Thursday, March 20, 2014

To Ireland

This summer Becky and I will be in Europe celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary . . . well, I'll be celebrating, she may be lamenting.  But we will be in Ireland, London, Paris, Rome, Florence and Venice. 

In preparation for our Ireland leg of the excursion I've been brushing up on my  pub jokes (most of them clean) and my Irish accent.  And this week I've also been visiting Ireland to obtain permissions for an upcoming book title that is scheduled for publication in October.

Obtaining these permissions (I find) is never an easy task, and I imagine certain conversations going like this:

Hello, this is Todd Alleycat, calling from America!  Top of the mornin' to ya!

Well, Mr. Alleycat, we've been expectin' ya to callous and we cain't wait 'till yer book is published.  We expect it to be a real wingdinger.  October, ya don't say?  Well, yes-sir-ee well be a gettin' those permissions to ya justa soon as we hear from hour permissions department.  Can we fax it to ya now?  Do ya have a fax over your way or is the carrier pigeon still a viable option fer ya?  You Americans . . . always in a hurry fer yer permissions, huh?  Well, we'll be gettin' right on it and tell us, what's the best way to be reachin' ya if'n we to ask a question er two?  Shall we give ya a jingle at this number or would you like fer us to call yer publisher direct?  Ahh, yes, that's a swell idea, Mr. Alleycat.  And bein' one of those authors we've never heard of, we'll just assume if it doesn't work out, ye might have to include a quote from Yeats or Thomas . . . we've got plenty of those boys a floatin' around the offices here in Dublin ya know.  Swell talkin' to ye, Mr. Alleycat.  Bless ye, me boy!  Bless ye!  And may the wind rise up to greet ye!  

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