The Road to Skibbereen

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“Hey Mollie, McGuinty’s posting another letter by the dartboard. It’s addressed to him, Mick and Father O’Doul. Let’s go over and check it out.”

“So soon already! I never knew he could write so much. You know what? He’s even starting to make sense. I never would have believed it.”

“Never mind all that, let’s just see what he has to say before we make any rash judgements. Anyway, I know your eyes are bad, so I’ll even read it to you.”

“Thanks, Shaggy, you’re not as bad as your name suggests.”

“OK, OK, with all that. So here goes:

I just wanted you people to know more about those little people in the mirrors at Reagan’s Saloon. They’re never satisfied. They keep going on and on. They never stop. They’re telling me stuff I already know, but they tell it in ways that seem to have more meaning than what I’m hearing. And, they know more about me than I ever could realize myself.

And, you know when they do the most talking? When I’m trying to tell everybody else in this saloon what to do and how to do it. You know, just like I used to do with you guys before I came over here. They see things differently than I do. I can’t see them, but I keep hearing them loud and clear. They never let up. On and on and on.

Would you believe it? They even talk more that all you guys put together. And, get this, they know more about me than you guys ever did. They see me from all parts of that mirror. They see parts of me that you never saw.

You know what? Them little buggers are beginning to make sense.

And furthermore, they’re telling me that Seanna has more sides to her than I am able to see. How the hell do they know all that? They’re just little voices in a bunch of mirrors. They see me, but I can’t see them. It’s kind of spooky, wouldn’t you think? They’ve never seen Seanna in this place. She’s up in Galway on the farm we bought together. She’s milking the cows and making butter.

She makes real good butter. She sells a ton of it, and people come back for more. She knows how to get help churning it, too, and how to present it in the marketplace. A girl of many talents. Lots of laughter, and out of sight with friends and customers.

You want to know something? She is why I’m paying my tabs from over here and sending my back tab payments to you, McGuinty. Even the Repo Man has stopped looking for me. I made all my back payments and paid the outstanding payments on my Accord to boot.

I’m a free man with coins in my pocket, and satisfaction in my gut. McGoon is gone forever. I’ll be sending you all the details, one episode at a time as my electricity project progresses. It’s all about the farm, the animals, the cycles, and the little people. It never ends. It just keeps going. Everything, in its own mysterious way, helps me choose the right roads to take. Like those forks that always keep popping up around here. In fact, here’s a picture of one. It even sounds like it’s related to me. It starts out that way, anyway. It even gives me an idea. Maybe I’ll go to Skibbereen. It rhymes with green. And this whole island of Ireland is really green…

More about it all at a later time. Enough for now…

Skibootch.

So, that’s it Mollie, but it sounds like we’re going to hear a lot more.”