Several weeks prior, my second daughter found success. She and her partner, after eight long months of searching, managed to find an apartment that was exclusively theirs.
They understand that on comparative terms, they’ve stumbled upon a gold mine – in contrast to many, the eight-month search isn’t extensive. The flat is spacious, conveniently located near Dublin city centre, and the lease cost is exceptionally affordable – again, speaking relatively.
Individuals have frequently pestered them about the ‘trick’, but truth be told there isn’t a hidden method. They attained it through unremitting effort, supplemented by a considerable amount of providence. Their joy is immeasurable.
As fathers are prone to do, I was recruited to assist them in their relocation, my vehicle packed to the brim as I commuted through the city. More aptly described as inching, on an evening where the city is semi-paralysed due to a major event. A Coldplay concert was the cause on this occasion. The streets were teeming with individuals bedecked in their finest concert attire, totalling 300,000 over the course of four nights. I found myself contemplating how many were genuine fans or if the appeal lay primarily in the experience; navigating through the complications of Ticketmaster, the quest for reasonably priced accommodation. Even for those who have never intentionally listened to Coldplay in their life, enough of the band’s music has permeated society to be familiar enough to sing collectively along.
Despite the reverberating sounds from Croke Park, we completed the move subtly and adeptly, toting mirrors and countless black plastic bags via flights of stairs. Upon leaving, I was filled with a touch of envy. The first night in a new dwelling holds a distinctive allure, when fatigue outweighs the inclination to unpack everything. Instead, a takeaway meal is enjoyed as one gazes at their surroundings, everything bursting with possibilities that will remain as cherished memories forever.
The subsequent morn, herself arose surprisingly early to participate in the substantial digital line for oasis tickets; an occurrence that has already assumed the mythical status equated to Elvis’s demise or the same-sex marriage poll. It appears everyone has a personal tale about their whereabouts at the time of the event.
While I am not a follower and had no intent to attend, I became interested as I watched her progress from position 150,000 reduce to 47 before she was abruptly ejected due to purported “suspicious activity”.
Upon researching “Can Ticketmaster be accused of slander?”, I observed that herself was deeply disappointed. An unusual reaction considering that Oasis’s tunes had never been played in our music-loving home. She confessed that her interest in attending was partly triggered by FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). However, her desire was also rooted in nostalgia, as Oasis reminded her of Ireland from three decades ago. Similar to the prominence of Coldplay in the initial decade of this millennium, Oasis was omnipresent, their music playing in the backdrop during the Celtic tiger era. A time when people stood in lines for physical tickets, when radio was still a significant player, when there were no mobile phones or internet negativity, and housing was readily available. As it turns out, the 90s weren’t quite as grim as thought.
Simultaneously, our second offspring was already awake, fervently unpacking and arranging her belongings. I can’t help but speculate that in the future — say 30 years from now, she will hopefully reminisce about the good old days. I wonder though if her memories will come with a soundtrack.
Fast forward three decades, it is doubtful whether bands capable of summoning scores of spectators will still be around. There may be bands, of course, but given the fractured state of the music industry it seems highly unlikely that a single band could inspire widespread collective reminiscence. Taylor Swift might still be in the game in her sixties, or perhaps a more age-appropriate alternative would be to gather 80,000 spectators at Croker, all engrossed in their smartphones.