I know it’s been six years since I have written regularly. I have been working on so many other projects that I have not had the time to work on this forum. When I do get back to this space in the (hopefully, near) future, there will be one major change to Irishman for Hire:
Due to global regulatory changes that have occurred over the past six years, Irishman for Hire will be unable to allow readers to comment on articles that are posted or old articles that are currently posted on IFH.
Thank you for your understanding, your friendship and your constant support.
I wrote a post back in December of 2010 about how a friend of mine and I were able to compose a song while on two different continents. The article, The Internet Still Amazes Me, was a simple telling of how those efforts came together.
Now, here we are six years later and we finally have a final product to all of that work. Great Job, Des! You worked your magic and made the words come to life! Keep up the great work!
Thank you for the emails asking for more content. I apologize for not writing lately. Let me correct that, I apologize for not writing for Irishman For Hire lately. I have been writing.
Last year, I took a job that requires a lot of my time from September through June. Last summer, I started working on a writing project that has taken up most of my free time. I hope to complete this project this summer. I will share more about this project when the time comes to do so.
In the meantime, Irishman For Hire has been the project that I have neglected the most. Thank you for continuing to ask me when I will have new material. But do not worry, I will sporadically be publishing articles in the near future and when my other project is done, I will be back here a lot.
Thank you for all of your support! And thank you for continuing to share my part of this miraculous world! You guys rock!
In 2008, I decided that, at the end of the awards season (The Golden Globes, The Oscars, The Grammy’s, etc.), I was going to give out a single award here at Irishman For Hire called the Blarney Stone Award. The Blarney Stone is a block of bluestone atop the Blarney Castle in Ireland and it is widely believed that anyone who kisses the Blarney Stone (different link) will be endowed with the “gift of gab (great eloquence or skill at flattery).”
The criteria for the Blarney Stone award is simple, “Thank those who have had an impact on my life before it’s too late to express the gratitude that I have for them.” I cannot guarantee that the recipient will become eloquent or a great speaker but the fact of the matter is that it was the eloquence of their actions that has spoken volumes to me in my life. We always intend to tell those important people in our lives what they have meant to us but more often than not, we never get the chance to say to our friends and family members what we truly feel in our hearts until it is too late.
I want to thank so many of you who have written to me or posted comments about my adoption search. It was a massive undertaking but also a journey that taught me so much about myself as a person and the world around me.
I started out looking for medical information. What I found was so much more and like so many relationships that every one of us has on a daily basis with our own family members; there are hills and valleys that we all must go through. The good times outweigh the bad times but life does bring its fair share of adversity.
And like all things in life, the people I have found also have a choice. There are some birth family members who chose not to be a part of my life. I understand their choices and I respect them. Genetically, we are connected and sometimes that is enough.
It was an amazing Thursday night. The grass had been freshly cut and the aroma wafted throughout the infield. A cool breeze was blowing in from left field and as the game went into the latter innings, we were locked in an early season battle that eventually went our way. It was the perfect way to end a magnificent May evening.
When the game was over, I was sitting on the bench laughing and joking with my teammates while I collected my gear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stephanie drive up to the field and park her car. It wasn’t uncommon for Stephanie to come out to the ball field to watch my team play, but since we had purchased a house an hour away, Stephanie rarely made any of the weeknight games; especially 6:00pm games.
Since I was a little concerned that something bad might have happened, I started walking in her direction. When she got out of her car and shut the door, I called out to her, “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
Back in April, I opened my mailbox to find a large padded envelope. I went inside my house, opened the package and found an advanced copy of PJ Pacifico’s album Outlet. I popped the Compact Disc into my car stereo and discovered PJ continues to pleasantly amaze me with his music. Outlet is PJ Pacifico’s best album to date!
PJ Pacifico has delivered another exquisitely crafted lyrical album. On his first two albums, PJ has always shown his ability to use conversational colloquialism in his songs but on Outlet, PJ has interwoven the stylistically simple with the seductively intricate illustrations of an American poet. On “Home With Me”, PJ compassionately sings “Love somebody/ Set them free/ Never meant that much to me/ When you’re the lonely soul/ Being let go/ It sounds more like a mockery/ It’s the summary/ Of the symphony/ Playing the song of subtlety/ Like the seven silent seconds/ After I asked you quietly/ Will you come home with me?” against the backdrop of his sweetly whispering acoustic guitar as he shares the story of his ten year relationship with his wife. PJ uses his lyrics on Outlet to weave a tapestry of heart, soul and compassion that allows the listener to connect with these songs through common themes that are consistent with those in our own lives. Outlet is proof that true artists continue to perfect their craft. Throughout Outlet, PJ has woven these wonderful poetic expressions into his writing that reinforce his arrival as one of America’s next great lyricists.
I woke up early the next morning. I was exhausted. It had been a long weekend and the drive back from Connecticut was slower than usual due to the traffic. But most of all, I think I was just worn out from three and a half years of searching. Realizing that I had spent all that time and energy for naught had finally caught up with me.
I quietly slipped out of the house while Stephanie was still asleep and headed for the office. I stopped by the local Dunkin’ Donuts for an extra large cup of coffee on my way into work. And finally, I sat down at my desk at 7:15am and basked for an hour or so in the silence as I worked on the agency budget. I had a week to finalize it before presenting it to my Board of Directors but mostly, I just needed something else to do in order clear my head.
The phone rang around 8:30am and since no one else had arrived yet, I picked up the receiver. After making the usual company greeting, Stephanie said, “Good morning, Sweetie, how are you today?”
“Libraries!” I randomly shouted while sitting on the couch watching television.
“What?” Stephanie asked as I jumped up, raced into the guest room and grabbed the Oak Tag that I had stuffed into the closet.
“Libraries!” I said as I came back into the living room and put the Oak Tag on the coffee table. “It’s in a Library!”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” she said as she leaned over my shoulder and stared at the chart I had made. “What’s in the library?”
“I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it…” I said to myself over and over again as my finger darted from fact to fact on my graph. How could I have missed it?! The answer was simple and it had been staring me in the face for years! It had all came full circle! I had to go back to where I started; the libraries!
“What? What did you find?”
“The answer is hidden in a library somewhere in New York! If I want to find my birth mother, I just have to find the right one!” I exclaimed.
After my dealings with Lenox Hill Hospital and one unscrupulous character, the world around me had grown infinitely bigger. My quest to sort out the earliest details of my own life had become tirelessly futile. The world was poised to stop me from accessing the information I had yearned to uncover. Face it; adoption is big business. The forces that be had a vested fiduciary responsibility to protect their business dealings. And those contracts came with a promise of life long anonymity.
I, on the other hand, had been pushed around about as far as I was going to let them push me around. A month after “A.B.” abruptly hung up the phone; I joined a group called the Adoption Connection. Susan Darke (the founder) was an extremely resourceful individual. I wrote a detailed letter to her that spelled out the entire process I had undertaken and after reviewing my file, we had a long conversation about the path I was on. She promised to help me in any way possible but as we spoke about the road that lay ahead, she made it abundantly clear that New York had the toughest laws in the country. She also told me that she had done very little to search or to assist anyone conducting a search in New York. And for that reason alone, she was skeptical as to how to proceed without the aid of a private investigator.