Friend Stephan

 

   Having an hour to kill in Dingle Town a few years back, I made my way to the nearest pub, as people do in Ireland. It was a Saturday night and Ashe's Bar was busy. I spotted a couple of empty seats at the bar, and at the same time noticed two guys making a beeline for the same seats. We all arrived at the same second and after a friendly scrimmage, someone moved down and we were all three seated. I don't remember who bought the first round.

   Stephan and Jim- Jimmy to his friends, were from San Luis Obispo, California. 

"No Way!" I said. "My son Joe is getting married in San Luis Obispo in two months."

"Yeah, right," they said. "For one thing it's San Luis Obispo, not San Louie." They asked for the name of the venue. How would I know?

I retreated to the men's room and texted my future daughter-in-law Ashley back in the States. She responded immediately. 

"The Monday Club," I told them, restoring my credibility.

"We're crashing the wedding," they said. 

"Bring it on," I replied." 

As I understand it, the groom's father is responsible for dealing with wedding crashers. 

   Dingle is a small town (pop. 1671) with many pubs and bars (50). In the course of the week I ran into Stephan and Jimmy several times. Before heading off to the Irish Football Championships in Dublin, Stephan said he was putting me on his list of postcard recipients. Great. I love sending and receiving post cards. 

   

Stephan contacted me before the wedding. He and Jimmy are too well bred to crash a wedding, so I told them they should join us on the vineyard tour a couple of days after the wedding. San Luis Obispo is one of the main cities of the Central Coast wine growing region which is chock a block full of vineyards. The area is famous for its Chardonnays.

   

   Stephan and Jimmy met us at the last vineyard on the tour and we had a jolly time reliving old times in Dingle. I introduced them to as many of my nearest and dearest as I could and we confirmed addresses for the sending of postcards. Stephan and Jimmy's wives don't care to travel so the men sometimes traveled together in Europe. The postcards began arriving and I reciprocated, even if it was just from somewhere in the US. Bemidji is exotic too.

   

    Teresa and I had such a good time in San Luis Obispo that when Ashley's brother Lucas got married two years later we decided to crash the wedding. We had learned from the best. Joe and Ashley had two little kids by then and we offered to come out and babysit while Joe and Ashley helped with wedding preparations. The day we arrived in San Luis we met up with Stephan and Jimmy at Black Sheep, their favorite bar. Stephan's last name is Lamb, so that works well. We brought several of the wedding party along to the bar and a jolly time was had.

   

   The next day we were invited to Stephan and his wife Mary Ellen's home for lunch. Jimmy and his wife Polly were also there. Stephan put on a fabulous spread in his beautiful house. Life is serious and we must take care, but isn't the point to have as jolly a time as conditions allow?

   

   The following year the McDonnell family returned to Dingle. Joe and Ashley and her parents as well as Lucas and his wife Emily came too. Stephan and Jimmy said they were coming too. Jimmy made it to Dingle, but family business called him away before we got to see him. Stephan made his way to our compound carrying two bottles of Chardonnay and a bag of ice. He likes ice in his white wine. Nothing wrong with that. I anointed Stephan an official member of the McDonnell Family. 

   

   After that we kept in touch via postcards. The other day I got a message from Jimmy. Stephan had passed away on March 17 after a struggle with cancer and liver disease. I knew Stephan had had a job working with students at Cal Poly University in San Luis, but reading his obituary I was amazed at all the things he had been involved in. Stephan was a person who if I bumped into him in a foreign town or at his front door, he would be glad to see me. That for me is the definition of friend.

You never know who you might meet in an Irish pub.