By good, or bad, fortune, or perhaps even the luck of the Irish, I happened to be in a pub in Cashel, County Tipperary when news of the death of Sir Terry Wogan came through.
Many people of my age grew up with Wogan. Our mums had him on the radio in the morning, and then he became a virtual ever-present on the telly with his chat show.
As a youngster I never understood what people saw in him. Him 'singing' The Floral Dance was embarrassing, and meant one less opportunity for The Stranglers to appear on Top of the Pops.
I found his interviews with celebrities boring (George Best excepted) and his insistence on asking actresses about taking their clothes off (all in the interest of art obviously) a bit cringe worthy.
It was of course when I became my mum's age (you know what I mean) that I began to appreciate Terry properly. By then he was back on his Radio 2 morning slot, I had long ago given up Radio 1, and I now realised that Wogan was genuinely funny. According to the obituaries he never rehearsed, and turned up two minutes before going on air. Natural talent with a bit of added Oirish blarney I guess.
As an Englishman in pubs in Limerick (Terry's home town), Shannon and Tipperary this week it was interesting to hear the reaction to Wogan's death from his fellow countrymen/women after a few pints of the black stuff. There was a lot of criticism of his decision to give up Irish citizenship so he could officially accept a knighthood but this was countered by the praise for him from those Irishmen who had been in England at the height of the IRA bombing campaign. As one retired Irish builder said to me, "Terry Wogan made it okay to be Irish in England at a time when a lot of people thought it was not."
So good bye Terry Wogan, or Terry Wig-on as my Dublin friend Jim always insisted on calling him. Even on that I was wrong. I knew Terry was Irish, but I never thought he wore an Irish*. This week's excellent Telegraph obituary confirmed he did - 5 of them apparently!
*Irish jig - wig
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