Saturday Night, Wilmette, Hooley with Danahey on the Loose

Saturday night’s alright for fighting?

Hah! Like I’ve ever been in a fight on a Saturday night.

Also, it’s tough for me to picture Elton John fighting on a Saturday night – particularly back in 1973 when the song was released, given the shoes he wore.

I spent my most recent Saturday afternoon and night nonviolently, as it should be, enjoying the early fall and what it had to offer here in my corner of the world.

The first fun came with hanging out with Best Fest Buddy Tom and his grandkids at an Oktoberfest near where we all live. In East Dundee, which is named after a town in Scotland.

With a polka/oompah band playing on the stage, the kids played on inflatables and touched trucks set up for their amusement. I sat at a picnic table where an older couple next to me were speaking in German and enjoying the music.

 

Bratwurst. Pickled cabbage. Dairy Queen Pumpkin Pie Mini-Blizzard infused by a kid with Coke. It’s all good.

Soon it was time to head home to get ready to drive out to Wilmette for a screening of Kneecap at the 10th annual Irish American Movie Hooley.

I dressed for the occasion in a hoodie, ball cap, track pants and trainers – my AARP attempt to mimic the look of the rappers who star in the movie.

From where I live, it’s like going through an hour-long corn maze to get to Wilmette. How lost did people get before map apps?

 

At my first stop I bought a mixed fruit tart from St. Roger Abbey Organic French Gourmet Patisserie. The shop with the really long name is run by the nuns of the Fraternité Notre-Dame. Roger Abbey would be my new AOL name – if there were still AOL chats.

After securing the tart in the trunk of my car, I walked about the downtown of well-off Wilmette in search of a bite to eat. I strolled past a Thai place, a dance studio, a pizza parlor and a sports bar.

I thought about signing up for a dance class, but I was much older than the students there that night. So I settled for a meal at Koya, a fast casual Japanese restaurant staffed by fresh faced high school kids.

Full from my miso soup and Avocado Torch Bowl (tuna with spicy mayo, cucumber, avocado, fish egg, jalapeño, scallions, tempura mix, sweet soy sauce and brown rice), I walked about a bit.

I passed by a Latino mom and dad out for a walk with their young child. After feeding my online addiction killing time back in the car, I trekked over to the Wilmette Theatre for the flick.

 

Paddy Houlihan from Hibernian Media was out front under the marquee interviewing one of the movie’s stars, Jessica Reynolds. I overheard her say she is going to be starting soon on her role in an upcoming Netflix series, House of Guinness. Apparently, it’s not about a bar by that name near Milwaukee.

The Irish actor’s other credits include playing Malva Christie on the sixth season of Outlander, the time traveling romance set in Scotland and the colonies that would become the USA. She also had a small part in the Irish sitcom, Derry Girls.

Reynolds talked to the good-sized crowd after the screening of the bawdy, raucous Kneecap, a movie Ireland already has decided to put up for the 2025 Best International Feature category.

She talked about the challenges posed by the movie’s sex scenes and profanity as well as about the movie’s themes.

Set in West Belfast, Kneecap is loosely based about a real hip-hop trio, Kneecap, who rap in the Irish language. Like youth and young adults the world over, rap – pretty much invented by young Black people in the Bronx back in the day – has become their universal language.

The movie shows how Kneecap’s rapping played a role in the successful campaign in Northern Ireland that gave the Irish language official recognition by the Brits.

And Kneecap shows how language, words, stories and music can make a difference. That’s a damn romantic notion.

Past the movie, everybody was invited for a Kneecap nitecap at Pescadero.

I had one Old Fashioned made with Tullamore D.E.W. instead of bourbon.  By the way I won a bottle of Tullamore at a raffle after the screening.  I plan to pay it forward by giving it to a Charity. Or a Tom. Or a Rich.

Drink secured, of course I hit the appetizer table. I have a reputation to uphold.

I had some tasty skewers –  a couple made with chicken, a couple made with mahi-mahi – and some of a roasted Brussels sprouts/nuts/berries combo. That added a taste of Belgium and Hawaii to my night.

I talked for a short while with Rita Davern, whose documentary,  Stories I Didn’t Know, was going to be shown Sunday at the Hooley.

The St. Paul native told me her movie was a look at a family legend, that her Irish ancestors once owned Pike Island, which is at the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota rivers. It’s also sacred land to the Dakota people.

I couldn’t make the Sunday screening, and Davern told me I can probably find it on PBS.

Davern asked me what there was to do before the 3 p.m. showing of her movie. She was staying by Grant Park in downtown Chicago. I suggested she watch Bears fans gather before the noontime game with the Rams.
Davern excused herself from the table to find friends. Not wanting to do my all-to-frequent Irish goodbye, I offered my adieus to the Hooley hosts, then took off from the North Shore for my humble abode.

All those cultures to savor, all that culture, all on one Saturday night.

Sure. It probably ain’t exactly Jame Joyce’s Ulysses. Which isn’t a bad thing. Less CliffsNotes needed here. I hope.

Still, my Saturday night was another adventure for me, a smorgasbord, a hodgepodge reminding what a festive feast there is to be had not too far outside my door.

Mike Danahey is a relatively friendly freelance writer who lives in the Chicago area. If you are in need of his talents, feel free to leave him a message in the comments section for this post.