Took my Mom back to Cork in "61. Her Dad was about 85 & wee bit shrunken from arthritis I guess. Handlebar mustache and easily offended. I refused a cup of tea saying"No thankyou." Never heard the end of it for a week. So I learned to fake it.

Took my Mom, Aunt and himself for ride and lunch in Dunmanway. The waitress was stunning-with beautiful red hair down to her backside. She was about 18. At one point she had her back turned to Grandpa & he ran his hand down the flowing hair-resting for a beat or two on her derriere. (Or Derry Air since we're in Ireland!) She turned and gave him a huge smile as he crooned "Lovely-just lovely."
The 3 females apologized. The maiden said:"happens all the time--but he's the oldest."

If that happened today the man would be in the slammer. He sang all the way home. That's my John Triggs story.

My Dad's Father was a stern fellow from the North of Ireland. I know only that he stopped bidding Good Day to a former friend when the friend married a Protestant! I was shocked when my Dad told me that story-Dad said,"Mick, I guess he was a bigot." Got that right.

Love the song "Emmigrant Eyes" especially by Danny Doyle.
"When I look in my Grandfather's Emmigrant Eyes-I see starting with nothing And working hard all of his life."