St. Patrick's Day Parade...San Francisco celebrates! Saturday March 12th!

 



On Saturday, March 12th, the annual St. Patrick's Day celebrations kick off in downtown San Francisco.

Mike Moriarty takes on the duties of Grand Marshall for the much-anticipated parade which starts at 2nd Street at 11:30 a.m. and heads up Market Street to the Civic Plaza.

The theme this year is "Giving Back."

Revellers will join in and participate in "all things" Irish.

For starters, there will be a fine array of Irish dishes and children's rides to keep the blues at bay.

My father was a fiddler who once played with legendary Don Messer in Toronto (Canada).

For years, my dad played up a storm - with a twinkle in his eye - with the Jolly Millers (his band) who played in Hogs Hollow (a few decades ago!).

So, I am of Irish decent.

Consequently, I'll be trotting down to the festivities to get heartily involved.

At a minimum, I'll be chug-a-lugging a mug of green ale or two!

See 'ya there!

http://www.thetattler.biz



Old posters collector's items!

Internet...intriguing ghosts from the past! Touching someone!



Heady days at Rochdale College!

Today, I am once again swept away by the remarkable mysteries of life, and - most certainly - the potent reach of the Internet!

For instance, earlier today, a curious e-mail arrived from across the miles from an individual I met by chance over forty years ago in Toronto (my hometown).

A young woman - by the name of Jennifer - zipped off the communication to determine if I was "Don" - who used to reside in an ashram suite at Rochdale College in 1968 (an experimental communal-living unit at the free school) - which was all decorated in black (and featured in TIME magazine that year).

In a previous post, I mentioned my heady days at the free college, in the turbulent sixties!

Post: 10/26/2008

http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2008/10/blogginginternet-opens-door-to-past.html

So, I expect that by way of a precise search on GOOGLE, the lass was able to locate me years later, as I vacation here in San Francisco (and work on a new series of paintings).

In response, I composed a quick note to inform the acquaintance from the past  - that yes, indeed - I was the individual she was seeking from the ghostly (but memorable) days of her youth.

My birth name was "Donald", but years later - after I was separated from my family - I legally changed my name to Julian Ayrs (and - subsequently - my destiny was set on another path, too!).

Just now, I received a delightful e-mail back, in which Jennifer fondly recalled that I was kind-of-like a Pied-Piper who delighted folks way back then (when I was a free spirit and danced in the streets of downtown Toronto).

Whew!

That's over four decades ago!

But, what touched me most, were the kind sentiments expressed therein.

Gosh, it's such a compliment to remembered so fondly over the years, and still be in the heart and mind of a innocent young girl, who was a mere eight years old when our paths originally first crossed!

Life is sweet, eh?

And, I count my blessings, for that!

http://www.thetattler.biz

Unknown Student

(Rochdale College on Bloor St. in Toronto)

Dark Secrets...seduced by older sister playing Doctor! The healing process is painful!



For the first time in years, I suddenly recalled an unpleasant memory from my childhood, which unexpectedly loomed large in my consciousness yesterday afternoon.

Out-of-the-blue one day, about fifty years ago, my older sister lured me in to her bedroom to play "Doctor".

For some inexplicable reason, the almost-surreal fleshy images of "Doreen" naked on the bed - urging me to stroke her vagina - triggered a flood of emotions difficult to wrestle with.

Perhaps, it was the confession of a Senator (who was sexually assaulted when he was a youth) that jolted the sick memories loose from the inner reaches of my mind - to the upper realms of my waking consciousness now.

Just maybe, I've unknowingly been scarred by the seduction for decades, oblivious to their negative impact on my overall psyche or even my day-to-day personal and professional relationships.

And, what of my self-esteem!

Was it adversely affected, too, without my knowledge?

The cloud that looms over me now has caused me to reflect - and seek healing - in a bid to free myself of the shackles that once bound me 'til now.

Meanwhile, in spite of the fact I was separated from my family when I was about ten or eleven years old, my sister contacted me recently to strike up ties once again after stumbling on my blog on the Internet.

When I failed to respond to her urgent messages, she fired off an angry response.

"I am your sister, you know."

Personally, I feel that just because you are born into a family, does not mean you are required to remain in that family circle, or carry on a charade.

Notwithstanding, God took me by the hand, and led me down another path long ago.

In the final analysis, I hope that parents will teach their children to be careful not to overstep their bounds, or betray a sacred family trust.

Amen!

http://www.thetattler.biz



The innocence of youth!

Burials...separated at Death! Lest we forget...

When I was just a boy, I recall clutching my mother's hand as we strolled through a wide field dotted with a few humble headstones where they lay inscribed all around us marking the graves.

A slight breeze whispered in my ear as I struggled to keep up.

The Cemetery, in the West End of Toronto, was a relatively new burial ground.

There were no grand old oaks, just a handful of young samplings sprouting about here and there, straining towards the nurturing sunlight.

Years later, when I returned after a long stint in California, I was awestruck by the majestic trees that now touched the sky, rooted firmly in the rich soil below.

It was forty years since my last visit.

Unfortunately, I was facing a dilemma.

During a period after my father's death - while my mother lay ill in a Nursing Home - I happened to come across a certificate in her personal belongings (a beautifully-crafted document in ornate script) which confirmed she was to be laid to rest next to my father.

At the time, I recall being quite astounded by the wording.

IDA MAE HOLYOAK and VICTOR GEORGE HOLYOAK to be interned side-by-side "forever".

Gosh, I vividly recall saying to myself, "Forever" is a long time.

Unfortunately, there was a mix-up at the time of my Mother's passing - and as a result - my parents were separated at "death".

I was in California and out-of-touch with distant relatives when my mother - who had been in a vegetative state for about two years due to a stroke - suddenly succumbed and met her maker.

For some inexplicable reason, the certificate for the plot was overlooked, and my poor mother was buried across town miles from her beloved Victor.

Theirs was a great love story.

My mother was a farm girl from Brampton (Ontario) and my Dad was a fiddler who immigrated from Ireland with his mother and three sisters to York County at the turn of the century.

Unfortunately, due to a tragedy, my father passed away when I was a baby - and the troubles descended upon my dear mother shortly thereafter - without mercy.

Today, when I reflect on the situation, it's quite evident to me now.

In due time, I must take it upon myself to set things right.

Until my mother and father are side by side, their souls will never rest in peace!

I pray that they are patient.

*******
A happy man marries the girl that he loves
A happier man loves the girl he marries

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