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If they had walked into a bar, Kevin, Dermot, and Joe would have been no more than a trio in the long tradition of Irish jokes.

But instead, they are part of the memorable fictional world of Conor McPherson’s 2002 play Port Authority, now at the Atlantic Theater Company until June 22.

In this ferry dock waiting room (erroneously referred to as bus station by many critics, I guess because New York’s Port Authority is a bus terminal. But that’s the jetty of Dublin harbor on the Playbill cover !), each is miles away in his own thoughts, which they give voice to as we all listen in.

It is a tour de force of monologue writing across three stages of man: the senior (Jim Norton), the middle aged (Brian D’Arcy), and the twentysomething (John Gallagher). They speak of life from the perspective of their age, and of love, which knows no such boundary.

With the barest of sets and the absence of any action, it is the sheer power of language and tale-spinning that pulls you in. That primacy of the spoken word reminded me of HBO’s In Treatment, where another Irishman, Gabriel Byrne, commanded our attention.

All three actors are superb, but Jim Norton is the first among equals. He embodies his Elder Everyman with amazing grace and the strength of deep experience, both as an actor and a man.

A line in Terry Teachout’s rave review of the play surprised me. He described it as a “series of interwoven monologues by three unhappy Irishmen.”

Unhappy Irishman. It never occurred to me that these men were unhappy. Their tales are so beautifully articulated-—surely you can’t be really unhappy if there is such beauty in your speech.

Okay, that may not be entirely true. But there is something about the Celtic soul that doesn’t think in happy/unhappy terms.

I saw Martin Sheen the other night on The Graham Norton Show. Graham was asking him what was the secret to having such a long and happy marriage. And Sheen said, it’s not really about happiness. What makes a loving marriage work is if your partner helps you to experience joy. It’s a subtle, important distinction.

Each of our waiting-room Irishmen speaks of specific moments of joy within their tales. There is also deep disappointment all around, and they all wish many things were different.

But they are Irish. Their wit and wisdom and whisky will sustain them, until the final Ferryman comes to take them across the river.