The day before my first of two St. Patrick’s days spent in Dublin, my friend Allison, whom I was visiting, and I decided to go Bono-stalking, as we called it. Who knew it would turn out so well? This happened at the height of my U2 obsession, which has waned greatly over the course of subsequent years and less-than-stellar albums. (Don’t get me wrong — I still have a place in my heart for late-’80s, ’90s and early-aughts U2… but Bono needs some serious vocal therapy and should try to remember how to write a decent lyric. City of Blinding Lights is the lone exception to the post-2000 rule of U2′s general mediocrity.)
My favorite part of our photo with Bono is that if you cover the left side of his face as you’re looking at it, he appears totally with it; if you cover the right, however, he looks like he’s had a few. And why not? It was the day before St. Patrick’s day, after all, plus they were behind on their forthcoming album.
I dug out my travel journal from this trip to see if I could pull any good quotes from it about this encounter, but it’s more or less a very thorough chronicling of my utter bewilderment at meeting Bono, the Edge and Adam Clayton. I do remember that, at the pub Allison and I hit up for a celebratory pint afterwards, I pulled exact change out of my pocket — always a sign of a good day.