About Pints and Power

This didn’t begin as a book.

It began with a pint.

Not just any pint—but one poured just right. The kind that settles with a quiet sense of occasion. The kind that makes you stop talking for a second—not because of what it is, but because of what it evokes.

I’m not Irish by birth. But something about Ireland claimed a piece of me I didn’t know was waiting to be found. That something deepened when my daughter moved there—first for a year, then for good. And in following her, I found myself walking Irish streets, listening to Irish stories, and slowly learning that identity doesn’t always come from ancestry. Sometimes, it comes from recognition.

Pints and Power is the result of that unfolding—part memoir, part cultural reflection, and part love letter to a drink that has meant far more than taste. It’s about what Guinness carries: pride, memory, place, people. It’s about what rises in the space between the pour and the first sip.

I started paying attention to what happened when the pint arrived. The way people leaned in. The stories that came loose. The silences that felt like respect, not distance. I met people—bartenders, musicians, regulars, wanderers—each with a different reason for being there, and yet somehow sharing the same ritual.

This project exists because of them.

Because of the quiet revelations shared over foam.

Because of the sacred ordinary moments found in pubs that feel more like living rooms.

Because sometimes, to find yourself, all you need is the right pint in the right place.

So no—this isn’t just a book about Guinness.

It’s about the people who pour it, drink it, and carry its meaning forward.

It’s about memory, belonging, and connection.

It’s about what happens when you let the story settle, and listen.

Thanks for being here.

– Mike