Emmet's and Hennessey's, January 2016

Needing to use up a ferry reservation, I found myself in Boston again recently. "Where are you going?" "My usual haunts: churches and bars." Indeed, Boston is a haven, and heaven, for me - home of St. Paul's Catholic church, my church home away from home, and an Irish music scene that rivals Ireland (so I've been told). My original plan was first, on Saturday afternoon, to try Emmet's, which I'd heard was a fine session (and I wasn't disappointed), hit St. Paul's on Sunday morning for 9:30 Mass, head downtown for the Hennessey's session, then up to Reading to Bunratty's. Turns out the Bunratty's session was canceled due to football (football didn't seem to bother anyone at Hennessey's, however, as you may notice the musicians' eyes glued to the television over my shoulder as they played; multi-tasking at its finest), so I got an early start back to the Island. Good thing, too, since a bit of a snow squall was working itself up as I neared the bridge. By the time I got to Woods Hole, it was a full-fledged snow storm and the stand-by lot was a mess.  It was a great weekend, but my own warm bed never felt so good.




Emmet's is on lower Beacon Street, a stone's throw from the state house.


Hello, Emmet's.


Welcome!





It all starts innocently enough.


Pat, Emerald, Elias, and Bob.


Pat and Emerald.


Bob and Ricky.





Pat, Emerald, Elias.


Elias, Bob.


Elias.


Lovely Emmy.


From the phone.











Kathleen














Goodnight, Emmet's - it was fun.


Good morning, Cambridge. Mt. Auburn Street, St. Paul's bell tower.





And, hello Hennessy's (a home base of sorts), and my favorite "break-fast" after Mass: Irish stew and a Harpoon.





Wynter, Arnie, Colin, Tommy.


Tommy


Tommy and Mike


Conor


Rosanne, Tommy, Mike.