Our little town was a hive of activity this November morning. Sure it was cold, it was wet and a morning to stay in bed, but the bills won’t pay themselves, so up you get. There’s a new shop being prepared for opening, the lads were putting up the Christmas lights, rubbish bins were being collected, deliveries being made to the shops and businesses along the street. The school playgrounds resonate with the happy sound of children at play, their bright young minds preparing for the day ahead. All in all, a happy scene, played out in villages, towns and cities right across the country.
It’s mornings like this that make me proud of our country, proud to be Irish. Ireland is a wonderful country to live in, to raise children and to make your home. Sure, it rains a lot and we don’t get the long sunny days that they get in Spain and Portugal for instance, but that wouldn’t bother me one little bit.
Once, back in the 1980’s, I “emigrated”. I’ve put that in inverted comments, because my emigration days were short lived.
On a Saturday evening, I boarded the CIE coach from Gladstone St, Clonmel, bound for London, England, with a friend. We arrived at Victoria Station in London the following morning and to cut a long story short, I lasted a week, as it just wasn’t for me. You see, I’m a home bird, this is my place and I have no desire to go anywhere else.
If I was asked to describe my ultimate nightmare, it would be to find myself far away, in a strange country and finding myself stuck there. Now, there are countries that I would love to visit, but the operative word is visit, because I’m coming home. Some years ago, we were going to Omsk in Russia and I thought I would have a nervous breakdown at the thought of it. It’s just not in my make up to go too far from Ireland, because it’s my home. I like it here, my family and friends are here and it’s a great place, despite all its many faults.
Sgt Maurice McCabe loves his country too. As a decent member of society and as an esteemed member of An Gárda Siochána (our police force), he noticed wrongdoings and decided to do something about it. The citizens of Ireland are proud of Sgt McCabe and we owe him a huge debt of thanks. However, not everybody is all that thankful. Some people actually tried to destroy the man in the most despicable way possible. Recent events and revelations show just how dangerous this country can be and the depths that these people are prepared to sink to.
Ireland has been through the mill in recent years. Our international reputation has taken somewhat of a battering. We lost our financial sovereignty and we lost some of our best young people to the affore mentioned emigration. Even today, most major decisions have to be given the thumbs up by our European overlords. We have the potential catastrophic impact from the upcoming Brexit. As I type this piece, we have more turmoil, this time the great and the good try to outmanoeuvre each other.
Somebody is telling lies, or at the very least, being economical with the truth. To me, it seems like they were found out, they tripped up and were caught, pure and simple. They bought as much time as they could, to find a way out of it all, with the least amount of damage. Rest assured though, they will do anything to protect themselves and then, they will find a way to sneak away, with their gilt edged pensions, at the same time, being handsomely paid for their malfeasance.
Watching the various television programmes and reading the newspapers, I wonder how Sgt McCabe feels. Does he feel vindicated? I wonder would he do the right thing again, if he had his time to live over. If another person saw similar wrong doings, would they speak up? Would any of us speak up?
As I stated at the outset, I absolutely love living in Ireland and could never live anywhere else. I take pride in the country and I place the responsibility of running the country in the hands of certain people. It is a huge responsibility that should not be taken lightly and it is an honour that should be cherished.
It’s a pity that those people haven’t got the same pride that I have, or an ounce of the courage that Sgt McCabe has. They will move on, tomorrow it will be another day with another headline. Very soon, they can remove their snouts from that trough and hop on board the gravy train.
The Unknown Bike Rider 