I haven't written life events for quite a while. Life is pretty stagnant lately. But that's ok I suppose. No news is good news,right? Or so we are kept told.
I write this after being haunted by one of my oldest and longest standing enemies. Worry. There are times where I can be in a room or an arena or what have you and I can feel like the only person there worrying about this and that,trivial things that get to me but I somehow let them start to spiral off in my head and I get racked with worry and the next morning I try not to bring it into my daily life but its difficult. Fucking hell it's tough.
Worry visited me tonight in seeing pictures of my friends I grew up with planning weddings, families, whatnot together. I sat back and thought should that be me and if not,why not? Relationships and me aren't exactly best buddies but the few ones that clicked, they certainly did. For some reason or another, any one I was in just didn't work out. I'd keep telling myself that breakups and all that craic happen every single day. But seeing visuals of others I grew up around being happy struck a chord and made me take a step back. Course I'm happy for them. I'd never deny someone happiness. Just wonder at 36...should my path be laid out in front of me? It's a tricky one.
This time of year brings up the worry in another guise. Christmas. I don't dislike it as much as I used to but this November commercialism shite annoys me more than anything else. If I wasn't working my worry would be maximized tenfold. It puts pressure on so many people unnecessarily. I'm not a humbug by any means - just can't the corporate empires of the world wait another few weeks before unleashing their festive wares on the world? Wishful thinking, right.
Nine times out of ten I'm as pretty much happy go lucky as you can get. Those of you that have met me can attest to that I'm sure. The one time out of ten is where I'm face to face with my old nemesis - the W word. I'm sure I'll banish him some day - but that leads to another W word.
Fifteen years is a long time.
A lot can happen in fifteen years.
I wrote probably my most heartfelt one of these musings two years ago,on the thirteenth anniversary of my brothers passing. It's this time of the year, the third week of November that I dread. The run-up tot today,this Saturday I wish I never had to prepare for. Even the week leading up to it leaves a dark cloud. My now annual trip to mass coincides with it.
I pray the odd time but not for me. For people that are going through tough times or family members that aren't well. It's not even a prayer to a higher power as such but just sending good wishes to them,hoping things turn out alright. I stopped going to church when I saw this massive earthquake in Japan on the news. Hundreds of people died. What did they do to deserve that? Dad asked me why wasn't I going to mass and I just pointed at the tv. He couldn't really argue with that.
It's not easy going into that church on this, the third weekend in November. What am I saying,it's not easy for any of us. Relatives come back afterward for a bit,the kids keep me occupied but I prefer to retreat to my room and find some bit of solitude. It's not easy when the years fly. I was often told to always look forward and never look back in other scenarios but for this I have to look back. A few weeks ago was World Suicide Prevention Day and after work that day I went to the shop and bought a candle and a lighter (I hadn't bought a lighter since I used to buy single cigarettes in NewcastleWest when I was 15) and went to my room, lit that candle in the dark, put it on the window sill and looked at it for about ten minutes in silence. Until I bawled my eyes out. Someone tweeted it was like a light trying to bring them home and they were right. I cried a bit more and blew it out.
I miss him. Last year coming home for the mass I asked Dad to stop at the graveyard for a few minutes just to be there. We got out and went over. All I could think about standing there is why and why isn't he still with us now. It's painful and especially painful since then hearing stories about tragedies involving friends,people you grew up with, people you worked with, went to school with, what have you. I've had to make the call to people that was made to me. I've had to make that call on two seperate occasions and it's the worst call you ever have to make in your life.
I had most of this written last week when I had some quiet time and felt it was right to put thoughts to paper,or to screen in this case. Digital age,eh? I was told once upon a time to put thoughts down like this to get them out of you if they are pent up,I'm sure my GP would approve that I'm trying to dissipate my hypertension in any way shape or form possible. That's another story for another day.
I haven't written in a while, I suppose real-life has gotten in the way. But I shall end this story of remembrance with my brothers favourite song (that he would always request for on the radio) but with a country twist on it.
It might be 15 years but we are bringing it home for one evening.
Thanks for reading and always know there is someone always watching over you.
This Sunday sees the biggest event in the sports entertainment calendar - WrestleMania 30. An event that is the epitome of American pomp and circumstance,razzmatazz or whatever buzz word you want to put in there. It's something that I admittedly would have a passing interest in,I say passing because as I grew up from adolescence,I discovered alcohol and women which in turn,waned my interest from this soap opera for men just a tad. But,I digress.
Like any youngster,when you saw pro wrestling on the tv,you were taken aback by these larger than life characters. I remember the first video tape (remember those) I ever saw of this and the main event was the Ultimate Warrior against the Macho Man Randy Savage. I was transfixed on the Warrior - and when some fella with wacky face paint runs to the ring and shakes the ropes (which usually was the highlight of one of his matches,he wasn't one of the purists let's say) you tend to pay attention. I mean,that's not something you see every day. WrestleMania 6 came along and it was "The Ultimate Challenge" which pitted the Warrior against Hulk Hogan. All the lads in primary were Hulkamaniacs - and to be honest I was sick of seeing Hogan win all the time - a trend that would continue later in his WCW tenure,but that's another story for another day. The Warrior won,which I was thrilled to bits with,and naturally with this being the days of pre-internet spoilers, I found out he won two months after the feckin match took place. One of the other highlights of Warriors career were his "promo" or interview skills....
Fast forward to 1994 - where my brother,Lord have mercy on him,tells me to go out to his car to get an envelope out of the glove box. He tells me to open it. WWF tickets at the Point. I couldn't believe it. I was actually going to see a live show. We went and it was everything I expected. No Warrior,he had long gone. But the Macho Man was,but I was looking out for someone else - as I started to watch more,I started to appreciate the in-ring athleticism these lads had,and one stood out more than any other..Bret the Hitman Hart. Some of his matches were like watching Rembrant at work. He was that good. He wasn't there but I got a pair of his sunglasses that he would give to kids at ringside before his matches in the Point. And I still have them. More on Bret later. My brother was a big Shawn Michaels fan,more than likely for his theme music. Many a night my head would be driven demented by "I'm just a Sexy Boy" sang repeatedly. I still laugh when I hear it. One of my happiest memories of us was being at that wrestling show.
Now,onto 1997. Bret Hart had agreed to sign to a rival company,WCW. They were destroying WWF in the tv ratings every week and with the WWF losing money,they had no choice but to let one of their highest earners go. By this time I was in college and suprisingly in the company of a lot of like-minded individuals. The stage was set. Survivor Series in Montreal. Bret Hart (who was WWF Champion at the time) vs Shawn Michaels. No one could have predicted what happened next. Well,okay maybe a few in the backstage area.
Basically,there was a real-life double cross and Bret Hart left the company under a very dark cloud. I was bulling after it. Shortly after that,things took major turns for him. His brother died in a freak in-ring accident. His own career was ended by a kick to the head in the ring and later suffered a stroke. I was heartbroken to see one of my own personal heroes,someone that I had watched over the years have setback after setback. But he came back from all of that,and even a few years ago was doing a tour of Ireland,and one of those stops was at UL. This I could not miss. I met Bret Hart,got a 1992 WWF magazine signed and thanked him for all the great matches and memories he gave us in the ring. It's funny because a few years after that I was at a live show in the O2 it's called these days and I was sitting in the front row (contacts) and he came over and saw me and shook hands with me again. I felt like one of those kids he'd give his pink sunglasses to at that stage. Delighted.
Now,onto 2006. Yes there is a big gap between then and 1997/98 I know. They hadn't toured Ireland from 1994 to 2004 I believe. And the product in 2002/3 wasn't exactly thriving,probably because they were the only game in town and had done a big turnaround and driven their main competitor out of business. I sat watching previous Wrestlemanias and always thought to myself - "What would it be like. To go to a WrestleMania." Then I saw where WrestleMania 22 was going to be held. Chicago. A place where I have a few relatives. Do you see where this is going? I certainly did! Sure enough,they were aware that it was happening and said it'd be nice to catch up. So there I was,flying to The Windy City for a few days. I even got to see where the Blues Brothers was filmed and got to a Bulls game in the United Center which was great. But being at a WrestleMania was incredible. American (and especially Chicago crowds) are extra amped up. If they don't like certain performers,they will let them know. Doesn't matter if they are "good" or "bad" guys by default,the Chi town crowd doesn't discriminate!
Now,onto today. Todays performers are mostly different. There a few of the old guard still knocking around,the most well-known would be The Undertaker,who has never lost at Wrestlemania and is putting his undefeated streak on the line this Sunday against Brock Lesnar. But the matches I will be looking out for involve this man:
If you watch those three videos one after the other you will get the jist of who Daniel Bryan is. He's not the usual Herculean size fella,he's an underdog, and the crowd absolutely love him,. He has two simple catchphrases "Yes" and "No" and the crowd lap them up. If he doesnt win this Sunday, then I will be pretty much done with WWE and will probably start watching Eastenders. Probably!
Roll on Sunday where I will be avoiding spoilers as much as humanely possible!
I hope some of you enjoy this and maybe it served as a mini trip down memory lane. I enjoyed writing it.
I've had a fondness for country music from a very early age. How early? Since I was in the womb. Mam would often go up and sing these random country songs on a Saturday/Sunday evening at the local tavern (see how country we are sounding here?) and these were my first nights out - when you are in a full hall with a bag of taytos and lemonade at age 7 you take what nights out you can get. I don't know why,but I enjoyed these clichéd songs about partners leaving and your boss firing you. Melancholy stuff but these fellas (and women) could really sell the story. I did try to shake off the country bug but it wasn't happening. Where I come from,it's ingrained,in my case,embedded. I didn't have a hope.
Then later on,my brother,Lord have mercy on him came back to the house in the mid-90's with these cd's (yes,pre-digital age) of this Oklahoma lad with a Stetson. Garth Brooks. I was like "What are these?" He was like "Listen!" and put on the In Pieces album. The Red Strokes came on and you couldn't help tap your foot along to it. He had the No Fences album too which had the more popular ones like Friends In Low Places,Unanswered Prayers and the simply brilliant The Thunder Rolls. And these are great songs that stand up well,even now. I think those CDs are still at home somewhere. I must go and look for them. On my other brothers wedding video,the last song on it is The Dance and my brother is there all happy so every time I hear that,I have a small moment to myself. It's a great song regardless. I don't honestly know if he ever got to see him in 1997. If he did,he never told me.
Fast forward to my own little era and me coming back home tired and emotional and mam there still up with my sister and I just stare at them and then start to sing
"Johnny was born in a mansion, somewhere in the County of Clare
Rosie was reared by the roadside, somewhere in County Kildare
Destiny brought them together, on the road to Killorglin one day
In her bright pretty shawl she was singing,
And she stole his young heart away.."
Mam finished the song and my sister would look on in disbelief. Dad would throw in a non-committal "Go way to bed" and that's pretty much a thumbs up as I'm going to get.
Which brings us to today. Where Garth Brooks tickets went on sale and caused a mixture of pandemonium and borderline snobbery on ticket sites and social media. Honestly it was the hardest ticket I ever got. 1 hour and 40 mins of waiting had me look up and say "C'mon help me out here". You know who I was talking to.
Five minutes later,the ticketmaster app lit up and I had a ticket.
I saw snobbery on Twitter and Facebook in regards to people who committed the crime of saying they liked music or an artist that isn't "cool" or "hasn't brought out a song in donkey's years". I suppose those Monty Python tickets came out for the laugh earlier this year,then.
I'm very proud of the music that was drummed into me and with my family memories of Garth Brooks through the years,you could probably say that I have been waiting for this concert for a very,very long time.
Good evening from the safe confines of my suburban Limerick room. I'm currently typing this listening to the rain clashing off the window like it's going out of fashion. Are they filming Angela's Ashes 2 - The Revenge outside? No. At least I hope they're not anyway. I glance across social media and I see talk about a musical erm talent show where half the contestants mime (they did tonight I hear) and then there is our fearless political leader giving a state of the nation address telling us things we already knew and/or predicted. Am I watching these things as they happen? God no. Life (and my hypertension) is too short.
Now look,I know that there are some things out there that I'm not entirely crazy about,but it works both ways. Variety is the spice of life,right? You might adore some music and/or tv shows that I might abhor and probably would. But that's ok. If we were all the same,it'd be a very boring world. I was tidying my room a bit today (it was raining) and I gathered a pile of Blurays and put them into a big box. As I admired my new found Feng Shui skills I realised that I hadn't watched half of what was in the box. I suppose life gets in the way. Not that I'm complaining,I'm in steady enough employment and in a very content relationship. So my time to suspend reality is limited and when I have free time,it usually revolves around films that I might find groundbreaking but you might look at for two minutes and just go "No. Just no."
One in particular is a film that was made here. No,not in Limerick but if it was it'd be as popular as Taffin. (For those that haven't seen Taffin,I'll be around after the blog to explain) It was filmed (and I use that term generously) in Trim,Co.Meath. I know what's going through your mind. And yes,I know that Braveheart was a fine epic,but that's not the one I'm on about.
Enter:
Say hello to Ireland's one (and only) martial arts movie Fatal Deviation. Where the one single solitary stunt in the film that constituted any degree of special effects or CGI involved a car crashing on a straight road (no,really) and the car blowing up which could have killed the lead actor as he kicked his way out of the soon to be fireball. Did I mention this film also stars Mikey Graham? No? Ok.
Because it does. And it's clear to see that our Mikey filmed his scenes in half a day. If you're curious/bored/braggadocious - watch this. If you're still talking to me after,we'll compare notes. Deal?
You may be suprised to know that film was never shown on RTE. Or Sky. or Netflix. See a pattern emerging here? Yup. It does fall into the so bad,it's good category. Here is another barely coherent clip from said eyesore:
Yes,somewhere in Ireland,there is such a thing as "Beat Up My Men Week".
****************** INTERMISSION LETS ALL GO TO THE LOBBY ********************
As bad as that was,I am sure there are far far worse. That would just
descend into another debate on what film is more stomach churning than the
next,so I won't go into that otherwise we'd be here until next Christmas. So I
am going to select another film that has its detractors to say the least.
I give you "The Room"
This film was funded by writer/star/director/undecipherable accent laden
visionary that is Tommy Wiseau. Tommy spent $6m on this. You wouldn't think it
looking at it. People label it as "The Citizen Kane of bad movies".
Consider the bar hereby raised. The film has barely a plot and the plot it has
just veers off on to more tangents than I care to recall. What makes things
even more peculiar is that it plays to now sold out monthly screenings across
the world for the cult status it now has. I wont go into too much detail - I
will let the youtube clips tell their own story.
Here is probably its most quotable piece. Incoherency incoming!!
And here is another faux pas. Spot the obvious breakdown in logic here!
Speaking of breakdowns,here is Johnnys (mild spoilerage)
And pushing the spoiler boundaries here...the FIGHT SCENE(with one of the most bizarre taunts ever....)
Again you may be as equally shocked to know that it has not been televised.
But its out on Bluray so it has one up on Trim's finest already. I'm sure for
every Godfather or Scarface,there are a hundred Fatal Deviations or Rooms. But
I'm sure that's what is the unique thing about them all. Just nod and smile
whenever an obscure line from them is muttered - it makes life a lot easier!
Instant Karma's gonna get you Gonna knock you off your feet Better recognize your brothers Everyone you meet
(John Lennon)
There has been a lot of talk in the last seven days about the word "loyalty". Most of it swirling around a certain autobiography that has come to light. Yes,I have read some of the more,shall we say,critical,chapters in it. I'm not saying this because I am a Liverpool fan and if it was a Liverpool ex-manager that brought a book out and started damning his ex-players in the public domain,I would feel let down. A dressing room is commonly known as one of the most sacred institutions in sports.What is said in there,stays in there. Unless youre Davy Fitz. I know some Man Utd fans that are let down - and naturally some are blinkered that the author can still do no wrong whatever he says or does. And that's not a dig. There are fans like that with every team. Is it why I am not as avid a football devotee that I once was? Perhaps (veering on yes).
But there was a time where loyalty was rewared in a short-term measure but had long-term effects. For me,anyway. When we were in secondary school,part of a French assignment (for extra marks) was to write to a French business or company asking about them and basically looking for brochures. I went home thinking "Who the fuck am I going to write to? In French?" I stuck on Eurogoals (which was basically like a continental version of Match Of The Day) and then saw who I was going to write to. The famous football team Paris Saint-Germain. I had been watching them for years. They had real quality. Rai. Leonardo. Lama. Loko. They later brought in some lads called Ronaldinho,Anelka,Beckham and Ibrahimovic. I think they did ok for themselves. So I got the bright idea of asking them for brochures on the stadium,the facilities,fan clubs,what have you. The letter I wrote may have had a few pronouns out of place but I'd like to think that added to the charm of it all (!) They had the teacher even took us to the post office to make sure we sent the letters off! No spoiled voting or 0 points here!! Two weeks later I got this big massive envelope. Inside was a brochure on the club,the squad but the coup de grace (see what I did there) was a thank you letter from one of the clubs directors. Say hello to an A in French and a PSG fan for life after that.
To me,loyalty is very important. You're good to someone,they are good to you. That should be the case in everyday life anyway,but that isn't always the case as we all know.If you go by horoscopes,and sometimes I may pass an eye over them,I,as a Libra,tend to be loyal. Now if the horoscope says that,it must be true,right?! (Okay I googled "Libra" and "loyal" but same result!) You have to be good to yourself too,and I have been guilty of not being at times,especially when deep in thought over this that and the other. Basically being tough on myself. I have eased up on that. These days (ok tonight!),being good to myself is having a blackberry Lemsip and chatting to my other half. Sensibility? I'd like to think so!
(I was in two minds on whether I'd publish this or not. In the end I decided to. This was written up late Sunday evening)
I'm currently writing this on the longest bus journey ever. All Ireland traffic would do that. As long as this journey is,it is exactly that. A journey. We are all on our own specific journeys in life - no matter how arduous or taxing they are,life is a journey and you have to prepare for whatever happens. Being in this seat for I don't know how many hours now has made me lose track of time,and recount my own life up until now. There have been a lot of peaks and a lot of valleys - like anyone would have. But for me,it almost wasn't like that.
I watched the interview with Stephanie Meehan on the Late Late on Friday just gone,and as I watched this brave,articulate lady tell her harrowing tale,I watched on only imagining how hard it was for her to say those things. With this week being World Suicide Prevention Week,I figured I would say what I have found it hard to say and basically kept to myself for a while. I don't have those thoughts now,but before I did. On more than one occasion,too. I had never felt so low,so low to the point I felt what good was I. What purpose was I serving. Sadly I've suffered personal heartache with events that have happened in the past,with a few friends and closer to home. What happened at home really brought things to a halt. It broke my heart. And part of it still has paper covering the cracks. I often spend hours at a time wondering why people just don't talk. And I get very cut up over it all. It hurts. I fill myself with empathy and it can overflow.
I'm writing this,to show people that it's ok to show emotion,to show feeling. No one will ever know it unless you tell them that there could be something wrong. Am I an emotional person? Absolutely. I got bad when Bambi's mother got killed for heavens sake. Overly emotional at times but that's me and it's a part of me and it's a part that won't change. People tend to bottle things up and keep them to themselves and then it can be too late. I remember all those years ago being offered counselling after my brother died. I didn't want it because I didn't want anyone knowing what was going on in my head. What business was it of theirs,I figured. I know they were only trying to help. Maybe in time,I will talk a bit more extensively.
For far too long,it has been considered a taboo subject. I've heard all the terms. The "oh we don't talk about that" sorta thing. What hurts me the most is the fact that we don't talk enough. We seem hesitant to show that we are human and not bulletproof. I don't beg much but I implore you,whoever is reading this,that if you are bothered,or concerned with something,talk to someone about it. Help is always there.
So I decided to put a small bit together on the July Bruce shows that I was at. Here beginneth the lesson! The first show was Limerick. July 16. How often do I get to sleep in my own bed after a concert? Not very often,let me tell you! I knew the night before that it was announced about it so I was told to sit on it till then,which knowing me is very hard to do! I took one of my best friends to it. It was his first show and I had him well briefed on the event that was about to occur. The vibe around town was great. Everyone enjoying themselves,no guff,well apart from some fella that had waited 25 years to year a specific song live and let the babbling couple beside him know exactly that. Oh and he had his arm up like he was ready to command a militia or ready to pull the horn on an 18 wheeler for the bones of the night,but hey,thats his thing. Did I mention I was interviewed on the Last Word with Matt Cooper before and the day after the gig? Yup,that really happened. Normally when you're on The Last Word two days running you've caused a storm in the church or you've financially ruined a country. I don't think I'm guilty of either so yay,go me!!
Then there was Cork. I really wanted Cork to be great. I'm half a Corkman for goodness sake,and am very proud of that fact. Everyone on Mam's side seem to have similar sense of humour to me - or else they love being wound up,whatever comes first. I hadn't been there in God knows how long so there was a yearning to go back,even if it was in essence a day trip. Mam and Dad were going to a wedding in Cork the same day so it made perfect sense to go with them and meet them in the hotel bar afterwards not reeking of Heineken,right? That's what happened,I did keep it PG - no slurred warblings,just calm and composed drinking Heineken out of a glass this time as opposed to a plastic cup.
I hadn't been to Pairc Ui Choaimh in a good twenty years. I had gone with Dad to that match and we talked about it briefly on the way down. Getting there was fine. But once down there,the organisation of the place was a write off. You want a drink? Hey,no problem! See that van? You go there and buy a drinks voucher. Then you take that drink voucher and go to the other van to swap it for drink. Can you see how this process went? Yup,disastrously. Security giving pit passes to their buddies after they saying they were all gone. I heard the toilets closed at one point. I could be wrong in that but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if it was true. The gig was great,just the setup was a let down. And then there was getting out! No lights going out of the place meant you could trip very very easily. I didn't but saw a few trip over potholes. Summary - great show,bad organisation/ logistics. Stadium needs a Wrecking Ball! (Sorry Corcaigh you know I heart you,really)!
Then we had Kilkenny the following weekend so I had some time to come back down to earth from the previous two. This was going to be different for a plethora of reasons - first,I had never been to Kilkenny. Second - I was bringing my better half to the show (her first Boss experience) so was secretly hoping she'd see what all the fuss was about that had me traipsing across Europe to see him at one point. All my fears were allayed really quickly as she loved it and like most first-timers,is now hooked. She even has the back catalogue now which I'm very very happy with! Plus it didn't rain which helped! Thumbs down to the guy sniffing white substances off the back of his hand though. Yup,sadly that was going on.
So all in all,each gig had its own little subplot. Personally,Limerick for me on the whole was the better of the lot,no bias,but just everything was just right. Weather,organisation,logistics. Kilkenny a very close second (I better say that!) and Cork bringing up the rest. You can't have it perfect all the time,I suppose! Here's to the next shows!!
I actually had the vast majority of this written almost three weeks ago. The fact that i didn't have to edit it too much is good,because it'd show regret,which I don't have.
So ends my 45 week contract in where I worked. My first job in almost three and a half years of being in the wilderness. I knew going in that it was going to be 45 weeks maximum. There later was an option of applying for a two year contract but that meant three interviews,presentations,evaluations,whatnot. Even before I heard about this,I knew the job wasn't for me. I wanted to go the distance,and be able to leave on my own terms. Not get sacked,not get put on gardening leave,just to leave by my own options. Get it on my CV and add to my skillset. There were times where I didn't think I'd last. Especially when going from one line of work to another that you had zero experience in,some days were really,really daunting. I thought about giving up and saying "Enough". I know its a job,and they aren't exactly easy to come by,and hey,I've often said in the past "You're lucky to have it". And don't get me wrong,the lads in work were great. Really helpful no matter how trivial a question I would ask. And I probably asked some ridiculous stuff. And yeah,I could have left and walked. But that's the thing about me. I didn't want to go out like that a quitter. I wanted to leave on my own terms and say I went the full tenure. I can be extremely stubborn at the best of times. That's just me and I won't deny it. I didn't want to be known as the fella that left or quit or walked or whatever spin you want to put on it. I didn't want to be known as the fella that people would say "Oh he was working but he couldn't hack it". Fuck.That. Even if I did do that I could say back "At least I tried it,what have you ever done" but again,that's the stubbornness that wants to burst out. And I wont badmouth the company. At this moment in time they are one of the biggest companies in the world in what they do. They gave me a position and an opportunity and I'm grateful for that.
So now I'm on square two. I wont call it square one because at least now I was able to take something from where I was,and add it to my own list of credentials. I'm back applying to signing on as of tomorrow but I don't want that to last for as long as it did before. I refuse to let that happen. I have motivation now that I didnt have in such a long time. It's much different to the way things have been for me before as I now have someone by my side who I know wants to do all they can to help me. To me,that means everything. She would listen to my tribulations about the job and not be judgmental and always try to help,and I'm not afraid to admit that sometimes I do need help. I'm not perfect,far from it. I can hit a wall mentally and switch off from the world. She has helped me stay switched on.
I watched a documentary on a day off a few days before I finished up about a man in a completely different profession but in a similar contract situation. His was up and wasn't being renewed (it later was but that alone made the story more interesting). He had been counting down the days,like I was. Crossing the days off a calendar. Ok I wasn't exactly doing that but I had an idea when it was up. On being offered the chance to stay or finally go,he sought advice. He was asked what he wanted. He simply said "I want to make a difference". To that he was told "You can't make a difference from your couch". That struck a major chord with me. I don't honestly know if I can make a difference but I sure as fuck am not going to spend my days sitting on my couch thinking about it.
I start again. But with help. And a headstart. Time to make the best of it.
There are some well documented adages that have been flying around since the dawn of time. "Never work with children or animals". "A stitch in time saves nine". And another is "Never meet your heroes".
Why is that?
You need to have someone or something to aspire to. I can imagine that there is the possibility of potential disappointment when and if you do,but you'll never know unless you actually do. Until then,all you have are pipe dreams and visualisations.
I'd love to meet my hero. And I don't have too many.
Bruce Springsteen.
I've seen him ten times. Followed him up the road to Dublin,Belfast,over the pond to London and then onto Munich. And will also be doing the trek to Cork,Kilkenny and my hometown of Limerick,which is a dream in itself. I know people that have seen him a hell of a lot more times than I,but those ten concerts hold so many special moments in my head. Each concert has been different which is what makes a Bruce show so appealing. I have converted so many people to him and the E Street Band that they also cannot wait for the shows!
I remember the day it was announced Bruce was playing Limerick. I was in a boardroom at work at this one day seminar about resiliency techniques. I had my phone under the table checking Twitter every two minutes. Then the news broke and I was hopping. Absolutely buzzing at the news.
To put it simply,I'd love to meet Bruce,even to shake his hand and thank him for the great music,inspiring lyrics and unforgettable concerts he has given me.
That's my dream.
And if anyone ever says they don't have a dream,they're talking out of their you know what. Because everybody has one.
Greetings and salutations from my room. As always,when I feel something needs to be written in blog form,it usually comes to fruition here. Sadly,I wish I didn't have to be writing this piece but due to events in South Africa this week,I felt I had to comment on something that inevitably stems from a tragedy of this kind.
Mockery.
Since the events and happenings started to unfold,the so-called jokes start to flood in,especially across social networks where the things are still rife. Am I missing something here,or is it the "in thing" to make light of someone being murdered? Would you like it if someone belonging to you perished like that? I wouldn't and sure as hell wouldn't be best pleased if I went on the Internet and saw people find humour in it. It beggars belief that stuff like this does occur,and sadly,chances are will recommence when the next tragedy occurs.
In short,if you like that sort of thing,go to Sickipedia. Or don't bother me with your "wit". Either or works.
What an interesting year this has been. At the time of writing,we are still in 2012 so, as it is still with us,there may still be an opportunity for some extra joy/oddness to conjure up. But let's not tempt fate. For now, at least.
If I am being honest,I don't remember much of this year from say,July onward. No,I was not in a drink or drug fuelled haze or anything,there just was nothing of merit to report about. Those 6-7 months were the same as they have been for the last three-odd years. Job-hunting and plodding on. When every day feels the same, you forget what actual day it is. But that all changed this year. I am working. I kept going and going and going until I got something. Did I feel like quitting? I did,at one point,yes. But I knew I had to keep trying. And then it happened. And it's great to be doing so. Now,I am under no illusions that it is going to last,because it's a temporary contract,which is fair enough. So at least I know that it is going to end at some point next year,which I am grand with. But it's a job,and it's experience. So no moaning from me getting up early in the mornings now. It's what I wanted. Plus it's also fulfilling when you set a goal for yourself and you get it. Too many times there was humming and hawing about deciding things and then - bang - stuck in a rut again. This is when you learn the most about yourself. When you are literally with your back against the wall. Either cower or come out like a headcase. I did both. And I am much better for doing both.
As I learned more about myself, I learned more about others around me.When you have extended time to yourself like I did, everything around you is either magnified or reduced. For me, magnified. This year,I have dealt with some complete inane stupidity. And I mean REAL idiocy. When you cut those factors out of your life,and replace them with better imagery,your life becomes so much better. I have it probably jinxed it now! Only recently I found out that someone I used to hang around with back in the day, who was a real hellraiser and would be a general mad laugh has been basically neutered into some political commentator. I would have to do doubletakes and make sure it wasnt the same person. Real WTF moments ensued. But I am over that in a way Taylor Swift could only dream about being over something.
Even more recently at my birthday,the last two Fridays before that,I was able to go out on the drink. I had not gone out two Fridays in a row in three years and that's the God's honest truth. I didn't know myself. It took a bit (and still is) of getting used to! Not that I am complaining,mind. That weekend was brilliant. Vodka does make Steven Seagal films more interesting/decipherable. Went home on the Saturday then had a ticket presented to me for the Munster game on the Sunday,great day that was to round it off. Things just really started to come together. I was working for less than two months again and it was just a nice time to be doing things. And it still is.
Last Christmas,i was very uneasy as it was a tough time for me,as I'm sure it was for others. I wrote about that in a previous blog so no repeating! Obviously now,my circumstances have changed so Ilook to this one with a bit less uncertainty. Working until Christmas Eve,so thats the nearest I will get to a fairytale finish in regards to the time of year we have,but I am looking forward to it a bit more this time around,personally and professionally. I am going to get a multitude of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse headaches but I won't care.
Because I will be home. With the best backup anyone could ever wish for.
(Now for bed -work calls!)
For thirteen years,I have hated this time of the year. This second to last week in November. It was this week,thirteen years ago that my brother took his own life.
I don't know why he did it. I was asleep. Forty miles away. I was on a night shift sound asleep. I woke up and there were notes in the letterbox saying to ring home urgently. I was half asleep but I woke up fairly quick when I started to realise something was badly wrong. I rang home with borderline fear,knowing the news on the other end of the line was not going to be good. And it wasnt. It was my uncles wife on the other end who said the words that I had been dreading. I knew something had happened,and the fact that I did not know who to made it even worse. Then she said it and I froze. The first thing I said was "What" then "Why". The realisation dawned and I went into hysterics when my other brother called down to get me out of the house there. He was in shock as much as I was.
We went home and the relatives were all there. Then the neighbours. Then the others that feel they just have to come in out of nowhere. In reality,I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be left well alone. All I could think of was I was 40 miles away,powerless to do anything,powerless to even talk. That,I still carry on myself.
The funeral came and I was asked to do a reading. I did and I haven't done one since. Halfway through I looked at the coffin in front of me and I froze again. I got through it and on going back to my seat I said that I would never read again. Then we went out to the graveyard but before we all went,I asked the hearse driver if I could go in the passenger seat. He was grand with it. We stopped at our house for a minute. This time I didn't freeze. I was in tears as I recounted us playing basketball and I fell on my knee. Hard. He would look down on me as I was ready to bawl and go "Do you think Michael Jordan would cry if he fell? Get up!!" He was trying to toughen me up,and it worked. I gave the driver the nod,and we went. That was the longest car journey of my life.
I only wished he'd talked. Suicide can tear families apart,but it brought us even closer as a family. And its such a taboo subject in this country. It was 13 years ago,and it is today. If something is on your mind,please please talk to someone about it.
The power of words can be astounding. I am not exactly Mr Motivator but when I feel something needs to be said, I will say it. Two recent occurences where I would usually stay quiet but instead I said something happened lately.
I was finishing work there one evening and this guy was walking against me,looking for info on the area where he just had an interview. He still looked a bit nervous,even after the interview was done. We talked briefly for a few minutes about the area,the shoddy bus service,whatnot.He went on his way to the hotel still a bit upset looking,so as I was just getting my bus i wished him well and hoped he got the job. He smiled and gave me a sincere thumbs up.
Another evening I was out,there was a young lad across the way at the counter from me, just staring at a pint of Guinness that had gone well flat. I tried to lighten the mood and ask him were the pints bad here today,and he looked up with a vacant look in his eyes. Not angry at what I asked, just a sullen look. I asked him was he alright,and he easily could have told me where to go, but he started to open up a bit and say that it was his first time away from home being in college here and he was homesick. I said that I was homesick too when I first left home, now hey I know, the independence is great, and it is, but so are home comforts. There is nothing like them. I said it's okay to be homesick, it was obviously bothering the lad being away. I just told him that it's perfectly fine to jump on a bus or a train home for a few days. Who is going to say something to you objecting? Nobody. I go out home for a few days when I get anyway bogged down. The lad sincerely said "Thank you for talking to me" and went on his way.
On another given day, I could have buttoned it and got on with my own day and tribulations or whatever. But I am glad I intervened in both those occasions because you don't know whats going on in someones mind unless you ask.I hope yer man gets that job and the other lad gets to go home a bit more.
The more things change,the more they stay the same. Today was a prime example of it,well,in the sporting calendar anyway. There was a plethora of sport on today (and still is on as I type this) and whatever interest you had,chances are there was something on today that would interest you. There was GAA,golf and football. We will focus on the football for the purpose of todays write-up.
This afternoon we had the Liverpool v Mnachester United game. It is usually the one fixture that I look up first when the fixtures are released to the general public. There is a rivalry between the two clubs,of that there is no doubt,but also,as if we didnt know already aftertoday,an underlying tone of hatred among some (and I stress the word some) sets of rival supporters. Most notably revolving around the Hillsborough and Munich tragedies,where some sections of the fans sing vile and reprehensible chants mocking the people that perished. Now there is a rivalry there which has been there for quite some time,and rivalries can be healthy. It stems competitiveness. It makes you want to strive to be the best. To go out there and play to the best of your ability. To win but win in the right spirit. But that should be it in regards to the chanting. Chant about the leagues you've won or the golas you scored at the other teams stadium. THAT is where the line should be drawn. When chants about people dying,families,people that never came home (on both sides) come into the equation,well,thats when the line firmly becomes a dot.
Today started with great optimism on all counts. There was an impeccable tribute from the Liverpool fans before the game. The majority of Manchester United fans applauded and respected it but some defiantly had their arms folded and you could tell they were not going to participate. This is not a dig at their club or because they won today,that was what I saw on tv like everyone else. Their captain released 96 red balloons into the sky remembering the Hillsborough victims and one of their all time greatest players presented a bouquet of flowers. Their entire squad even wore "96" on their training gear. Even both managers held a pre-match interview together. Never been done before for this fixture. So fair play to Manchester Unnited for doing their bit in that regard. The game had almost everything. Handshakes all round. A hotly contested red-card. Goals at both ends. Oh,and a penalty.
And of course these days,in case we miss anything that was said and done at the match,we have the advent of social media. Which,unfortunately,and this is the real point I am trying to convey,can give complete normally non-enteties the chance to make some completely outlandish statement just to fuel the hatred even more,thus completely undoing the good work that both clubs are trying to do. The referee of todays game who is in cancer remission,was the subject of hateful abuse from some Liverpool fans on Twitter,who evern berought wished misfortune on the rest of his family. Then on later viewing,I see a guy mocking the Munich disaster. This is the shite we are trying to eradicate and yet it still manages to rear its ugly head. Hey,I get a little agitated when my team lose. Anyone would. But not to the point of wishing death on someone. Why? Where is the logic in it? And would you be a big man to go upto that person and say it to their face? Or stick to being Mr Anonymous behind the keyboard. A keyboard that Mummy and Daddy should take away from them before school the next morning as it seems thats the intellect they portray when they tweet that vitriol.
In any other sport,it's not there. Lookat the GAA today. Both sets of fans,openly mingling with each other. The only argument they will have tonight is whether to stay for another drink and hopefully be able to make the last train home. Rugby? Same thing. You win,you win. You lose,you lose. Take the slag and have a few drinks after. I hope some day,all the badness in football is gone. And not just in reference to Liverpool and Manchester United,I mean hateful chanting worldwide. I an not entirely holding my breath though.
But it was almost the one-step-further of saying "No" to it completely. And I mean very close. So close that I actually said those words to the admissions office inside there this morning. I,at first went in and said that I am turning the offer down. I felt that now wasnt the right time for me to try full-time education again. And that decision was not one made easy by any means. It was a very,very tough call. So tough that I weighed up all the pros and cons of it all,and sadly,the cons outweighed the pros.
I know someone going back part time as a postgrad,and she had to drop out of Dublin last year as she was leaving town at 4am just to commute there. For a finish,it just wasnt worth it. She isnt grant eligible this time around,so her parents are paying for semester 1,and even with a part time job,she doesnt know if she will be able to pay semester 2. Even being funded and getting other assistance,I took everything into account,and I didnt even think of the whole "student life" element.Honestly. That side of it doesnt appeal to me,as mad as that sounds. If I get one night out every once in a while,I'm doing well,and thats a few pints in midweek (not that there is anything wrong with that). I dont do weekends. But ye already knew that anyways.
The last few nights,I havent slept well thinking about the whole thing. Last night I didnt sleep at all. At least I dont have the worry of my hair falling out. I spoke to two people last night,outlining my worries. Neither tried to talk me out of it. They respected where I was coming from with it all,and the decision I made. The place is there for 12 months,but truth be told,I'd rather be working full time rather than being a student. I got cold feet. Good thing there wasnt an altar in the vacinity. The aim of finding a job is my priority now. The part time courses I have been doing the last 3 years were fine,they kept my brain somebit active. And I am not going to let it idle. I am going to read up on whatever literary pleasure I can get my hands on.
Let me just say that this isnt a play for sympathy,far from it. I always said in these blogs,they would be honest. Gritty,maybe,but alwways honest.
I looked it up. A trait among Librans is one of "a defect of not knowing how to forgive their fellowmen". Well, if it's on the internet...then it MUST be true,right? I recently was able to put this theory into practice,by accident or fate or whatever you want to call it,in two different entities.
I'll go with the more enlightening one first. A few weeks ago in town, I was having a pint when I met the bar owner who just happened to be one of my old bosses.It was the first time I'd seen him in there,I'd been in the place a few times and always had fun there,but this was the first time I'd seen him since the place we both worked closed down three years ago. As my boss, this fella put me through the wringer. Majorly. He'd set you off on wild goose chases,often putting you in positions that you had next to no knowledge about,and then he'd wonder why production was stalling. In return,naturally,I cant keep my trap shut and I was quite vocal about the way he was running things,which led to constant back and forths. Just constant. And I wasn't the only one that felt this way. So for a finish,I suppose there was ill will there and I wasnt entirely guilt free in trying to be somebit professional about things,but when things arent being commandeered properly,it can only lead to derision from varied quarters. Bottom line, I was in the wrong too. Fast forward to 2012 and he comes over to where I'm sitting and extends his hand.I shake it and we have small talk about how things are. Not exactly awkward but it's fine. I see him the day after in town and we say hello. A small part of my soul is gone white.
Now you're thinking,happy ending and all is rosy in the garden,right? Well,in that case,yeah. Compare that to case study number two.
I get a add request or whatever they are called nowadays on Facebook from a former work colleague and that's being generous. This guy was and probably still is,a real piece of work. Now I'm no angel,but if I'm someone that has three kids by two different women,and I'm living with one of these women and kids,the first thing I probably wouldn't do is go off with an American flight attendant in a hotel bar. I kinda stayed away from his activities after that. Then,long after that, I get these phonecalls,from him,(note - if you are going to prank me,AT LEAST hide your number) asking me what time our Fás couirse starts at. Keep in mind we have never been in anything remotely resembling a classroom - especially considering when he is up the country. The the random text "well buddy are we going out?" Never have I been so tempted to write his number on the wall of a jacks somewhere. Just a complete oddball thats far better off left to his own devices.
Then there is myself. On getting a phonecall recently that I hadn't been successful for a job,I was fuming with myself. That was my first interview in two years. I'd been in there over and hour and was full sure I had it. I really was. Just complete and utter anger for the next few days after that. It took me a while to get over that,but it must be the same for so many others around the country. Pain in the hole,but what can ya do.
Bottom line - Sometimes you need to forgive yourself as much as forgiving others.
As Ringo Starr once said to Marge Simpson - "Forgive the lateness of my reply" (or blog posting in this case). I haven't put text to screen in a while,simply because there hasnt been anything majorly captivating or bizarre to rant about.
Until now.
The last few weeks on tv3,there is a "programme" on after Vincent Brown finishes up. No,I'm not talking about the "National Entertainment Guide". I am of couese referring to "Psychic Readings Live". This is basically a two hour "entertainment service" as it is billed. You know something is up in this aspect when the tv3 voiceover person goes "We are taking a break from tv3 programming but will be back at half 2 with some obscure Steven Seagal film" (not that there is anything wrong with Steven Seagal,I'm a fan) and then..the creepy music kicks in..and then everyone is waiting with bated breath as to who the host/hostess of the show is. And let me tell you,boys and girls,there are some kooky hosts and hostesses on show.
Now,obviously,there are two kinds of caller that call up. Two very simple categories that they fall into. You have the pisstaker and you have the genuine case. See if you can guess which one is exploited more than the other? If you said "genuine case" then,gold star for you. Here are some examples (via @spookwoman)
Now,imagine hearing that guff and trying to go to bed after being told something like that? And at €2.44 a minute I might add! You can get other things cheaper at that hour of the morning (pizza of course) It's those people I feel sorry for,as they obviously are worried about whatever and they feel that being fleeced is the only way to go..probably leaves them even more flustered than before they even dialled it in.
Then,there are the people who seemingly think that a costly pisstake,is the most novel one. Sure,you can be down the pub the next night saying "Hai,I rang them psychic lads last night and called em a bollox,only cost me 19 quid for a finish" but that 19 quid is 4 pints,look at it like that. Anyways, those calls,or trolls are amusing,I think we are enamoured in these to see thse supposed psychics get their comeuppance:
Actually,now that I think of it..there is another category of caller...a bit from column A and a bit from column B...they ring up knowing they have a legit gripe and will go to any lengths to get their point across.
As you can see,these characters dont like it when someone latches onto their act and quizzes them about it. Check out my own photographic evidence from FB that within an hour,my comments were deleted and was subsequently blocked from this guys FB and Twitter feed..for the crime of...having an opinion!!
So yeah,it is a show that I feel will not be on the air for that much longer. It is intruiging in some unusual way to watch,just to see will some randomer go completely apeshit on them or to see how low will they stoop with a worried person on the other end of the phone. And if the plug is pulled on this "information service". I will have seen it coming.
