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272 pages, Paperback
Published October 15, 2024
What a name, what an act: the Blue Grasshopper Dirt Band.
Six drunk musicians, plus a hairless boy singer, no older than fourteen, who they introduced as the Cue-Ball Kid. The Cue-Ball Kid appeared to be missing an eye. He clutched a corncob pipe in one hand and sang angry scat versions of primitive folk pieces. And now Coughlin became aware of the chairs being moved to clear space for a dance. Stubb protested, but it was no use by this point, nobody could hear him. The Blue Grasshopper Dirt Band were in unruly full spate, tearing into an Irish jig that Coughlin dimly recalled from his youth. And he rose from his chair to see that the whole room was in motion: the men swinging their wives; lone farmers stamping their boots; children turning circles in order to make themselves dizzy. He thought that maybe a fight had broken out, too, where the dancing was at its most intense. But in craning his neck for a better view he spotted more shady business away in the back rows..