I guess there isn’t a cow milked in the country this morning, what with the stampede to get hold of Garth Brooks concert tickets.
More precious than a covid cert, ‘tis only a fool would want to be left without one. I plan to be up at the crack of dawn, or before it, in the hope of securing a ticket for the show.
Garth is fierce popular with the 50-something brigade; he’s like our messiah.
I was disappointed of course that Garth didn’t set his mind to come further south.
He will after all be a bit out of place in Dublin city, To be honest, I’m not sure how Garth will cope with such a cosmopolitan environment.
Garth is a cowboy, and like most cowboys suited to the great outdoors, not the Dart, the Luas, or Liffey Valley.
The last time I went to Dublin, I couldn’t wait to get home. I had been there visiting a relation of mine, a countryman like me and Garth, who had settled in Dublin back in the ‘70s. But alas, a man who had completely lost his marbles as a result. The urban sprawl had affected him greatly.
And that is why today I’m putting out a call to suggest if Garth Brooks would like to stay in accommodation more suited to a man of his country origins, he would be most welcome to put his feet up here on my ranch.
I cannot promise him the Hilton, but I can promise a bed, a hot meal and an opportunity to roll up his sleeves and help me out around the place.
Let’s face it, while Garth is a wonderful singer, and I’m sure a decent man to boot, he’s clearly a man who is seldom idle. And I fear all that free time in Dublin between concerts, would do him no good.
Instead of pacing up and down Grafton St for hours on end, wouldn’t it be far better if he was to get his hands dirty on some project of mine that has gone a bit arse ways?
In the finish, Garth will probably end up playing about seven or eight concerts in Ireland so the man could be here for a large portion of time.
One job, in particular, that is outstanding on this farm at the moment is the painting of the chimney. It’s in dire need of an uplift.
It’s a job that has been on my mind with a spell, but one which I cannot tackle on my own.
My hope is that if Garth Brooks was to touch down here for a couple of days, he might run up a ladder and dash a bit of paint on the blasted object.
And while up there he might as well stick down a chimney brush in an effort to free up to thing, I fear it might be half blocked.
Anyhow, I would hold the ladder, and give instructions, so there would be no fear.
Garth could be my friend in high places. Indeed he might give me a few bars of a tune while busily freeing up the chimney pot.
The only danger with my whole plan is that Garth might get fond of the work here and not bother with his concerts at all.
But leaving this aside, his accommodation would be first-class and would match anything the plush hotels of Ballsbridge could offer.
When he does arrive, we need to make him feel at home — be it in the kitchen or up on the roof.





