O’Malleys On the Loose

My cousin Liam had his birthday last night. O’Malleys from all around descended onto the city, to celebrate. Liam’s wife Lydia organized the whole night, and did an incredible job. I’m still kind of all verklempt about the whole thing. I love my family. I had moments when I looked around the bar, and saw cousins sitting and blabbing with each other, my uncles and dad all sitting together talking, friends of the family talking with multiple O’Malley cousins, my brother, my sisters, my parents … just the whole O’Malley THING … and think: God. This is truly fantastic. To me, there is pretty much nothing more important than my family. I can’t think of one thing that would win out. Ever.

Babies have been born since last we all saw one another. Seamus … Henry … there are babies out there who I STILL have not met. Fiona comes to mind. And so everyone had digital cameras or little iPod thingies … so we could all revel in the new O’Malley babies. And we all talked about how this baby has THAT mouth, that baby has THIS chin … you know. Family stuff. It’s all about the baby-worship.

Photo albums were passed around, filled with old snapshots of Liam, and his siblings when they were kids … late 1960s photos, early 70s photos … photos with the white border to them, some color photos, mostly black and white. There is this sort of infamous picture of my cousin Liam, my cousin Mike (they’re brothers), and me, all sitting on the couch. I am a baby, I must be 6 or 7 months?? And so Liam is 3 and Mike is 2. It is SUCH A FUNNY PICTURE … basically because none of us have changed AT ALL. I think the 3 of us now, as adults, should re-create that picture, because it’s classic. I am in a onesie, I am smiling goofily at the camera (is that a real smile? Or is it just gas? Hard to tell). I am a small lima bean shaped creature, I cannot move, but I am a happy baby. Mike looks like he is being FORCED to sit still for the picture, kind of pouting and scowling at the camera, and he’s sitting with his knee up, and you can blatantly see the cuts on his knee. And Liam, with the sweet face, sits there, smiling openly at the camera. The contrast between Mike and Liam is hilarious. Meanwhile, I lie propped up between them, oblivious.

I got to catch up with my cousin Kerry, my cousin Tim, my cousin Marianne … her husband … Pretty much everybody is talking about the Patriots now. Not QUITE as much as we talked about the Red Sox, but still. The Patriots are on everyone’s minds.

And then came the MANIA of karaoke. We rented a room at the weirdest place on the planet, called Orange Valve. (Highly recommend it to New Yorkers who love karaoke by the way. The rooms you can rent are really comfortable, you can totally settle in there. It was a blast.) It was our entire clan, in this weirdly lit cheesy room, with mirrors, and strange little glowing space heaters, and low plushy couches … but it was filled with my FAMILY. So incongruous, and funny. Like … my uncles, aunts, my parents … a multi-generational group clustered in what looked like a cheese-ball decadent Miami Vice set. The drinks were INSANELY expensive, and also so watered down as to be irritating. I ordered a scotch and soda from the terrifying Japanese female bartender, and I watched how little scotch she put in the glass. Usually they try to be a bit more subtle about it, but this bartender did not care. It was a glass of soda, with a teensy weensy splash of scotch. The next time I came up for a drink, I ordered a straight scotch, and she SO did not want to give it to me!! She gave me this look, like: Hmm. I can’t get out of this one …

But still, it’s okay. It’s all good. Terrifying-Japanese-bartender-lady was a part of the night. Part of the comedy of the night. (And yes. That is how we all referred to her. “So have you had a run-in yet with terrifying-Japanese-bartender-lady?” “No, man … no. Have you?”)

The karaoke began. Liam is basically a rock star. The guy knows every song ever written. My sister Jean is pretty much on the same level. They know all the lyrics, they don’t need to read the words …

My parents had never been to a karaoke place, and were crying with laughter. Just CRYING. Actually, we all were. The VIDEOS they played, too, behind the lyrics to all the songs … I can barely describe how ridiculous they were. It was a loop of footage, completely random. A boat going through the waves, shots of Venice, strange shots of what looked like Octoberfest, guys in lederhosen, random shots of Russian churches, a random shot of an Amish farmer on his horse and buggy (I’m not kidding … and yet that image is on the screen while my cousin Tim and my sisters are doing a KICK-ASS version of “Superstitious” … like … what? Amish? Superstitious?) My parents were like: where on earth ARE WE RIGHT NOW?

Liam and I pretty much brought down the house with our rocking version of “Lithium”. Yeah, baby. Lithium. I’m so happy. Cause today I found my friends. They’re in my head.

Liam and I also kicked some ass with “Baby You’re a Rich Man”. First of all, I had no idea I knew all the words to that song. “How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people??” I know every stinkin’ word. But performing it is another ballgame: You feel distinctly insane during the performance. Why? Because during the verses, you must sing in a tiny delicate falsetto. And then, for the chorus, you must SCREAM. So you must embrace a split personality for that particular song. I think Liam and I did so admirably.

My sisters did “Fame”. (The video-screen informed us that this song was performed by “OREME CARA”. heh heh heh) Jean, during the musical interlude, stepped out with the microphone and said, point-blank, to all of us, speaking dead seriously: “You got big dreams. You want FAME. Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying. In sweat.” Those of you who know the reference will know that she said it word for word. Genius. I thought Mike was gonna piss his pants.

Also, Mike and Liam, sitting on the couch during the “Fame” rendition took it upon themselves to shout out the echo “FAME” whenever appropriate, as occurs in the real song.

“Fame! (Fame!) I’m gonna live forever …”

Etc. So at the beginning their shouts of “FAME” were filled with energy, hysteria, greed. They were right ON. But who knew how many echoes there really were in that song?? By the end, their shouts of “FAME” were exhausted. They could barely get them out anymore. It was a chore.

At one point, my cousin Mike had gotten all sucked into watching the ridiculous “videos” … and he leaned across his couch to say to my parents and myself, “You know … watching these videos makes me not want to travel.”

My sister Siobhan performed the SHIT out of “Oops I did it again”. Excellent work, Siobhan. Excellent.

Liam just kept singing, strolling around in his suit, engaging all of us, like a lounge singer on the loose. It was AWESOME. He knows every song ever written.

I was out until 2:30 in the morning. And for the first time in … uhm … FIVE YEARS … I overslept. I woke up at noon. This is positively unheard of. But I figured I’m entitled.

A great great night. I felt a positive GLOW, standing there, surrounded by my crazy beautiful loving family.

Oh, and here’s some humor:

Multiple times over the evening I was introduced to a friend of Liam’s, or a friend of Lydia’s, or a friend of my cousin Mike’s.

Invariably, this friend would ask me: “So are you one of the cousins?”

heh heh heh I’m sure it happened to all of the other cousins, too. Just put us all in a huge labeled lump: “the cousins”. That’s all you need to do. I would say, “Yes. I am one of the cousins”, and the friend would nod, accepting it. I just find that so funny.

Happy birthday, Liam. Great job with the planning, Lydia. Beautiful night. Beautiful. There’s never enough time to revel in my family … but still. Last night was a feast for the soul and heart. Loved looking around, in the crowded bar where we all gathered at first, and seeing my entire family scattered throughout. Makes me feel like “God’s in His heaven, all’s right with world”.