fatman turner overdrive

 

The swirl of humanity along the pavements of Main Street Naas.

In the midst of it all I see a merry sort of man, grey haired, impish, possibly drunk.

He is bowing with olde worlde courtesy to all and sundry as they pass him.

I draw level.

He catches my eye.

"Have you got a baby in there?" he asks indicating my belly.

I laugh and walk on.

I'm thinking to myself that he has a certain charisma. He's a bit like Milo O'Shea or Barry Fitzgerald, famous Irish cinema actors of a particular era.

"If you could get him on stage," I muse aloud, "and keep him sober, that guy would be brilliant."

Another thought strikes me.

Is it possible.

After all these years.

Just the teensy weensiest bit possible.

That I've gotten a bit fat.