STARVED

Here are a few “facts” about me. I go to work every day, I pay taxes (lots of them), I don’t drive around in a brand new car or van, with no visible means of making a living. I don’t fight, I don’t steal stuff, I respect people and I have a huge regard for animals. I pay to have my refuse collected, I live in a house and I do my best to contribute to society. I obey the law, I’m not known to the Gardaí, except for the few people in the force that I know in person. I pay my bills, I don’t get handouts and if I get my hands on something nice, it’s because I earned it. I don’t expect people to wait on me, I expect them to respect me and I ensure that I earn that respect.

My “culture” is all the above, I don’t have any spokespeople to represent me and there are no focus groups to help me when things go against me. I get up off my arse, I do my best and if today stinks, hopefully tomorrow will be better. There are no excuses made if I make a mistake, nobody to hold my hand. If I am wrong, I consider myself a man, meaning I will own up and take the rap. If I deserve a bollocking, so be it, I take it on the chin like a man and as I said, I don’t do excuses. I’m no saint, I have my skeletons and they can stay well locked in the closet, where they belong.

Seldom in my life have I been as annoyed as I was today. Our news feeds filled with the most sickening images I have ever seen. The phone lines were jammed with people, outraged with what had happened, all demanding action. There are images that are too disgusting to be broadcast, people witnessed harrowing scenes today and there is much more to this than people can imagine.

Innocent animals, starved to death, that’s right in 2017, defenceless ponies, mothers with their little foals by their sides, starved to death. The photographs are etched in my mind all day and it’s heartbreaking. All of this happened within a few miles of the biggest inland town in Ireland. There won’t be a Primetime Investigates programme made to highlight the dreadful deaths that these creatures endured.

It’s not the first time this has happened and guess what, it won’t be the last. It’s happening all over the country and people are becoming immune to it. Politicians will stand up in Dáil Éireann talking about how terrible it all is, but playing it safe in case they upset somebody. There are no votes to be gained by saying it as it is, or calling people out and making them solely accountable for their actions.

Our legislators will sit on their arses as this tragedy will unfold all around them. They will sit on their arses, afraid to enforce legislation, in case they upset certain groups. This lot feel marginalised, discriminated against, the rest of us don’t respect them and they feel unwanted. I could add a few more comments as well, to help out, just in case they are running out of excuses. However, I’d probably end up in trouble and it’s not worth the hassle. I would probably be called a racist or some other type of derogatory term, by some PC brigade person that has never met me. That’s why I put the facts about me in at the start.

A lady sent me a message last week, saying that she had tears in her eyes after reading my “Christmas Puppy” story. I explained that it was not the purpose of the story, to make people cry, it was to highlight something, as animals cannot speak for themselves.

I cried today as I saw the images in the newsroom. Those defenceless ponies and their little foals died in agony, unable to speak, with nobody to hear their cries.

I sincerely hope that if there is such a thing as a day of reckoning. I hope that the people responsible for what I witnessed today will be made to answer for their actions.

A Christmas Message.

Next week, we enter Christmas week or the “holiday season” as our friends across the Atlantic say, in case they offend somebody. I don’t particularly like Christmas to be honest and on Christmas day, I’ll head out on my bike for a training spin, just like any other day. We’ll miss dad this year and about 3.00pm, we will all say “it’s as far away now as it ever was” after dinner is finished. He said that every year, so in his honour, we will keep a small tradition alive.

I don’t mean to be a killjoy or a Grinch, lots of people enjoy it, so I hope you all have a great time and that Santa brings lots of wonderful presents. No, what I dislike about Christmas is the overindulgence, the corporate greed, the retail madness and the un-necessary pressure placed on parents. Times are bloody hard in Ireland for lots of people, Christmas doesn’t help. On the other hand, as one person said to me, you have 12 months to prepare for it, it doesn’t arrive unannounced. That’s easier said than done, when keeping a roof over your head is your primary concern and the ESB bill takes precedent over the newest Xbox or Play station.

Then, there is the Irish association with alcohol. I’m based in a radio station for a few weeks, so I’m a little more tuned into events and happenings than normal.

A local Garda Superintendant came into the station a few days ago. It’s a regular slot and he has lots of advice for listeners about crime prevention and so on. This week, he spoke about drink driving detection rates, which have skyrocketed by up to 200% and how the Gardaí will have to deal with alcohol related issues over the next few weeks.

I spoke with one of the staff members at the station and he had a good take on the drink driving detection. He wondered if it says a lot about our previous levels of detection, that it is only occurring now and he also wondered how people can still be so stupid to take the chance and to actually drive when over the limit.

I also listened in as our elected representatives debated in our national parliament, about tightening up on drink driving legislation. It’s simple “DON’T EVER DRINK AND DRIVE”.  Ironically, our leaders “work” a few meters from their own “members bar”. In over 35 years in the workplace, I have never seen a bar for employees, so the Dáil Bar is wrong, close the damn thing now.

A lady came into the studio yesterday, talking about the effect that alcohol can have on mental health, a “sobering” interview if ever there was one (please excuse the pun). She gave details of the various assistance that is available to people.

Now, there is nothing quite as enjoyable as going out with your friends, a family treat of tea out on a Sunday evening, maybe a glass of wine in front of the telly, as the winter weather hammers the window. It’s one of life’s little luxuries, enjoyed by millions of people all over the world.  So, what happens when normal, becomes less than normal?

I stopped drinking just over two years ago, after getting a bit of a fright from it. My drinking pattern went from the normal few pints with my friends to a little bit more (actually quite a bit more, if I am to be totally honest). Stopping drinking was easy, staying stopped was where I noticed a bit of a problem.

You see, Irish society and alcohol are firmly intertwined together. Take a look for a few moments and you will agree with me. Celebrations, good times, bad times, you name it, there is one common denominator. I was part of that train and I loved it, every bloody second of it. Play a really good gig, get the crowd rocking, and walk home feeling 12 feet tall, there is nothing like a few glasses of wine to relax. Complete the Ring of Kerry or the much harder Sean Kelly Tour, a few pints afterwards makes it all worthwhile. Worked hard all week and over the weekend, a few jars on a Monday night is just what the doctor ordered. Xbox night with the lads, all you will hear is the pop of another beer being opened over our headsets. That’s life, that’s good, that’s what it’s all about. Has anybody noticed anything in those last few sentences? I’ll tell you, everything is plural, no such thing as “a” glass or “a” pint; it’s all a “few”. That’s where the problem manifests itself.

Alcohol is insidious and that’s what makes it scary and something to be very careful with. It will tell you all is okay and that a few pints never hurt anybody. Then, when you decide that you wish to take a break from it, it doesn’t like to let go or allow a clean break. That’s where it caught me out, as I found that it was much more involved in my life than was healthy and that I was comfortable with. Making the break was like a very messy divorce, as my insidious bed mate played hard. To this day, more than 2 years later, it still scares me and I would be very reticent about allowing it into my life again.

I can only pity a person that is in the hard grip of alcohol or worse drugs. If it was that hard for me, what must it be like to face the horrors of addiction as the person inside screams for help and the monster consumes their lives and every fabric of their existence. As onlookers, all we see is the monster and that monster will drive the person inside to any lengths to keep it happy and satisfy its cravings.

There are people getting ready at this very moment, 2.30pm on a Saturday afternoon, to head out on the town tonight. Some will enjoy a few drinks; they will have fun and will look back on tonight as the best night out they ever had. On the other hand, some will have too much. The harsh reality is that there will be incidents all over Ireland this weekend and as we head into Christmas week. People will get involved in trouble, people will get caught drink driving, and A&E units will be over-run with the fall out. The Gardaí will stand at the coalface, picking up the pieces as lives and livelihoods are destroyed.

That’s the reality of it lads, I haven’t said one thing that isn’t true and well you know it. Enjoy yourselves, but please be careful with alcohol and remember these words. Alcohol is widely referred to as “cunning, baffling and powerful” and those are quite possibly the truest words I have ever written.

If you feel that you may have a problem speak to somebody and remember that your GP will give you wonderful advice.

Have a great, safe and Happy Christmas. For all the readers of these blogs, can I just take this opportunity to thank you very much for all your support over the year, it means a lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Noob.

For the last few days, I have been placed in a radio station, picking up what pieces of media experience I can, as this mid life crisis shows no sign of ending any time soon.

Is there anything more traumatic, worrying or downright scary than the first day in a new job? We’ve all been there, whether you are in your teens, picking up that part time job at the newsagents or as an adult, where the welfare of your family will be dependant on you picking up a regular wage and keeping a roof over their heads.

I can remember when I left school and entering the work place. It was a daunting thought and walking out onto the factory floor was nerve racking. In those days, back in the 1980’s, things were a little different to what they are today. First of all, you had the management structure, beginning with directors, senior management, foremen, who wore white coats and finally the chargehands. There was also the “pecking order” among the staff themselves. Respect had to be earned and that only happened with time. You began as a “casual”, which meant you had a job and that was about it. You kept your nose clean, didn’t ask for holidays, didn’t even consider sick pay and as for a pay rise, well I’m sorry, but a refusal often offends so you have been warned. They will “break your time” at some stage, normally at Christmas, or financial year end, where you will be let go for a while. If you had given a good impression of yourself, you could expect a call back in the New Year.

Over time, you would move up in the pecking order and could look forward to being made “permanent”. Normally, this occurred when a senior member of staff retired and the next person in line got his job. You watched the list like a hawk and looked forward to the day you started to move up in the list. Once you were permanent, you might be put on a “key” job, which was much less laborious and more importantly meant more money and first choice on available overtime.

The other night I sat at home and sleep wasn’t going to happen. I suffer from sleeping problems anyway, so that was nothing out of the ordinary. However, this was different, I was going into a new job at a radio station, albeit for a short period of time, the following morning. I was going to be the “Noob” at this stage of my life and there is no feeling quite as horrible. On the drive into Clonmel, the feeling intensified and when I parked up outside the station, I actually considered turning around and going home again.

Why do we feel like this? What makes us feel so nervous and insecure? I have been to the radio station lots of times and have spoken on air about issues I feel strongly about. I know the producers and some other staff and they are not going to murder me. (In actual fact, quite the opposite, I don’t think I have ever been made as welcome anywhere in my working life). Over the weekend, I put it down to the body and mind ensuring you don’t get complacent about things and that nervous energy is actually a good thing.

However, you want to put your best foot forward, while bearing in mind that first impressions last and that getting a “foot in the door” is a good thing. You also try hard not to be in the way and being an inconvenience to people. The problem is, you are NOT in the way and people actually go out of their way to make you feel welcome and that you enjoy your stay.

However, in your own mind, you’re still the NOOB.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fighting Irish

Over the last few years, Ireland has gone through a fundamental societal change. We suffered the ignominy of the loss of financial sovereignty, the cost of a bank bailout that placed the sins of a few onto the shoulders of a generation, a generation not even yet born. We have placed a huge responsibility in the hands of our leaders, but they have let us down. Terms such as stroke politics and gombeenism are deemed acceptable to most. We have seen our leaders, with their heads patted like little lapdogs in Europe, rolling over like cute puppies. Our Police force, that most vital part of our society, hard working people who do an outstanding job, a job most of us couldn’t do, have been let down too. As they stand in the cold and wet today, keeping us safe and secure, their leaders, those entrusted to show the same dedication that they show laugh all the way to the bank. Shame isn’t in their vocabulary; accountability is yet to be seen.

Sitting here typing this, it’s snowing outside. Well, there’s a bit of a sprinkle, I can still see the grass but it should be enough to bring the country to a standstill. Any moment now, expect the schools to announce their closure tomorrow, (nothing like making it easy for working parents), the national bus service should grind to a halt and the country will most likely close for business. You see, we Irish don’t really like a challenge anymore and our “fighting Irish” tag doesn’t sit very well anymore either.

My grandmother often told me about when the Black and Tans came to Ireland. This crowd were a pretty unsavoury lot and were sent over by the British to teach us a bit of manners. It’s safe to say that while they may have scored a few “successes” here and there, overall, they got their arses kicked and they went home with their tails between their legs. You see Irish people in those days didn’t really take that and had a tendency to fight back and more power to them.

Now, unless you were living on a different planet over the last while, you will be aware that the British people voted to leave the EU in a referendum. Whether you agree with their decision or not is irrelevant, the British people voted, there was a result, end of story, like it or lump it.

My own opinion is that Brexit is possibly the greatest challenge that Ireland has ever faced. Britain is our biggest trading partner and we rely on them. Many an Irish family were damn glad of the few pound sent home from England in the past, from people who had no alternative but “take the boat”. To ensure that the impact of Brexit on Ireland is minimised, hard negotiations need to take place. These negotiations are complicated due to the role played by the DUP in Northern Ireland and the fact that they hold the balance of power in Westminster. Now this lot don’t really like us that much and you know I often ask myself is there anything that they “do” like. This lot seem to be anti everything and in layman’s terms, “if sore holes were scarce, they would make a multitude”.

So, it’s against that kind of background, that the negotiations need to take place. Our EU paymasters keep a close eye on things too and I can’t help but feel that they are happier to see little old Ireland doing the dirty work on their behalf. I know, that’s little ole cynical me, the EU has always had our best interests at heart, or so they say. That part could be a little debatable too.

This week, Sky News of all people, waded into the debate. Adam Boulton had the audacity to ask some tough questions of our Minister for Foreign Affairs, Simon Coveney. Now, I didn’t see the interview, but it was enough to get people up in arms and get their knickers in a twist. That horrible man from Britain, being hard on our poor minister is so unfair and he should be ashamed of himself. Mr Boulton even tweeted today that Irish people need to get a grip, he’s right.

Saoirse Ronan has upset people too. Now up until this week, I had never heard of her and I probably never will again, if the stupid sketch she did on Saturday Night Live is anything to go by. If poor comedy was to be criminalised, Saoirse would be in trouble, because her sketch was beyond all, it was so bad. But, people got upset over it and its apparent anti-Irish undertones. It was anti comedy and definitely anti entertainment, it was bloody awful stuff.

So, a British journalist, an actress, and a bit of Winter weather in Winter, has us all reaching for our Kleenexes, with indignation. Remember, that’s just this week, there will be something else next week.

What the hell has happened to us in Ireland? Where is the fighting spirit that made us what we are? Where is the courage that made a bunch of thieves and criminals, sent over to teach us a bit of manners, pack up and run away? Where is the cutting edge journalism that holds people to account and reminds them that they serve their people and their country?

I think if the Black and Tans came to Ireland today, people’s attitude would be they have a job to do. If people protested, they would probably be arrested on the street under health and safety legislation or something.

If the Brexit vote occurred in Ireland, they would just hold the referendum again, until they get the result that they want. Remember the referenda on the Nice and Maastricht Treaty’s, no explanation needed.

Make no mistake about it; this is the best country in the world. I have written in the past that I couldn’t live anywhere else and I’m as proud of this country as the next person. Our history is written in blood and there are many Irish men and women who stood firm in front of huge adversity. These men and women showed courage and epitomised the fighting Irish spirit.

At times, I feel they would turn in their graves to see what they fought and died for.

 

 

The Christmas Puppy

I will always remember that very first Christmas morning. I could hear the wind outside and it seemed to be raining, because I could hear the drops hitting off the window. It was dark, but I was warm enough, in my bed. I had peed in my sleep and parts of my bed were wet, so I tried to find a drier part but I peed there too. I don’t do it on purpose, it just happens and it smells a bit.  I was a bit scared, because I had been taken from my mammy, brothers and sisters. These people had placed me in a box and into a strange object, which made a strange noise and we seemed to be moving for a while. Then, I ended up here, in this strange house.

After a while, I could hear people approaching and I could hear happy voices.  I sat up and the door opened in front of me. There were two small children there with their mammy and daddy and they seemed really happy to see me. I wagged my tail and moved towards them, although I didn’t really know if it was okay to do so. If my mammy was here, she would know what to do and she would go first, but I had to be brave and do it myself. I felt rubs from the children and it was nice, very nice and then a little more pee escaped. The daddy seemed to be a little bit annoyed, and he got a few cloths to clean it up. I looked back and he was throwing my bed outside. “He’s only a little puppy”, I heard the mammy say.

There were loads of bright coloured packages in another room and there was a tree, with really nice lights flashing on it. The children were really excited and they were all laughing and having fun. I walked over to them and they started showing me all these really nice things that they had got. Another small bit of pee escaped, because I was really excited. The daddy got a bit annoyed again; I was beginning to feel he didn’t really like me. They all went up to another room, where there was a really nice smell of food. I walked around, smelling the ground and they threw some scraps onto the ground. The scraps tasted nice and I enjoyed eating them. After a while, they went away and the house was silent. I was back out in my original room now, but they forgot to give me back my bed. The floor was cold and I was really thirsty and still a bit scared. I really wish I was still with my family, because I miss them and my mammy is really warm to snuggle up to.

After a while, I heard the people coming back and the children opened the door to my room. There was a small bit of pee on the floor, but the daddy person cleaned it up. He opened the door and they put me outside. It was really cold and the rain was hurting me. I took a few sniffs around and waited at the door for them to let me in. After a while, there was no sign of them, so I cried a little and the door opened. I walked in and there was a really nice smell of food again and this time they gave me some, in a bowl. It was really nice and I warmed up a bit.

After a little while, I felt the urge to poop and it just happened. The daddy, got annoyed again, this was the most annoyed he had been and I was very scared of him. He put me outside again and I heard him muttering inside, as he cleaned it up. I don’t do it on purpose; it just happens to me, I really wish it didn’t. After a while, they let me back in and I find a nice place beside the fire. Everybody is quiet, watching telly, so I take the opportunity to have a sleep. I dream of being with my family, all together, playing and having fun. These people are nice, especially the children, maybe I will get used to it.

That all seems so long ago. These days, nobody plays with me anymore. I’m not allowed into the house and the chain hurts a lot. That’s right; I live on a chain now, tied to my kennel, all the time. I guess it was fun while it lasted, the few comforts, the bit of heat and the warm bed. Soon after that Christmas, the children went back to school and the adults went back to work. I was left alone in the house a few times and I had a few accidents. On one occasion, I chewed up a shoe, because I was bored and I had loads of energy, with no way to use it up. The daddy got really annoyed that evening and they went away in the car. When they came back, they had a new home for me, called a kennel, a chain and a collar thing. I don’t really like the kennel, as it’s a bit cold and the collar was getting too tight for me, so they took it off and just used the chain.

Sometimes I see people walk past with their dogs and I bark, in the hope that they will come in to play with me. They actually hurry past, like they are afraid of me or something. I don’t wish them any harm, I just want some company.

I hate my life, why do people get puppies like me for Christmas?