Reflections From Thrice Meeting Sinead O'Connor

About 10 years ago I started compilation of a most-loved "Big Song List." 

Of the 2,850 tunes saved to date, few artists enjoyed as many or more noted works as Sinead O'Connor, who sadly died earlier this month.

Reflecting on her passing and my personal journey with her catalog brought to mind three introductory encounters with the Irish singer. 

Like tens of millions of fellow fans, my first brush with O'Connor's powerful voice and iconic gaze arrived in early 1990. The new decade had just opened, and on a mid-winter weekend to attend a Rotary Teen Leadership Retreat held near the Marland Mansion in Ponca City, Okla. (hometown of 1960 Olympic gold medal wrestler Shelby Wilson), Sinead first appeared.

In my shared room for the weekend, MTV was the only decent channel for a 17-year-old, and on the night of our arrival "Nothing Compares 2 U" was in heavy rotation. And, oh, my God, it was captivating! (In those days we did not abbreviate OMG!)

Memorable was the visual alternation from pensive garden strolls to tight, tearful closeups of O'Connor's hypnotic eyes, which climactically spill over as the song crescendos, a scene later replicated twice my Margot Robbie, first in the title role of "I, TONYA" (reviewed here) then again as the lead "Barbie" -- but I think directors of Sinead's video took their cue from Glenn Close's final scene in 1988's "Dangerous Liaisons." 

The video inspired discussion among the impressionable teen attendees before and after the event's keynote speaker, prominent Oklahoma businessman Vince Orza, presented his remarks.  

The 1990s and early 2000s provided further opportunities to get acquainted with Sinead's work. I purchased a cassette of "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" and received "Universal Mother" at Christmas 1994. 

Between the acquisitions, the famous "Saturday Night Live" incident occurred, which I missed in real-time, later citing SNL skits of preceding and following weeks among my favorites. Not surprisingly, NBC.com is experiencing "technical issues" preventing clip access. 

By the early 2000s, my career started to gel in Atlanta, with The Tabernacle -- an historic downtown church restored as a concert hall in time for the 1996 Olympics -- emerging as a media relations client. When O'Connor performed for a packed house there in 2007, attending was a no-brainer, and she put on a fantastic show for which apparently few recall the exact setlist. 

After the intimate concert, dozens of fans including myself lined up in the parking lot, cautiously optimistic for an autograph or photo. 

When she eventually obliged, signing my concert ticket, I asked her to verify whether she once resided in Atlanta as heard around town. 

She had indeed, replying in her friendly and softspoken voice that she lived here with "her boy" (her youngest?) for a spell. In retrospect, it's possible her "boy" in this context was an agent who, years later, she referenced in her autobiography as a frequent guest of Atlanta's thriving strip club scene. 

Now, nearly 16 years later, I don't recall much more from the conversation except that she not only made, but also sustained for more than a minute, sincere and smiling eye contact for our entire chat, which was very powerful. She also had a firm handshake as she thanked me and moved on to the next fan with her black Sharpie pen on the ready.

I also came to respect what came next. Excited by the surroundings and eager to pose another question (and to attempt a second autograph, this time with my Sinead cassette liner notes), I stood in line again while she spoke with others, eventually asking what became my standard query of other celebrities: What's been your experience related to the Olympics?

Sinead politely paused with another fan, turned my direction and softly admonished me, "Now, please, I was able to answer your question earlier and now it is another person's turn (implying so let's not spoil it for them, while motioning to my already-signed ticket, as though to state, "sorry, only one to a customer"). 

Message received, I smiled back and sincerely thanked her again while making space for others to interact. And then she turned to board a bus and exited the scene. 

Over the years of sharing this story, it's set a high bar for other A-list conversations, also shaping how I respect other fans in those moments. 

Flash forward to October 2019, when a pair of Sinead concerts went on sale scheduled for March 22 and 23 at City Winery Atlanta the following year. Lucky me, I snapped up one front section seat for each evening ... at a bargain price of $105 each! Would this pair of events provide an option for long-awaited follow-up questions? 

Sadly, by March 12, 2020, the world shut down due to COVID-19, and both shows got rescheduled for June 2021 only to be indefinitely postponed again. Reading her autobiography "Rememberings" was small consolation -- on the last page she wrote, "I've decided to start school in autumn 2020 and go out on tour again (I hope) in the summer of 2021." Regretably, that never happened. 

Through the arc of these 1990-to-present experiences, O'Connor's religion shapeshifting resonated with me. Here's another person who grew up with questions about organized religion and tested the waters with several. 

Her book and archived interviews delve into her personal journeys with Catholicism, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, which she Tweeted, "This is the natural conclusion of any intelligent theologian's journey" according to news reports.

And in 2019, upon viewing Natalie Portman's role as a pop star with serious issues in "Vox Lux" I could not help wondering the extent to which O'Connor's roller coaster career impacted the writers and performers. 

Some did compare Portman's and Sinead's shaved heads back in the day and more recently. The former's fictional media interviews in the film definitely are reminiscent of the latter's real life media convos. When given the chance to one day speak with Portman, I'll be sure to ask. 

During summer of 2017, while traveling in New Jersey, reports of O'Connor's post from a Hackensack Travelodge gave pause. Which brings us to the now. 

My third time "meeting" O'Connor arrived these last few days since the BBC and other international news organizations announced her death. With each tribute post or report, such as NPR's summary of O'Connor's career, I started learning about fantastic recordings by Sinead that proved new to my ears or not heard in years. 

Here's are a few notes from by "Big Song List" favorites and/or the recent discoveries marked with an asterisk:

Troy, with perhaps my favorite of her lyrics:

"Oh, I love you. God, I love you. I'd kill a dragon for you. I'll die, but I will rise. And I will return: The Phoenix from the flame! I have learned, I will rise, and you'll see me return, being what I am. There is no other Troy for me to burn."

Heroine, with The Edge, for the film "The Messenger." Bring me into your arms again. 

Sacrifice, the Elton John classic reimagined.

Harbour, a personal favorite discovered in 2002 via Moby's "18" release. The saddest songs are played on the strings of my heart. 

*Never Get Old, with Enya reading Psalm 91:13. Sources state O'Connor wrote this at age 16. Thanks, Neda Ulaby.

You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart, her second collaboration with U2 members, this time with Bono, in the name of cinema. 

*Mother, with Roger Waters in Berlin. OMG!

Blood of Eden, with Peter Gabriel. 

Feel So Different, ... taught me the "Serenity Prayer" and a few other things. Started off with many friends and we spent a long time talking. I thought they meant every word they said, but like everyone else, they were stalling.

*Irish Ways and Irish Laws -- A fantastic discovery via "The Arsenio Hall Show" archive (her 15+ minute conversation with the host is one of the best celebrity interviews out there in TV Land)

Drink Before the War, with these contemplative lyrics ... admonishing an unnamed someone at the top of her lungs:

"And your parents paid you through, You got a nice big car - nothing bothers you. Somebody cut out our eyes, you refuse to see, ah, Somebody cut out your heart, you refuse to feel. And you live in a shell, you create your own hell. You live in the past and talk about war. And you dig your own grave, yeah, but its a life you can save, oh, So stop getting fussed, it's not gonna happen. And you'll cry, but you'll never fall, no, no, no. You're building a wall. Gotta break it down, start again."

The Emperor's New Clothes, which O'Connor referenced in the April 5, 2020, epilogue to her autobiography. Of Donald Trump she wrote, aptly frustrated, "None of the reporters ever ask him, 'Sir, what is wrong with you?' Negligence ... and it goes on and on. No matter what he does."

Last Day of Our Acquaintance, which, if the mood is right, I quote to fellow passengers after boarding and fastening my seatbelt on flights: "I know you don't love me anymore." At least once, the person next to me replied with the rest of that lyrical sentence, "You used to hold my hand when the plane took off." Then we laughed, until deplaning with, "I'll meet you later in someone's office." 

Scorn Not His Simplicity, by fellow Irish songwriter Phil Coulter. 

Tiny Grief Song, ... my grief, my grief, my grief, my grief, my grief. 

*Dagger Through the Heart, performed as requested by Dolly Parton.

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, ... for the bread of life is mine. 

You Do Something to Me, the Cole Porter standard she recorded for charity.

*V.I.P., one of her last songs, through which Sinead rhetorically asked fellow celebrities (specifically, Miley Cyrus and her peers, perhaps):

"To whom exactly are we giving hope, when we stand behind the velvet rope, or get our pictures taken with the pope, like some sick April fool's kind of joke?" 

On the day of Sinead's passing, one of my close friends quipped that he knew of no obvious O'Connor Olympic connection for a tribute by this five-ringed blogger. Inspired and challenged by his comment, I searched for and found two, the first of which tops this post. It's an image taken in the late 1980s at Dublin's popular Olympic Ballroom. 

The other regards Sinead's starstruck notes in her "Rememberings" chapter titled "The Greatest Love of All." This is my favorite section for the apex of joy it seemed to deliver, and it tethers to various memorial posts logged on this site in 2016. 

"The most incredible experience I ever had, apart from having children, was meeting Muhammad Ali," wrote O'Connor. "Not only did I meet him, but myself and my eldest son, Jake, escorted him to the Special Olympics in Dublin in 2003."

In her description of that Rome Olympian encounter she later wrote, "That guy is my biggest hero ever" (her quote to Jon Bon Jovi, who set up the Ali introduction and, indirectly, inspired the moment of conception of O'Connor's fourth son, Shane, whose full name includes the Olympic champion's nom du guerre). Through this chapter, O'Connor at once poignantly and accidentally sets the joyful antithesis of her son's later suicide. It's a happy chapter, though tough to read with that later context. Another cheerful and insightful version of her Ali encounter appears in this Equire article from that time in their lives. 

To wrap up this tribute post of appreciation, scroll down for an Irish all-star assemblage courtesy of "The Late Show with David Letterman" archive. 

Only Sinead could get away with laughing in Van Morrison's face. Brilliant!

Top photo from Dublin's Olympic Ballroom via The New York Times and Independent Newspapers Ireland/Getty Images. Jan Hooks/SNL photo via NBC. Ali photo via AP/Esquire/Getty Images. Ticket photo by Nicholas Wolaver. Tabernacle photo by Robb D. Cohen via AJC.com. "Rememberings" jacket designed by Mark Robinson w/photo by Herb Ritts via Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. "Vox Lux" image via IMDB.