Catchphrase

Obamania swept across Ireland this week when the 44th President of the United States made a brief but well received visit to our green, if financially in the red, and pleasant shores. It seemed that everyone fell for the Commander in Chief, and who can blame them. Well spoken, handsome and erudite, he is the epitome of charm and charisma.

Everyone, that is, but me. As I sat stuck in traffic on my detoured bus for an hour and a half, a journey which normally takes thirty minutes at peak times, I couldn’t help but notice my hospitality was slightly waning. Then I was informed by a twelve year old policewoman that I couldn’t cross the road on my return journey. This meant I had to go an extra half a kilometre before I could start to walk home because nobody could tell me what route my bus was now taking. At this stage I believe my words where ‘Barack you, Obama.’

I was definitely in the minority though. Thousands lined the street and millions watched from home, hanging on every word of a rousing address. One that people claim gives us hope and a reason to be proud. Personally I think Brendan Gleeson’s oratory was just as powerful and considering he is not a politician a lot more genuine. I appreciate the feel good factor of what Obama says but let’s not get carried away.

Relating these feelings to a friend I realised that I sounded like a bit of a grumpy bastard. It wouldn’t be the first time. I apologised for my negativity and she said it was ok she had been doing a bit of moaning herself recently. To this I replied ‘Misery loves company.’

Such a cliché. Had I really said that? Not something I’d generally say but it just kind of slipped out. It’s more along the lines of what I’d expect my Mum or even my Nan to say. Moving on, I put it from my mind until later that evening, when trite statement number two burst forth from my lips.

Seeing an approaching black cloud and impending rain storm I noted that it was ‘Dirty ol sky.’ I slapped my hand over my mouth as I tried to stuff the words back in. Had I turned into some middle aged cranky farmer? The first two, possibly but I wouldn’t know one end of a corn field from another.

Although if it’s a choice between sounding like Miley from Glenroe or trying to be cool and down with the kids I’m not sure which I prefer. I recently saw Gwyneth Palthrow use the expression ‘Amazeballs’ in an episode of Glee. Such a blatant cry for acceptance from youth culture I have never seen. But then she did marry the world’s least rock n’ roll ‘rockstar’.

I quite like the adage ‘Awesome Sauce,’ but I can’t pull it off. When I say it people look at me as if I were a DVD that skipped and they missed a part of my sentence. Am I at some kind of in between stage where nothing I say can truly represent my demographic? Too young for prosasim’s yet too long in the tooth for hip buzzwords.

If that’s the case I’ll just have to bide my time, show some patience and wait my turn. Soon the day will when I can talk about ‘back in my day.’ Until then, I’ll just hang ten, keep on rockin in the free world and mosey along. I just hope I’ll be able to do all the old chestnuts justice. I should be ok though. I just have to remember ‘Yes we can.’