Author Archives: jillian@practicepr.ie

Uniquely Dublin

Posted on by
Reply

Ok, I didn’t win, I didn’t even make the long list but there were some 500 entries and only 10 in the long list, of which one, my good friend Robert Duffy was chosen. I enclose his entry after mine (lol – this is my blog, sorry Robert, lol)

So we were given the task of writing about Dublin, and it’s uniqueness, in just 100 words. I came up with this:

Freezing winter nights, laced with Dublin particulars, and hazed with orange lights around the Green. Slipping into a warm hostelry, sipping cold stout, the antithesis of comfort yet warming within. Oh, go on, a whiskey chaser then. Spring days come stretching slow. We are green because of our rain, ample amounts of it and temperatures mild and cunning. Sudden sunshine too, rainbows over the Spire. Tourists take quick pictures in the glare. Summer, because of calendar dates not weather, gushes over us and more green. Tourists loving it. Autumn, sometimes Indian, more often not. More rain. Repeat!

It didn’t cut the mustard!

But Robert’s did – go Robert!

What about the wonderful gush of imagination surging from the slabs of Westmoreland Street? Bright book upon book, our declamatory Pat, standing in the rain or lovely snow with his trolley and cat. Roll up; roll up for the remarkable greydraggled Mr Ingoldsby selling his pomes. He’ll cheer you up. (You’ll cheer him too.) Don’t pass by before you buy a slice of Dublin brain from yer man on Westmoreland’s pavement. He didn’t die years ago. Maybe the people who govern these sorts of things will cast him in bronze and put him back when he’s gone.

I actually think we are writing the same book – funny that!

The two short listed entries are listed on here: http://www.uniquelydublin.ie/ Well done!

 

 

 

 

Arm young people with facts, not fear

Posted on by
Reply

I was going to add my twuppence worth into the ridiculous outrage in the past few days over the ‘threesome’ article. In fairness I had a lot of fun on Twitter talking about it. I also listened to Liveline and was bemused. Have we nothing better to worry about? Yes, in fact we do: rising employment, increased repossessions, suicides, poverty, teenage bullying, stress, despair, mass emigration, lack of proper health care, people lying on trolleys in hospitals, growing polarisation between rich and poor, and that poor child who drowned yesterday. We have a lot to worry about. Providing facts about sexuality is not a bad thing. Just because you know about a certain sexual act, does not mean you have to do it. Knowledge is power. From knowledge comes choice. Ignorance only creates fear. Anyway, I don’t want to labour the point, the good people at Spunout have expressed themselves very well and I enclose their statement here.

 

Arm young people with facts, not fear.

Published: March 23, 2013

Young people are having sex whether the Sunday Independent or Deputy Michelle Mulherin like it or not.

Some of them are having sex with more than one person, and sometimes with more than one person at the one time.

Research shows the average age at which teens start to engage in sexual activity is getting younger, particularly in urban areas. HSE data from 2006 (which is now seven years old) shows the average age at which a young person has sex for the first time is 17 (both male and female).

Education needs to begin earlier than the age of first sex and it is widely accepted that sexual education in Irish schools is both of poor quality and inconsistent.

Research by the HSE shows that young people who receive a detailed and quality sex education actually wait longer to have sex for the first time.

SpunOut.ie exists to provide balanced, reliable and responsible information for 16 to 25 year olds only. The age of consent in Northern Ireland is 16, SpunOut.ie is an all-island charity.

The Sunday Independent wrongly claims we receive €250,000 in state funding. We receive €124,000 in total and this was confirmed with the journalist in question at 11.50am on Saturday March 23rd by phone.

SpunOut.ie believes in the ability of young people to make the right decision for themselves once they have access to quality and reliable information, such as the information provided by our website.

We promote safer sex to reduce the transmission of STIs and unwanted pregnancy.

Young people are bombarded with unrealistic sexual imagery through films and porn, neither of which detail the drawbacks to different forms of sexual activity.

We do not promote threesomes, we arm young people with the facts about them.

We advise young people not to be coerced or pressured into having any form of sex.

All too often, older generations avoid having conversations with their young people about difficult subjects. This is particularly true in relation to sex. Parents feel uncomfortable talking to their children about it and teachers are afraid to raise the subject in the classroom. An adult’s discomfort does not negate a young person’s right to information.

Silence does not breed confidence, instead it creates fear and confusion.

We should arm our young people with the facts and trust them to make responsible decisions.

SpunOut.ie is proud to do just that.

Divorce is a dish best served cold

Posted on by
5

A recent complaint before The Law Society would suggest warring spouses should think twice before seeking legal heavyweights to resolve matrimonial differences.

The subject of the complaint, the current Minister for Justice Alan Shatter, was unanimously and totally exonerated of all claims in the case which arose from a difficult family law dispute between Michael Izatt and Jillian Godsil. The complaint was brought by Godsil who had retained Shatter as her divorce lawyer until he came off record mid-way through her divorce proceedings. His actions prior to that point, and indeed subsequent, were the object of the long winded, but ultimately rejected, complaint.

Godsil may be known to some as the Irish divorcee who sold her house on YouTube until the banks stopped the sale. She was landed with a mortgage of some €1million on a house worth less than half that amount when her ex, returning to the UK to go bankrupt, gave the entire mortgage to his ex-wife and their two young daughters. Last month, she was served repossession papers, so she dropped the asking price of her well-known Georgian Manor House to €250,000 and has received a formal offer. However, her bank refuses to talk to her as yet and repossession hearings are proceeding. It is worth noting that the house was once valued at €1.65 million in the days of the heady Celtic Tiger and indeed she received a cash offer of €500,000 last year which the banks refused.

Of course, whatever price the house finally sells at, under Irish law, Godsil is now solely responsible for the balance of the mortgage.

Godsil’s fame, notably for being broke, was aided by a quirky video to sell the property. This went viral and her story featured in papers, online, radio and television both domestically and abroad. She was featured on American radio, Belgian TV, RTE, TV3 and most recently on BBC2’s Newsnight programme.

In all her many public interviews Godsil has said relatively little about her ex’s role in her financial demise and nothing at all about her legal adviser. The former has avoided public disapproval possibly because he is the father of their two children and she has concentrated instead on the disparity in the bankruptcy laws between the UK and Ireland. On the latter, her dissatisfaction with the legal service afforded her (a moot point, of which more later) seems not to have been given airtime as she was following a formal complaint procedure with The Law Society. If that was indeed the case, any hopes for any satisfactory conclusion were dashed this month when The Law Society utterly rejected all her causes for complaint.

The main reason for the breakdown between divorce lawyer and client appears to have arisen from advice dispensed at the beginning of the legal proceedings. Godsil and her ex were directors in a limited company whose purpose was to provide public relations services. This PR Company was run by Godsil and enjoyed lucrative revenues during the boom years. As the marriage disintegrated, Godsil was advised by Shatter to set up a new company, taking nothing from the old. He explicitly advised her in writing to remain as director in the old company as there were considerable collectibles still outstanding. Despite her misgivings, Godsil followed this advice to the letter.

Of course there is nothing so dirty as divorce. The old company without Godsil at the helm soon stopped altogether and the wounded Izatt was advised by his then law firm (he changed legal teams three times in the process of this protracted divorce) to put Godsil into the Commercial High Court for the abrogation of her fiduciary duties under the Foss Harbottle exception. This precedent basically rules that an individual cannot be director of two, competing companies. No doubt the ‘cha-ching’ of cash registers could be heard on both sides of the benches at this opening salvo.

Godsil felt increasingly unhappy that following to the letter as she saw her solicitor’s instructions had laid her open to such charges. Although Shatter argued, ultimately successfully, that the Commercial charges were an attempt to extract palimony from the wife and lodged a family case in the High Court at the same time which ultimately joined the commercial case, his advices continued to rankle with her. As time went on, she also objected to being told by her own divorce lawyer that she had indeed contravened commercial law and that it was her fault her actions laid her open to these initial commercial proceedings.

The Law Society totally upheld Shatter over Godsil’s complaint that his initial recommendation had been badly advised and exonerated him from any wrong doing for his advice. However, what cannot be denied was the rapid deterioration in the professional relationship between Shatter and his aggrieved client. Finally, Shatter requested that he come off record but refused to release her files to her new law firm.

At the point, midway if she but knew it in the torturously expensive legal proceedings, Godsil had already paid an initial sum of €4,000 as a deposit to Shatter and had borrowed a further €22,000 to pay interim bills after strong requests from the legal firm while relations were still cordial.

Despite payment of these significant sums of money and while being intimately acquainted with the downwardly spiralling nature of Godsil’s financial affairs, Shatter refused to release her files until finally ordered to by Judge Abbot. This was not without consequences as Godsil’s new legal firm were forced to act as guarantors of her debt, a position which made them very unhappy.

Godsil went to taxation (to fix final fees by the independent Taxing Master) but only managed to reduce the balance of her fees against Gallagher Shatter by approximately €5,000. She still owed some €30,000 plus. A taxing accountant hired for the purpose of representing her professed that he was so appalled by the proceedings, and upon successful reduction of her balancing liability, did not tender a fee note to Godsil. His opinion seemed to suggest Godsil had been through enough. Of course, there was more to come according to the complaint, again totally exonerated by The Law Society.

At that stage Godsil began trying to repay the balance of fees to Gallagher Shatter in installments of €500 per month but soon ran into difficulties when the firm refused to issue her with receipts. She sought advice from The Law Society who advised her that she was entitled to them, but claims that no receipts were at any stage forthcoming.

As Godsil faced into the final and protracted legal proceedings with her ex (he changed law firms as mentioned three times, sometimes failed to have a legal representative and forced delays when he did not have documents to hand) she discovered Gallagher Shatter had named her in Stubbs Gazette and moreover began debt recovery proceedings in the Circuit Court. As her current divorce solicitors were unable to represent her due to a conflict of interests, Godsil was forced to hire yet another solicitor to represent her.

Prior to this she sought to head off the fresh and unnecessary legal action by writing to Shatter and confirming that not only would she pay but she had an asset under advanced negotiations and would be in a position to clear the debt in its entirety within a matter of months. Her new divorce firm, also defacto debt collectors for Shatter, wrote to say exactly the same. However, these letters and assurances were ignored and the matter proceeded.

Godsil tried to argue to The Law Society that pursuance of the outstanding debt was vexatious as she was not denying payment, indeed would be able to pay in a very short time period and was moreover guaranteeing this assurance in writing from her legal firm. The Law Society totally upheld Shatter and denied this complaint too.

Another serious complaints rejected by The Law Society was Godsil’s claim of doubling billing. Shatter charged a consultancy fee for his time and also charged for whatever junior solicitor was present taking notes, pushing consultation fees to near four figure amounts. This was rejected as a complaint by The Law Society as these terms and conditions were clearly set out in the opening letter of appointment. Godsil tried to argue that such was her distress at her marriage breaking down she was not fully cognisant of these terms. She also argued that she could not remember actually signing this appointment letter and to her knowledge Gallagher Shatter were not able to furnish a signed copy of these terms. Her complain was rejected.

Not providing receipts initially rankled with Godsil on a professional basis, as part of the legal fees were to be borne by her company, but both professional neglect and possible noncompliance with revenue were rejected out of hand.

The other long list of complaints brought by Godsil, and rejected by The Law Society, included claims of verbal bullying during consultations (supported by family members who attended with her) and extreme rudeness by office staff, including having the phone hung up on her during one conversation with a secretary. Another twist in the tale was a phone call made by the Minister after an anonymous piece featuring Godsil ran in the Irish Independent. The article covered the dropping of interest by the Minister for his fees once he gained office. However, this article caused the Minister to ring a mutual third party and advise Godsil not to go public with their professional relationship. Godsil claimed it was a question of intimidation by the Minster. The Law Society said it was not.

Asked why she pursued her complaints through The Law Society and not through adversarial means where costs might be gained, Godsil replied that her intention was to highlight the possible abuses that the incamera rule in family law afforded solicitors. “I would not have anyone experience the lack of professional courtesy and bullying I received at the hands of my solicitor. It is an open secret in legal circles but only hard learnt by individuals such as myself. Divorce is hard enough without your solicitor attacking you.

“Having survived the long winded, painful and hugely expensive ordeal, I am moreover deeply saddened that every single one of my complaints has been rejected by the Law Society, especially the accusation of bullying,” she said.

So there the sorry tale ends. When everything was accounted for in the proceedings Godsil had nothing left over. Like the infamous Jarndyce and Jarndyce affair in Dicken’s Bleak House, when the lawyers stopped talking everything was gone in costs. Godsil seems to have been singularly unlucky in her relationships both in her initial choice of husband and subsequent divorce lawyer. Her ex husband has walked free of the million plus debt on the family home through the vagaries of inter-country commity and her long list of complaints against her divorce lawyer have been totally rejected by The Law Society.

May she have a happier experience in choosing husbands and divorce lawyers in the future.

ends

Suicide and Young People

Posted on by
Reply

Yesterday I was the funeral of a child, a 14 year old, who died by suicide. One of the most upsetting funerals I have ever attended. His sixth class teacher spoke at the end. He had us laughing about the impish ways of the young lad. But at the very end of his tribute he looked around the packed church where many of the mourners were only children themselves.

He said: “I wanted to end on a note of positivity. I wanted to give you something positive to walk away with. But as I look around this church and see the carnage and the heart broken people I cannot.” He paused. “Instead,” he said. “I will quote Martin Luther King. He said if you cannot fly, then run. If you cannot run, then walk. If you cannot walk, then crawl.But whatever you do, keep moving forward.”

I had the privilege to be part of this short and very moving video on suicide – if you have a few moments look at Edward White’s video here It is called ‘Let’s stop suicide together’

I was also privileged to be part of Norah Boran and Alan Lavender’s #DepressionHurts video here It is called ‘It starts with you’

Let’s hug our children

 

Longlisted for the Doire Press 2nd Annual International Chapbook competition

Posted on by
Reply

I would to express my thanks to the good people at Doire Press for long-listing my short story in their 2nd Annual International Chapbook competition.

The long list of entries was taken from all over Ireland, as well as England, Scotland, Canada, Australia and the States. Doire Press very kindly said the standard was very high and gave their congratulations to all the writers on the long list. The nineteen other authors are listed below. The short list will be announced on February 13, 2013.

(* Indicates a writer with multiple shortlisted stories)

Ruth Aylett (Edinburgh)

Neil Burns (Belfast)

Jodi Chilson (Idaho, US)

Graham Connors (Dublin)

Garbhan Downey (Derry)

Jillian Godsill (Wicklow)

Paddy Halligan (Cavan)

Claire Hennessey (Dublin)

Robert Higgins (Longford)

Matt Hutchinson (London)

Jay Kauffmann (Virginia, US)

Martin Keaveney (Mayo)

Brian Kirk (Dublin)

Conor McManus  (Cork)

Maeve Mulrennan (Galway)

Clodagh O’Brien (Dublin)

Eithne Reynolds (Dublin)

Maire T. Robinson (Dubin)

Dan Sheehan (Dublin) *

 

The Next Big Thing

Posted on by
5

On Wednesday 2 January my ‘Twitter/Crime/Modest’ friend Susan Condon tagged me in an online blogging initiative called The Next Big Thing which is a series of questions about writers’ next projects. The idea is to draw attention to writers and their blogs and to lead readers to writers they might not have come across before.

I have given Susan three labels as one is not enough. We first met as strangers in 2011 on the steps of the Westin having recorded a Christmas charity single that went into the Irish charts at number eight. Four of us started a conversation literally as we were leaving and have been in frequent contact ever since. Twitter is great for making new friends in real life.

Crime is of course Susan’s thing. So much so, her husband sometimes lies awake nights wondering if he is safe.  Recently I had a very funny conversation with Susan and another friend and crime writer Lousie Philips at Maria Duffy’s book launch. The two girls regaled me with stories of how they searched for gory details online on how to kill someone, what happens when you stick knives in funny places and then about bodies decomposing. Their children were less than pleased their kind mothers were engaging in such research and even worse, writing about it. So armed, I returned home to my two teenagers and said wasn’t it better that I was writing about sex and not horrible serial killers and the like. Both my teenager children said they would categorically prefer if I wrote about twelve year olds being killed! Hmmm.

Finally, Susan is one of the most modest people I know. She was won loads of awards and prizes and you’d have to stick knives into funny places before she would tell you. I am looking forward to her book very much. The little snippets sound thrilling. She is also a great supporter and friend and compassionate woman. Even if she writes about murder most foul!

 

My Next Big Thing:

Can I be greedy and say I am working on two next big things? Can I? Can I? They are both so different that it is like inhabiting two very different worlds. The first is a non-fiction book on the impact a severely disabled child has on a family; the way the lives of the parents and siblings are affected. It is a heart breaking book and the family were very honest with me. It is very painful and does not have a happy ending.

The second is of course a sex book. Absolutely salacious. I may have to publish under a pseudonym. However, I believe my book has a lot to say about a woman dating in her 40s post-divorce. Unlike the very obvious 50Shades, my sex book really looks at dating issues and then of course has lots of sex!

What is the working title of your book?

The non-fiction book is tentatively called Waiting for the Gift – in direct contrast to the notion that having a severely disabled child is blessing. Love is there but the burden is overpowering. My sex book has the working title of … My Sex book, lol.

Where did the idea come from for the book?  

The non-fiction book happened as I was approached by the family who wanted to share their experiences, good and bad, to help people facing the same issues and also to open the eyes of people, such as myself, who literally had no idea. My sex book was born from necessity. I was broke and decided that my poverty must be overcome. Sex sells!

What genre does your book fall under?  

Gift – the human condition with heart breaking aspects and some self-help and growth aspects. I guess it might also be considered a biography of a family in stress.

Sex – mainstream women’s commercial literature with plenty of good things to say about the human condition. Aha – there are some similarities between my two books aside from a common author

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?      IFTAs2012 019

Michael Fassbender can play the brother in the first book and the lover in the second. In fact, he can play all the male parts! Should Mr Fassbender agree to play the main lead in my Sex book, I think it only fair I should act opposite him.

 

 

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?  

Gift – uncovering the myths surrouding disability and the impact on the family

Sex – how to live, survive and have fun post-Divorce

 How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?  

Gift took the guts of a year as I interviewed and wrote. Sex took six weeks for the first draft – I wrote like a woman possessed

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?   

I don’t believe there is a comparable book with Gift, not to my knowledge anyway.

Sex – of course 50shades but with a cold dose of reality and a very likeable 40 year old main protagonist

Who or what inspired you to write this book?   

I was invited to interview and recount Gift. I found it a real privilege to do so and found it very, very sad.

Sex was inspired by life but driven by poverty!

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?  

Some friends have been kind enough to read early proofs of both my books. With Gift a friend who works with siblings affected by disability in families said she found it very powerful and true. It is a story often forgotten and rarely told.

With the Sex book, the general reaction is for women to book their husbands into hotels and for men to take cold showers. I say no more….

When and how will it be published? 

Both are with my agent. I was very happy to give him Gift and really look forward to hearing back. I was mortified to give him Sex – poor man, what did he do to deserve to have to read that!

Just before I hand over to my tag team I wanted to add…

My life this century has been a little bit interesting. I write a blog which reflects that and also my latent activism. Sadly I have been severely impacted by divorce and debt and struggle to survive financially with my two great kids. I believe I have been given a voice and should use it. I have a huge number of people who support me but even more importantly are those people that I don’t know but who are in the same pickle as myself. One might fall, but together we can create change.

Or as citizen Smith once said …come the revolution! Lol

My other books are available on Amazon or Lulu

And now over to my diverse and interesting fellow writers – watch their posts on Wednesday January 16…

Tommy Collison

Tommy is an Irish student, blogger and writer. He writes and listens to a lot of music. He is a secondary school student in Limerick.

Links

https://twitter.com/tommycollison

www.tommycollison.net

 

Mary Bradford

Mary Bradford is a published writer of short stories in magazines, newspapers and anthologies both in Ireland and the USA. She had completed her first novel ‘A Thorn in my Side’. Her first short story collection, ‘A Baker’s dozen’ is now on sale on Amazon, Createspace and Smashwords in paperback, Kindle and ebook format.

Links

https://twitter.com/marytbrad

http://marytbradford-author.blogspot.ie/

 

Patricia (Trish) Nugent

Trish lives in Terenure, Dublin, and is a writer of poetry,memoir and short stories.

A part time actress, Trish has appeared in Fair City, Love Hate and several Movies and TV commercials.  She is a full time wife and mother of three sons and one daughter. She is a member of Rua Red writers group and An Cosan Drama group in Rua Red.

In 2011 Trish represented ‘Platform One’ for social Inclusion week by performing her own monologue ‘The Bisto Tin’ onstage at the Civic Theatre.  Presently Trish is compiling a poetry and memoir collection.

 

Links:

https://twitter.com/Trish_Nugent

trishnugentwriter.wordpress.com

 

 

Happy 2013 – Please may we have some more kindness …

Posted on by
1

I always think the first week back in January is the toughest. The Christmas decorations are still lying about, there are leftover mince pies in the canteen if anyone could stomach them and we travel to and from work in darkness. We spent the weeks leading up to Christmas and the New Year in a mad panic to see all our friends, spend time with our family and text the world and his wife broadcast New Year wishes.

Then suddenly it stops. No more crazy shopping, gluttonous eating and seasonal drinking. And our wallets are considerably diminished. Before the darkness was lit by crazy lighting of every kind, now these are dismantled and all we have is car lights and windscreen wipers sweeping rain and oncoming beams out of our eyes.

And someone says, Can you see the stretch in the evenings?

Just before Christmas I was interviewed by the Wicklow People to ask about my New Year’s Resolutions and I attach the copy here. I have five resolutions in total. As I stand on the far side of Christmas and firmly in the New Year, I think my last one is the most important – Kindness; having the grace to receive it and the energy to pass it forward. I think 2013 will be a very tough year for many people. I believe it will be harder than 2012 as we face into the real impacts of the budget. I implore everyone to look to the right of them and to the left of them. There will be people – family, friends and colleagues – who are suffering real privations and enormous stresses and crippling hardships. They may not be able to share their suffering but if we can be kind, perhaps we can help.

Now abideth Faith, Hope and Charity (Love). These three; but the greatest of all is Love.

1. Fitness

2012 was a fun year for fitness. I was active in the local gym in Tinahely, joined a steps class and kicks cardio classes which were a lot of fun. I also took up tag rugby which was a hoot! In 2013 I want to keep up these sports and definitely join another summer league for Tag. I had forgotten how much fun team sports are and really enjoyed my time in Gorey Rugby club.

2. Singing

2012 was a fun year with my choir, the Wolseley Singers in Tullow. We practiced most Monday nights, sang in the National Concert Hall with Paddy Cole and had a lot of fun. I know things were bad when I sang guide songs at our after concert party! Singing is better than sex and chocolate according to Maria Doyle Kennedy and what can I say – I’m going to be doing lots more singing in 2013

3. Writing

Every writer battles for time to write and can make excuses why they don’t just write. In 2012 I drafted two books, one fiction and one non-fiction and I hope to do a whole lot more in 2013. I am also blogging a lot more on jilliangodsil.com. I think I have found another thing to rival the enjoyment of singing – writing!

4. Activism

I became a reluctant activist in 2012. I found myself ‘soapboxing’ whenever I got a chance. I don’t know what the future holds for me, my kids or this country, but I feel passionately it is my obligation to speak out about injustice. My main concern is the rising number of suicides over financial distress. As this subject is very close to home for me, I want to keep talking and trying to help others. Financial failure is not a shameful thing. Stuff happens. As I argue for better and more humane debt laws in this country, I also believe in living even as we survive. I have been helped by many kind people and I encourage people to look to their neighbours  – maybe they need help too.

5. Kindness

I was very lucky in being the recipient of many acts of kindness in 2012. I hope to be able to pay it forward in 2013.

 

 

 

My Sister was Singing for Hiliary Clinton

Posted on by
6

My sister was singing for Hillary Clinton.  I was attending a reading In Trinity College. Late of course, I crawled my way through the rain-inspired traffic that choked the Dublin streets.  Hillary’s convey passed us with a full police escort. We pulled over by Lesson Street as the forerunner guards on high-powered bikes cleared a path through the steamed up, bumper-to-bumper cars. We drummed impatient fingers on steering wheels as official saloons, corporate buses and defence force coaches forged a path like geese through the built up crush of vehicles. As they passed, we swarmed back into the road and carried on with a grim determination as if sheer dint of will would force the car in front to move faster, or to move at all.

My sister was singing for Hillary Clinton. I was hoping to reach Trinity College by 7pm but the traffic and the rain and the convoy were all stealing my precious time away. As I rounded onto Dawson Street, I saw more yellow flashing lights and guards and cars and yellow tape tied across the road. The traffic was corralled down Molesworth Street, which suited me as my destination carpark lay this way, but even as I stretched my rubber neck I could not see the cause of this new and significant disturbance.

The Arts Block door was closed, abutted as it did up against the taped-off junction. I hurried around to the front entrance for Trinity and heard a man ask a guard. “Was anyone hurt,” he said. The guard replied,” Yes,” but refused to give any further information. I hurried on, for I was very late. My sister was signing for Hiliary Clinton.

Racing across the cobble stones, I made the Arts Block at 7:15pm and gained the Edmund Burke Lecture Theatre at 7:20pm. The object of my attention, Sam Shepard, was just being announced. I sat down, warm and flustered, happy not to have missed anything, upset for the accident outside.

I was listening to readings by Sam Shepard. His voice was low and quiet and sometimes I strained to hear. He ran his hand through his hair a lot. He wore glasses and looked up at us, the audience, as he read. He eyes raked first one side of the auditorium, then the other, sharing the largesse of his view.

He made us laugh in places and we saw, rather than heard, the insides of American diners, wood clad houses and porches overlooking lawns. Sometimes his voice rose a little as he launched into the tune of his prose – when you die he repeated. When you die, everything is gone, you see angels, you meet your maker, it’s the end of your life.

My sister was singing for Hilliary Clinton and I was listening to Sam Shepard. I wondered if his car had passed her journey into town.

The cold of a grey, wet, Irish Winter night had gone into Mr Shepard. He sniffed as he read: audible and interruptive.  Towards the end of the hour a harsh female voice from the middle of the theatre told him there was a tissue on the desk. We collectively held our breaths. From her tone, it was hard to hear if she was being considerate or accusatory. Either way, it smacked of rudeness, and we only let go our collective breath when he swatted her comment away as if a fly. He carried on, but sniffed less.

Then he invited his long-time friend and musical legend Patti Smith onto stage with him. She read a piece they had written together, fully clothed and in bed one night. Then they sang a ballad. His creaky voice strangely attractive and her fluid tone melding well in harmony. I wondered if she should be singing for Hilliary Clinton in Dublin that night, instead of my sister.

Afterwards, I shook his hand and told him I had no idea he was so droll. Sam said, “Droll?” “Yes, droll,” I replied and imagined I detected a dislike of the word.  But I shook his hand firmly to tell him how much I enjoyed his droll prose.

The Arts Block entrance was open again and I crossed out beside the tape. It was like a scene from a film set. Two buses, a tent and police cars stacked across the empty street.

I was now to attend an Art House in Dalkey. A friend of a friend, Gerard Byrne, had opened his home to showcase his paintings. A self-taught artistic genius, his paintings were vibrant and colourful. His charcoals were intense and detailed.  I was greeted by his mother who did not know my friend. “Is he handsome?” she asked. Startled, I replied in the affirmative.  Regardless, she fetched me a glass of wine and I wandered through the rooms. The paintings covered every stretch of wall, downstairs and upstairs. I found the charcoal art the most haunting. There was a sketch of a house that I wanted to buy, had I but the funds.

The Babylon sisters sang, their voices melting together like the finest chocolate surprise, all dark and gooey and rich. We joked about the wine. Had Gerry purchased it prior to the budget? We spoke of the country and it floundering under a sea of debt. I mentioned I had shaken Mr Shepard’s hand, had complimented Patti Smith on her singing and had witnessed some form of accident bad enough to cordon off one of the busiest streets in Dublin. I forgot to mention that my sister was singing for Hilliary Clinton.

I reached home at one, tired but quiet. I stacked the children’s dishes into the dishwasher. I put on a kettle for my hot water bottle.  I let the dog out for a run. I turned on my PC and checked my mail. I learnt then a man had fallen under a bus on Dawson Street and had been decapitated.  Foul play was suspected. I had seen the bus and the tent that covered his remains.

My sister had sung for Hilliary Clinton, I had shook Sam Shepard’s hand, complimented Patti Smith on her singing and had seen a charcoal painting I wanted but could not afford. And a man had lost his head and life under the 145 bus on Dawson Street.

 

 

 

 

 

Three things I learnt at Trailblazers

Posted on by
Reply

The first is that I am not afraid. I wanted to rise up from my seat in the upper Special Criminal Court house and call it out. Colm O’Gorman was speaking. It felt a bit like the eponymous Jeffers’ book: Feel the fear but do it anyway. My heart pounded and I wanted to stand up and call it out but it wasn’t my time and maybe I had confused my emotion with a film from Hollywood. But I felt it very strongly.

The second is the level of propaganda promulgated by the status quo. When Ross Maguire spoke he talked of giving ordinary home owners a break, a time out. He wanted a dignified mechanism that could be implemented without the mortgage holder having to beg for help or worse not been listened to at all. Terms such as debt forgiveness and moral hazard are used by …bankers. How dare they? The purveyors of Usury should not be allowed to dictate the ethics of our society. For that is at the very nub of this problem. We are a society of individuals who have come together to create our world. Service providers, such as finance houses, are there to fit into our cultural, moral and ethical rules. Bankers should not dictate what is right in our society. Politicians are there to regulate how various different service providers in our society behave. We, the people, elect the politicians to make the laws, not the banks.  So we have to stop listening to banking propaganda and believing it to be true, especially when they use terms laden with emotive meanings. If the financial processes in our society are broken, then we need to fix them.  We have been brain washed to believe the rapacious banker who evicts a family from their home is right. We didn’t believe that when the English did it, so why do we believe it when our own do it?

The third thing I learnt is that people are caring. I sat next to a couple who were both self-employed and have a large mortgage. They were doing okay. Thankfully they were able to meet repayments but it wasn’t easy. These are the very people we are told who will not have ‘debt forgiveness’ or ‘debt breaks’ or any leniency for families in financial trouble. We are told that we cannot look afresh at debt for those in trouble on account of this couple and their elk. Bankers and politicians tell us that the people paying their mortgages will not countenance that sort of help for people in default. Well, guess what? That is not true. The couple I met were very concerned. They expressed great worry for home owners in debt. They wanted those people to be helped, to be given a time out, a break. There but for the grace of God was their view. If their neighbour was in danger of losing their home, then they wanted to see that family helped, not thrown to the wolves. “Why should we wish to penalise families who are in danger of losing their homes?” they asked wide eyed. “We would want to see them helped.”

I literally sat there with my mouth open. This couple were not unique. They do not want to see people’s lives ruined and their homes taken from them. I believe there are more caring and compassionate people like this in Ireland than those mythical vindictive people we are told about. It is a propaganda of the most damning to stop us as a society questioning the rights of the banks over the people. This couple are the future of Ireland; kind, compassionate, hard-working and caring. And do you know, they are not unique. They are quintessentially Irish. What is not Irish is this culture of hitting the vulnerable and making us all afraid to question how we run our country and how we live our lives. We are no longer under the yolk and we need to take back our autonomy from those who would protect their ivory towers and hide behind banking rhetoric and lies.

This budget is yet another example of the polarisation of our society. This blog is not about the budget – but there is no doubt that the rich are protected and the poor are affected. There were no cuts to the politicians’ salaries and pensions and indeed their expenses will rise with the vouched route. Turkeys voting for Christmas comes to mind.

Finally, (and a sneaky fourthly) I learnt from Maria Doyle Kennedy that singing is better than sex and chocolate. If you don’t believe me, watch it here

 

Bright Lights Big City

Posted on by
Reply

It was a cold and frosty night but the American Lifeguard, dressed only in shorts, tee shirt and flipflops, stood aloft in his high chair and called constantly through his megaphone. “Do not go into the water,” he repeated. The crowd, Irish and wrapped up in scarves and coats, laughed and stamped their collective feet against the cold.  A number of women wore very high heels combined with belt-short skirts and their bare legs shivered in sympathy with the lifeguard’s. No one was in any danger of going into the water, not that there was any in the city centre location.

 

The queue was lined up for the Jameson Cult film night in the Tivoli Theatre on Frances Street. Previous screenings in the Cult series had included Snatch, Alien and Reservoir of Dogs. Attendance was by invitation only and we, my friend and I, had gained our entrance through a competition run by WorldIrish. We joined the queue and soon spotted another actor roaming alongside, dressed in cutoffs and oversized glasses. Chief Brody was on hand to keep an eye on things. This caused more laughter and talk and we made some temporary friends in the people in the queue next to us.

 

Soon the line moved and we entered into a different world. The theatre had been totally dressed in Jameson Cult Film bunting and decorated to resemble the famous American seaside town.

 

 

The iconic poster welcoming the 4th of July tourists was plastered across one wall. Cocktails of all kinds, whiskey-based of course, were proffered once we got inside.

 

 

The DJ played some tracks and there was a palpable air of excitement. We were all keen to see the big white.There was a regular queue of well-known faces posing for photographs on the Jameson Wall of Fame. Rugby players Tom Sexton, Tom Denton and Devin Toner lined up along with other celebrities including actor David Coffey and TV presenters Liam McCormack and Lottie Ryan. My friend and I bunched in and we did the same. We’ll be famous one day too!

 

 

By nine the atmosphere was electric and we made our way into the auditorium. Given the dense nature of the crowd I had to sit in the row ahead of my friend. I spotted Darragh Doyle @DarraghDoyle of WorldIrish seated to the right of me and I waved my thanks. As the lights went down and the film began I soon discovered why people go to scary films with friends, as jumping or involuntarily screaming at different points is very embarrassing when sitting alone.

The film was supplemented by actors and they seamlessly integrated into the onscreen drama, using the whole theatre as their stage. I had forgotten just how powerful the film Jaws had been and how deeply it was etched on my psyche. I remember the Get out of the water bits and the music of course. I remember the We’ve got to get a bigger boat lines but I had totally forgotten the scene where Quint tells the story of the sinking of The Indianapolis after it delivered the bomb. His story took up when the boat had been sunk. So secret was its mission that no distress message was sent. The men floated in the water in circles fighting off the sharks. Sometimes they won, sometimes the sharks won. Actually, the sharks were always winning and picked off the men at will. Finally, after a number of days, a plane spotted the wreckage and so began an agonising slow rescue. It was then, said Quint, as he waited for his turn for rescue, that he felt true fear. Eleven hundred men went into the water but only 316 came out.

What shocked me was that I have been telling that story for years. I use it to illustrate how the re-injection of hope, into a situation where everything seems lost, can trigger a deeper sense of fear. The replacement of apathy and loss with hope, but not certain hope, is very scary. There is so much more to lose when we dare to believe. I have told this story when talking about debt, love, ambitions, belief – so many things as fear is only real when hope is present. I thought I had read the story is a yellowed Readers’ Digest in my aunt’s house but had totally forgotten its actual origin. It was a strange sense of reverse déjà vu.

At the end of the film where Chief Brody, now alone on the boat, aims at the shark hoping to blow up the compressed air tanks, the young actor in cutoffs climbed onto projected scaffolding in front of the screen. As Ray Scheider fired onscreen, so too the actor on stage fired and special effects saw water splashing up in response. With the final successful shot, the shark exploded and we, the audience, were drenched in a cascade of water. The laughter was loud and the audience was wet. I automatically assumed the crash position – much good it did me as my reaction was slower than the shower. My friend jerked backwards but suffered the same drenching. Only one had a wet front, the other a wet back!

We travelled home then, although the DJ was only getting warmed up, for we had miles to go. Still laughing we drove through the bright lights of Stephens Green and as we waited at one set of lights, my friend spotted a car full of men trying to get our attention beside us. Roll down the window they gestured and I did. However, rather than the admiring glances of potential suitors or messing from stag party males, we were faced by plain clothes guards good naturedly informing me that I had forgotten to turn on my headlights. I thanked them and explained I hailed from the country now and was no longer used to the bright lights of the city. Except when the cameras were rolling!

Lights, Camera, Action!