![]() And before his untimely death in 1986 at just 36 years of age, he had surely led them to greatness. Lynott was actually born in England, but grew up in Dublin with his grandparents to eventually become one of the city’s favorite sons as Thin Lizzy’s unequivocal leader. No, the huge bronze sculpture we were suddenly staring up at was that of Phil Lynott, founder, principal songwriter, lead vocalist and bassist for the enduring hard rock powerhouse, Thin Lizzy. Nor Shane MacGowan of The Pogues, Dolores O’Riordan of the Cranberries, blues legend Rory Gallagher, Sinead O’Connor, or even Enya, Ireland’s best-selling solo artist ever (it’s true). Not Bono, as might be your first guess, and not Van Morrison (yes, he’s Irish). Disgruntled and disillusioned, the 4 of us – me and my fellow travelers Duck and Cek as well as our one faux-European attendee Kap – drifted onto the cobblestone of Harry Street in Dublin city center, just off more famous Grafton Street, and quickly found two most welcome markers: first, an open pub directly across the street (eternal thanks, Bruxelles, you didn’t let a bunch of early-morning ugly-Americans down) and second, an unexpected statue of a beloved Irish rock musician. Only McDaids, the pub we’d earmarked to christen the outing, was inexplicably closed somehow it hadn’t occurred to us that even in Ireland pubs might not be pouring at 8:00am. We’d flown all night, the red-eye from New York to our first-ever international boys trip destination in Dublin, and we weren’t going to be denied, or delayed, our first authentic pint of local Guinness.
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