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Bono 'It was only a ham sandwich"
Stan Keaton [FGAQ]
- Catching up with our old friend Bono at McGuilicutti's Pub in south Dublin
this Saturday night, I had only one question on my mind. Or perhaps it
wasn't so much a question as a conversation starter. Not that Bono and I
need any help in getting the old tongues in gear - a few frothy Harps, and
we're yammering away like a couple of Balbriggan schoolgirls with a new tube
of airplane glue.
And yet the words did drop from my mouth,
like some mangy mongrel might deposit a gift by your doorstep. "Well, Bono
me old pal," I said, "how was it then, having luncheon with the Bush clan?"
"Not the Bush clan," he corrects me, "just
mum and pop. The girls weren't there, even though their father had told me
they would be. He said they were big honkin' fans. And there I am, just
looking for a bit of fluff."
Still, we prodded our dear chum, it must have
been quite a treat, eating lunch and what-all.
"It was only a ham sandwich," my buddy boy
told me, his face brightening considerably at the memory. "But what a ham
sandwich it was. I'm telling you Stanley, a swine such as this truly melts
in your mouth. It seems they have this farm outside of Santa Fe where they
raise all the wee piglets on a mixture of butter and honey, and they let
them mature until they die naturally from heart attacks. They're plump
little things, but rather small - only about the size of an icebox
watermelon. And they're able to grow them without bones, so they're almost
all meat."
Although I was now salivating profusely, I
pressed on for more of the 411 from my old best mate. "So then, did you have
a chance to bring up world hunger to the American president?"
"I wasn't very bleedin' hungry after that ham
sandwich," my clever comrade told me. "It was huge. And the chips. Did you
know that the White House makes their own chips? They've got a special
machine that Laura Bush herself showed me. Totally automatic. You just feed
it a potato and presto, three minutes later there's a steaming pile of
chips. I asked her where I could acquire one for me self, but she said it
was a prototype of sorts. But she did tell me to keep an eye out under my
Christmas tree."
About now I found myself envying the old
bugger. What? Like I don't deserve a spot of the glamorous life as well? Oh,
perhaps I'm being a bit of a petty prig, so let's get on with the loudmouth.
"I did get a chance to talk about aids for a
moment, but the president told me that it was a rather unpleasant matter to
discuss at the dinner table. I think he had a valid point there, I mean, who
wants to be digging into a peach cobbler and moaning on about dead bodies?" |
