever possible, under roof lights and stand in porches; these are the first places I seek out.  

Work is a necessary gray, gray conformist engineers and administrators, chameleon marketing traitors grasping gray from a colourful possibility. Top notch good gray managers who inhabit a techno sepia black and white, urging their graylings, motivating them, storming, norming and performing with them in an Ingmar Bergman vignette.

Enough Sniffle, desist with the gray thing, you’re bringing me down.

Our clip clopping free style hip hop artiste is changing school.  Hold tight folks, turbulence up ahead and I hate flying anyway.  I shouldn’t say, I really shouldn’t cause I’ve always made out like a bandit that this bloggy thing would NEVER be a diary, but come here till I tell you. She morphs with two Bacardi breezers, morphs into her own little manifestation of a government anti drink add. And if that is all that happens for the rest of this year, we will be fortunate gray fuckers.

Like a pitchfork holding back the tide, I’m holding onto summer and will soon start the annual last man to give up his shorts contest, which my pal won last November before he was admitted for pneumonia.  So winter beckons, and gray skies sit Buddha stoic and unmoving overhead, and the truculent light seeps through and splits into family primary colours which burst kaleidoscopically into children and sport and wine and beer. Woohoo, woofuckinghoo I say.

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11 responses to “Gray

  1. I say we take back the gray.Let’s not suffer under it’s heel any more.Instead let us embrace it,own it and revel in it’s very Irishness.

    ..I’m biased.I love charcoal gray.

  2. Spot on Dev, and liking charcoal gray helps too.
    I’m waiting though, waiting for the first wave of weather emmigrants. I reckon I’d be one of them were it not for the ties that bind. I like sun shine and clear skys and living outside. Maybe, in the years ahead.

  3. ” winter beckons, and gray skies sit Buddha stoic and unmoving overhead, and the truculent light seeps through and splits into family primary colours which burst kaleidoscopically into children and sport and wine and beer”

    I may re-work that and have in on my gravestone…..crikey….

  4. Hiya and thanks Manuel, and you got the bottom of the thing too.

  5. Greetings.

    I apologize for the off-topic comment.

    I am responding your remarks directed at me over at Sam’s place.

    First, I voted for Mr. Obama in the primary.

    Second, I would suggest you read this, before you draw any conclusions about me.

    Again, I apologize for the off-topic comment.

    Cheers.

  6. A beautiful meditation on gray. There are some just beautifully poetic lines in there. Like Manuel, the last one is my favourite.

  7. Regarding you last comment at mine, I was not in the least embarrassed. There is nothing about either you or Randall that embarrasses me and I’m glad to know you both and call you friends. You are a passionate fellow adn you speak a different language from a temperate fellow from Missouri. Personally, I find a lot to admire in both your passionate nature and Randall’s temperate one (and I know that these are pretty simplistic descriptions besides.) You clashed momentarily, that’s all. You’re both adults with your own agency, you’re both my friends and that’s that. My friends don’t embarrass me.

  8. Hi.

    Thanks for visiting my place. I apologize for taking offense. As I’ve said, I distrust all politicians. I’m not notable by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve had “brushes with ‘greatness'” over the years with politicians of both parties, from cocktail get-togethers to dining in their kitchens. I’m 48 years old and I know, the bastards lie to the public in order to get us to surrender our personal autonomy for some nebulous “good,” which — Surprise! — seems ever elusive.

    Sorry for another off-topic comment. Thanks for stopping by and please feel free to come by any time and comment. You are most welcome.

    Cheers.

  9. Hi Randall,

    You’re a good man and there is no need to apologise. A case of crossed wires or as Sam put it, a culture clash. ( she’s Brilliant at putting things). If anything it was I who went off the deep end a little, not realizing that I might have hurt someone. So, thanks much for caring and coming back.

    I think you guys have a real chance with BO. I really do. Perhaps I see it with rose tinted glasses from over here, but I must say that I like what I’ve read and what I’ve heard.

    For the most part though, I think politicians are scum.

  10. This is gorgeous, Sniffle.

    Could I email you, perchance?

  11. Hiya Jo .

    Thanks much, jeez. Mail away.

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