The Mad Hatter's Box, June issue of Hot Press, 1999

This is a transcript of excerpts from ‘The Mad Hatter’s Box’ in the June issue of HotPress. It involves a formulaic list of questions that are given to each month’s selected interviewee. This was Mike Moloney, a 2FM presenter. It had me keeling over with laughter by the end of it so I’m hoping for a similar desired effect, though that may be slim.

Favorite saying: ‘Absolutely.’

Favorite record? ‘Lullaby for a Lonely Child’ 1969

Favorite Book? ‘Weaveworld by Clive Barker’

Favorite Film? ‘Mary Poppins (Go on, try it when your down, it works)’ –Laugh ins were a family phase once. One time the film/Uncle Albert was involved, seeing as it was a space we’d already hit multiple times.

Favorite musician? ‘Impossible to pick.’

Biggest thrill? ‘The birth of my son.’

You can guess his favourite form of relaxation.

Biggest disappointment? ‘At 40 still not finding a real point to it all.’

Your concept of heaven? ‘To find out there actually is one.’

Greatest ambition? ‘To be at my own wake.’

Period of history you’d most liked to have lived in and why? ‘30-33 AD – just to see if all that gospel stuff is true.’

If you were told that the world was ending tomorrow morning how would you react/what would you do? ‘Have the wildest 24 hours of my life.’

Your nominee for the world’s best dressed person? ‘The Divine Miss C – Naked.’

Favorite term of abuse? ‘But it has to be your fault.’

Biggest fear? ‘Crossing to the other side and finding nothing there.’

Humanity’s most useful invention? ‘Anything that can record music.’

What would be your dying words? ‘At last – a few answers . . . I hope.’

June 28 1999 - Dublin

I've bought liquor and on the way back I've a hankering for a roof, any roof; the sky's alive this evening. Oh I wish in my head for a green, a roof, a seclusion to dance on at night. While maybe not satisfying all these requirements, in my quest for sky I realize (Duh!) that the best roof in the vicinity is behind our own out back (we live above the 'Darling Buds of May' florists on Lord Edward St.), and I hurry home. This involves climbing out the bathroom window (which is high) on the third floor to get onto the roof.

The first time I watch a sunset entire, with full concentration, in Ireland, and the fact is I haven't observed one in a very long time, and then some. (What college 'll do.) From a three story ledge looking over Christ Church. Lovely.

So I was listening to music very late in bed tonight, got up and saw a distorted white beam coming through the bathroom window, and immediately knew that it was full moon. (Also my first seen Full Moon in Ireland.) Oh My. No wonder you're skittish.

So I dress, grab my newly acquired bottle of wine (with ancillary regrets of what I've left back home) -nevermind, I have a stack of cassette tapes and climb back out on the roof. It's a moon watching spot. Oh Joy. I drink the whole thing, I sing the songs, chatter amused-ly to myself, but mainly I sing. Tonight I was in communion.

The roof is metal and corrugated every five inches or so but the strip on the peak is flat (though peaked), and I end up dancing its length all over repeatedly. To my delight I find I can shadow dance. The street lamp put a vivid template on the brick wall of our apartment. There are even two paler subsidiary ghosts. So I'm dancing on a metal balance beam, sloped with a peak, slippery with dew. I never fell, but I had a delightful time.