tratto dal divertente blog irish expat in Buenos Aires
I have many fond childhood memories of when my family went camping in the UK and Ireland for summer holidays in a large 6 man tent. Before he retired, my dad worked in the post office. One of his co-workers and good friends was a man called Bobby Hewson a.k.a - Bono's dad (of U2 fame).
Back in the late 70's, U2 were still up and coming and playing small gigs around Dublin. They wanted to go camping and Bobby, knowing that my dad had a large tent, asked if the lads could borrow it for a long weekend. I'm not sure, but I think they may have gone to a national park called Lough Key which is a beautiful spot. It's hard to imagine the fab four slummin' it in a tent but we are all nobodies until we're a somebody.
After the long weekend, weeks and then months went by and still the tent hadn't been returned. My dad being overly polite as always, never asked his friend when it would be returned. There was no sense of urgency as we (the kids) were now more grown up and unlikely to be going camping with the old blue rinse crew parents. In the end, the tent was never returned.
Before he sadly passed away back in 2001, Bobby (a man of humble origins) recounted a story to my dad of being flown out, first class to some exotic location to meet up with Bono and staying in the executive suite of some 5 star hotel where a boiled egg and cup of tea was billed at US$50. Clearly the lads had climbed the ranks from tent borrowing muppets to 5 star - Rock Star status and fair fucks to them I say!
But Bono, if by some 'mysterious ways' you happen to be reading this, I just want to remind you - YOU OWE ME A TENT! (ok - with 20 years rental on a tent - I'll settle for a house) and if you 'Walk away, walk away, walk away, walk away, I will follow!'