Even Better than Crusoe

"Father
I need a lend of 500 pounds
'Coz we are gonna go over to London
And get ourselves a record deal
And when we get the record deal
We're not gonna stay in London
We're not gonna go to New York City.
We're gonna stay and base our crew in Dublin.
Because these people. This is our tribe."


The crowd explodes into a cheer, loving fans; and as the most ridiculously optimistic lead singer
of the showiest band in the world picks up the song where they left it off a minute ago; Bono
shouts 'I'm out of control'. Watching it some years later on a laptop, I am, Irish. Thats U2.


The words 'this is our tribe' weren't familiar, but felt familiar. Words that smelt of proud
comfort; of being around people you understand and know. The sort of comfort that hems you in a kind of blanket of warmness; lulling you to sleep.


There is a saying that my dad used to tell me often when the prospect of leaving home to make a
life during my teenage years seemed too taxing. It went like no seed can become a tree unless it
leaves the side of the one it was born of. It had the kind of bitter sweet ring to it that parently
sayings usually have. Sweet enough to sound good, hard enough to be ruggedly realistic. And like most parently sayings, I soon realized that every ounce of it was true.


Over the last 6 years that has happened progressively with me. And I think the process will end for the time being when I leave for Australia next January. Australia; the word fills me with delight and fear at the same time. I am happily standing next to the beautiful Flinder Street station, eating my crocodile pie when a herd of goggle wearing kangaroos driving big blue Monaros runs me over; and all of this happening while Men at Work's Down


Under plays on a radio somewhere. Crikey!
I feel a bit like Robinson Crusoe must have had he been a real person. I know in some sort of
bizzare (and scaaringly, maybe contrived) way what I am getting into. It should let me do what I want to and hopefully get into what I want to. But I know there is a very high chance it will do me no good; and that I will spent my entire life trying to love something that I have consigned my whole life to. But like Robinson Crusoe, the luxuries of the middle order of life are not for me.
The sea beckons and I need to go.
I love my tribe. There is no doubt I will miss it. Terribly. But I can at least do better that
Robinson Crusoe and hope it will all work out fine.


I just hope Melbourne is on U2's next tour.