Come Back to Erin

“Pearls lie not on the seashore. If thou desirest one thou must dive for it.”—Chinese proverb.

Looks like Sting will have to wait. And Paula Abdul is on her own.

My sister and I will be traveling to Ireland in August to meet up with our niece who is studying at Trinity College in Dublin.

This will be a return trip for both of us. I went to Ireland some 40 years ago to take a screenwriting class that had been organized by the School of Visual Arts in New York.

I stayed at Trinity back then and I had such a great time, meeting new people, experiencing a different culture, and drinking far too much.

In fact, I think I still may have a free pass to Lord John’s disco where I got seriously wasted one night. Too bad the place isn’t around anymore.

Just as well, I can’t drink like I did back in my younger days. But you should see me dance.

There was another club called Zhivago’s, which had a huge billboard in downtown Dublin that described it as “Europe’s No.1 Nite Club,” but I never got around to seeing the place.

I had thought about going to Las Vegas in June to see Sting perform, but I’ll probably flag this trip in favor of the Emerald Isle.

I can catch Sting in Atlantic City if I want to, and Las Vegas isn’t going anywhere.

Of course, no vacation plan would be complete without a hefty dose of drama and that kicked off this morning when I found out my passport had expired.

I was under the mistaken impression that I could renew my paperwork online, but, no, I have to fill out a lengthy form, get new passport photos and then mail the whole thing to Irving, Texas with a rather sizeable check.

Peril Before Whine

Even though we’re not leaving until the end of July, I want to get this business settled as quickly as possible, so I called a Rite Aid in my neighborhood today to see if they could help me out with the photos.

Naturally I was kept on hold where I had to listen to Paula Abdul’s 1988 song “Forever Your Girl” for what seemed like…forever.

I wasn’t a fan of this song when it came out and being forced to listen to it while under extreme duress has not improved things. (Nothing personal, Paula.)

Worse yet, an android voice would constantly cut in at the same exact point in the song to tell me that a human being still wasn’t available to help me.

“Baby, he could promise me diamonds, even if he promised me—”

“Pearls, damn it!” I shouted. “He’s promising her pearls!”

Finally, I got through and they told me to come on up. I race-walked 20 blocks to the store where a very helpful young man took my U.S. government mug shots.

He was just putting the photos into an envelope when a song started playing on the store’s sound system.

“Hey baby, you gotta remember, I'm forever your—”

Resisting to urge to scream, I took my photos and bounced on own home.

Tomorrow I’ll head over to the post office and--hopefully--send my paperwork off.

I always get very nervous dealing with government agencies and this week I’m taking on two of them: the State Department for the passport and Internal Revenue for my taxes.

I’m so worried that one my forms will be rejected, I won’t get my passport, I won’t see Ireland, and I won’t be able to get “Forever Your Girl” out of my head.

All right, the last one isn’t so serious. But please Dear Lord, let me get my passport and a tax refund so I can pay for my vacation.

If everything comes together, this could be a pearl of a trip.