In a Word . . . rhapsody

I had a Bohemian Rhapsody experience in a taxi recently.

The driver was into football. “Galway look strong this year,” I said. “Galway look strong this year,” he said. “But the Dubs have such depth,” I said. “The Dubs have great depth,” he said. “And you never know with Kerry,” I said. “You never know with Kerry,” he said.

Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango/Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me/Gallileo, Gallileo,Gallileo, Gallileo . . .

He was from a small town. "The small towns are in deep trouble all over the country," I said. "They are indeed. All over the country," he said. "Except for Westport, " I said. "Except for Westport," he said. "Then it's the same in the UK, Europe, the US," I said. "The same everywhere else," he said, in an edited edition.

In a Word . . . passport

---

Cannes 2018: Jessica Chastain announces all-female cast of spy movie

---

‘I believe punk rock helped the peace process’

---

I wanted to be out of there. Easy come easy go will you let me go/Bismillah! No we will not let you go – let him go/Bismillah! We will not let you go – let him go/ Bismillah! We will not let you go let me go/Will not let you go let me go (never)/Never let you go let me go/Never let me go ooo. . .

I went silent, wondering whether he was bored or tired and just did not want conversation. That would be highly unusual for a taximan as nothing thrills them more than boring a captive audience of one with expert opinions on everything under the sun.

"It's them big multiples I blame. You know Aldi, Lidl, Tescos. They killed off the small shops in the small towns," he said. Taken aback by this initiative, I agreed, and said "but you can't blame people for shopping in the multiples. They get great value".

And it was back to square one. “They do indeed. Great value. You can’t blame the people.”

You think you can stone me and spit in my eye/So you think you can love me and leave me to die/Oh baby, can't do this to me baby/Just gotta get out just gotta get right outta here . . .

We were almost at my place. “A sharp right, stay left, and a sharp right at the turn,” I said. “Sharp right, left, and right again,” he said.

By then I was beyond caring.

Nothing really matters/Anyone can see/Nothing really matters nothing really matters to me.

Rhapsody, from Latin rhapsodia, Greek rhapsoidia, for epic poem.

inaword@irishtimes.com