Today I carry with me the remnants of things from my childhood. Often, sometimes daily and other times weekly, we fought the French kids in the neighbourhood. As we got older, the fights escalated to gang wars involving weapons. My best friend was French. He was the fellow who taught me the fundamentals of guitar, and he made much of my later life possible. To this day I don't guite know how to feel about it all. But I do know this: I will never again fight someone based on his language, religion, race, etc. That friend taught me that it's the soul of a man that is important. This has nothing to do with Ireland specifically; I apologze for the thread drift.