Lemmy In Ireland
Motorhead would sometimes begin their tours in Dublin and would only be there for a night or two. I realized, in time, that all of them thought the Irish were “less than”. They had a bit of an English prejudice. Having been at home for months in between tours, they would warm up for the rest of the tour in Dublin.
Once, Mickey, stiff from lack of playing during their break from the road, asked if I’d give him a back rub to help loosen him up. Spread out on the floor of the green room with me straddling his back, he kept saying “more, more intense, don’t be afraid to go deep!” Someone came in during this impromptu massage and immediately left again thinking it was a sexual episode he’d walked in on! No, nothing of the sort! Later after the show Mickey said I had overdone it and he could hardly move his arms. I was only following instructions!!
I’d be in Dublin for at least a week at a time. When they came into town I would spend those days with them. I loved staying at a hostel in Dublin known as Kinlay House next to Christ Church, and on the edge of Temple Bar a historic district of Dublin, revitalized and now teeming with a vibrant nightlife. Even if I had more money I might have chosen to stay at the hostel. In the 1700’s the building had been a workhouse for boys. I loved the old wooden staircases that wound up from reception, though dragging my suitcase up the flights was always arduous. It was part of my Dublin experience. I loved waking up to the bells that rang from Christ Church every hour on the hour right across Fishamble Street, looking over the park behind the church where the Viking settlement had been. I’d always ask to be placed next to those windows. I feel sure I had been one of those Vikings in a past life, and that could probably account for my love of Dublin. According to my psychic and friend Susan, I’d have several happy lives in Dublin and was a tailor on Wicklow Street, explaining my deep love of Dublin.
The first time I saw Lemmy in Dublin they were playing at Vicar Street in the Liberties. I went to the bar in the afternoon to connect with Lemmy.
He strode into the bar looking especially dapper in his white custom made cowboy boots of his own design, his new fashion obsession now that the iconic white ankle boots were no longer available. As he walked by me he did a double take when he noticed me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised to see me.
“Lemmy…Ireland? Why wouldn’t I be here?” I queried, hands outstretched to imply that “it’s obvious isn’t it?”
He’d asked me years before why I liked Ireland so much, but then answered his own question with” Right, you’re a die hard romantic! Of course you’d love Ireland”
Vicar Street is a fairly small and intimate venue. It now has an amazing mural outside of depicting musicians, politicians, film stars, historic figures in history, a strange array of people. It’s pretty amazing! Check it out if ever you’re in Dublin!
Whilst sitting with Lemmy as he was occupied with the slot machine, one of his passions while on tour. (In later years he brought his own German slot machine with him everywhere on tour. I think that’s what he was doing when he died.) As I sat quietly by, sipping a drink, a young Irish girl joined me. She was Jacquiline, a beautiful and vibrant force of nature who became a close friend in the years after that meeting. Her boyfriend Grant, a drummer, (and an “arsehole” according to Jacquiline), had sent her over to occupy me so he could meet Lemmy. It didn’t work out that way though. She met Lemmy but he didn’t! I took a picture of her with Lemmy (the old fashioned kind on paper!) and sent to her, which began a lifelong friendship between Jacquline and I.
When Motorhead played at the Olympia Theatre on Dame Street on Halloween Jacquiline joined me in Phil’s room at the posh Gresham Hotel on O’Connell Street, to get dressed for the evening. As we walked through the lobby we were delighted when we heard the doorman yell out “Watch your necks, lads!” I suppose we were a sight to see, Jacquiline wearing a distressed ball gown and made up with wild hair and makeup, and me in a black corset and long swishy silk skirt that I’d gotten in Dublin, looking like a demure dominatrix (my costume wasn’t all that outrageous, but very flattering to my figure!) with my little riding crop in my boot.
The Olympia Theatre had demanded no smoking in the dressing rooms which triggered a defiant response from the band. They smoked incessantly and deliberately and we sat in clouds of smoke! Lemmy and Phil were in devilish moods that night and asked me to take in Mickeys shorts so he’d think he had gained weight. It didn’t work though even though I made them a good 4 inches smaller in the waist, he didn’t even notice. They also asked me to call one of the members of Saxon, the band opening for them. I had one of their wives or girlfriends on the line and I told her that Motorhead had some concerns about the color of socks the musicians in Saxon might wear onstage. She took it seriously and said she would let them know. I wonder when it hit her that it was a prank call?
Another time we when we were all in Dublin we went out to the famous Temple Bar Pub in Temple Bar. Tim, one of the crew wasn’t feeling well. They were staying at the Gresham and he wanted to call it a night but didn’t know where it was or even the which hotel it was. I offered to walk him back to the hotel because I wasn’t up to a late night out either. Asking if he’d mind if I crashed in his room so I didn’t have to walk all the way back across town to Kinlay House, he said of course, but wanted to be sure I knew that he was Catholic so he wasn’t interested in sex! I thought that was really funny, his assumption that I might want to have sex with him! Of course, I said no, I hardly knew Tim, I just didn’t want to wander the streets of Dublin alone at such a late hour, I only wanted to sleep.
One of my favorite moments with Lemmy, ever, was standing on Dame Street in Dublin, just the two of us, waiting for the car to take us to an after party. We were standing under the sculpture known as the Crann an Oir , which means the “Tree of Gold, drinking homemade mead out of a Mateus bottle given to Lemmy by a fan earlier that evening. It was rare to be outside a venue with him, and alone, as well. That made it especially memorable. We were not waiting long, maybe 15 minutes, just sharing the mead with little conversation, but being on Dame Street and with Lemmy was magical to me. The car soon came and drove us up Dame Street past Kinlay House where I was staying, which I pointed out to Lemmy, and onto Lord Edwards Street We were now passing Christ Church, built at the Viking settlement in Dublin by the Viking king Sitric Silkbeard. I mentioned the Viking relics found at this historic site. Lemmy, his usual cynical self, told a story of a relic being found, thought to be an ancient gold coin, and found to be a fake, a coke bottle cap, in actuality. The memory just came back to me as I was writing this, that early on, when I had first found Lemmy again, but I was still married, I was alone with Lemmy and noticed that he was wearing the same earring that my husband wore. I thought this was amazing and somehow meaningful but he immediately rejected the idea, skeptical as he was of all things of an esoteric nature, and never wanting to ascribe meaning to anything of the sort. My husband was born only three days before Lemmy and they had many similarities. Brian, too, wears rings like Lemmy though his are mostly turquoise of a Native American design.
When they played at the Ambassador the premiered “Whorehouse Blues”. Mickey and Phil played acoustic guitars while Lemmy played the harmonica. I suggested that they sit on the stage for this rather than dragging out chairs. It looked better to me but I don’t think it was comfortable enough for them, though it was nice they considred my suggestion for debut of the song.