Larry Mexico City, watercolor by Kelly Eddington, 2026. Based on a screenshot from Street of Dreams.
Some thoughts for Larry Mullen, Jr. on his birthday
A few years ago, when I was still trying to become a serious writer, a visiting professor put this question to my grad school fiction class: “What lies at the heart of a compelling story?”
In high school, the correct answer would have been “conflict.” In college, I learned that every protagonist must want something, and the story’s arc would be revealed in how the character was changed by getting that thing – or, in most cases, by failing to get it.
But in this class of mature strivers, one gentleman raised his hand and said, “Sacrifice.”
I’ve been thinking about that ever since.
It’s possible that this student based his observation on the theory that the canon of western literature is merely Bible fan fiction. If so, most of our protagonists seem willing to sacrifice someone else rather than go the Christ-like route, even if, like Abraham, they are doing it out of faith. Reading about a completely selfless character would be tedious. Even Dickens’ Sydney Carton lived a life of dissipation before he volunteered his neck for the guillotine.
Speaking of necks, I was taken aback to read that our Birthday Boy, Larry, had gone ahead with surgery on his own neck when there was a chance, however slim, that the procedure could leave him paralyzed. Had he decided to quit his job as U2’s drummer, he could have skipped this risk altogether and lived a pleasant life. The fact that he offered this information in an almost casual way to Rolling Stone’s Brian Hiatt deserves more attention.
Was this an act of pure faith? Extraordinary courage? Is U2, and all that being part of U2 entails, more important than one member’s continuing ability to walk?
If there is anything sillier than the fates that befell the fictitious drummers of Spinal Tap (spontaneous combustion, bizarre gardening accident, choking on someone else’s vomit) it would have to be becoming paralyzed during an operation that, strictly speaking, you don’t need. But where U2 is concerned, rational thought seems to fall away, and we are always confronted with something bigger than ourselves.
I imagine Larry on the night before his surgery – in a liminal space that everyone should try to avoid if they can – thinking:
It’s not just that I want to keep playing. It’s that I want to keep playing with these three other people. It’s what I’ve been doing since childhood. It’s the way I’ve been able to bring some light and goodness into the world. And any one of them would put themselves in harm’s way for me.
Also, Bono has had three (3) emergency surgeries and has bounced back every time. No WAY am I gonna let him out-recover me!
Does anyone else remember how it felt to see Larry in the audience at the Sphere? I wasn’t there, I only saw it online, and I’ve never had the warm fuzzies for him. But I cried. Full-on sobbing, fumbling for the tissue box. It must have been an unsettling experience for him, but he was a class act as always. And it felt good to bury the ridiculous notion that he’d either left or been ousted from the band.
In the end, no sacrifice was necessary. Thankfully. Just Larry’s courage and determination. I look forward to the first leaked videos from Mexico City, because when he walks out onto the stage, the people WILL tear the roof off the sucker. The Greatest Show on Earth indeed!
None of this would fit neatly into a poem. Sorry, fans! I did try. Then I asked Fake Bono to help me tie up my thoughts with a quote, but he was too busy putting the finishing touches on his Halloween costume. So here is a quote from The Real Thing to keep us going while we wait for Carnaval de Luz to arrive:
“Faith is at the very heart of this story called U2 [...] Faith in each other. Faith in ourselves, faith in our community that got us here.”
And we all say “amen.” Happy birthday to the Founder and CEO!