I should put on my tape.
The Clancy Brothers are responsible for my affection for Irish music, in all its sentimental, bloodthirsty, drunken glory. Once upon a time, I went with my parents (I was eight) to see the Clancy Brothers at a hockey rink in Canton, N.Y. I already loved them because of the very record of which I have a very well-worn tape. Tommy Makem slipped on the way to the makeshift stage and cracked his head on the ice. There were worries that he would have to be rushed to the hospital, but instead he hauled himself up, and the concert was wonderful. It is an important childhood memory.
Stupid death.