That shrill cry was something else, otherworldly. It stirred everything from deep within the recesses of my soul. Oh how I wish I could put that moment and the ensuing emotional deluge into apt words, alas I am no poet! Thankfully, Plath’s words ‘Love set you going like a fat gold watch’, dance twinkle-toed through my mind since then. I got to know him as her belly grew, as the sudden kicks protruded the stomach, and even more as his…
‘People like seeing their friends online’ is a line from The Social Network; one of my favourite Fincher films, which is saying something. I’m old enough to remember the heady days of discovering Bebo. Suddenly I was on the internet, and a whole new form of socialising opened up to me. The novelty of it; what wallpaper would I use, which photos would I use…all became pressing concerns…Getting tagged in a photo was manna for the soul, or so I thought. …
‘How can you tell if someone has run a marathon?….Don’t worry they’ll tell you.’ , is a joke I enjoy and can shamefully admit to. How I got into marathon running, I cannot say. It always held a certain allure for me. Perhaps it’s the photo of my father crossing the finish line in the eighties, pain etched across his brow. Perhaps that penchant to suffer in training drew me to it as it did The Galway Cycle. Either way I’m now…
I was never a fan of X-Factor, yet to deny its huge reach would be hipster in the extreme. I even saw families come in to the pub where I worked, to watch the drama of the live vote unfold. What exactly the draw was, I could not say. Perhaps the same reason I find the olympics so enthralling. The realisation or ruination of one’s dreams. One contestant sticks out for me; not that I can remember their name or where…
To say the past week has been eventful in our little island would be an understatement. Amongst all the deluge of NPHET being undermined by ‘Love me’ Leo, a story caught my eye. Many were up in arms about the timing of the new checkpoints, and rightly so. Yet again it seemed those trying their best, in these the most trying of times, were being accosted the most. Those in breach of regulations are more likely to do so…
”Respect the sea and the sea will respect you”, I’m told, is the mantra my grandfather lived by whilst at sea. Being a fisherman in times of yore, safety was not much guaranteed as he plumbed the depths of the Atlantic around Iveragh with lobster pots, in search of…well, lobster. The network that protects today’s seafarers was not available, to say the least. Yet even today many have fallen foul of what can sometimes be a cruel temptress…the sea. I’ve…
‘Passengers for Banteer, Millstreet, Rathmore, Killarney, Farranfore and Tralee, must change at Mallow’, is a part of the soundtrack of my youth. If the announcer was non plussed about the stops he was rattling off; nor was I at the thought of another leg. The droning PA on the train home is something I am very accustomed to. I probably have dreamt about it on occasion. My Friday itinerary was like clockwork as I made the journey south. Leave Maynooth…
‘I come to the office and get my work done, and drive for 5 minutes and I’m home’, says Declan Sugrue, as he sits resplendent in his chair, surveying his office in South Kerry. An architect by trade, with his own business, Declan is immeasurably content with his work-life balance. A bustling business and burgeoning family on the go. It was a few years ago that Declan envisaged providing office space for the remote worker in one of the most…
One of my favourite things to teach at junior cycle English is World War One poetry. Siegfried Sassoon and the tragic Wilfred Owen, in particular, provide a raw and visceral insight into the grim reality of life in the trenches. The rage and anger they felt drips off the pages by the bucketload. The haunting imagery Owen confronts us with in Dulce et Decorum Est, has the tendency to leave our jaws on the floor. Onomatopoeia has scarcely ever been so disturbing. Phrases…
Following the harrowing news over the weekend of good auld Jack’s demise, a deluge of memories of those heathy days have come swirling back to me. As they did for us all who were privy to those times, I’m sure. It shook me more than I’d anticipated. Italia ’90 was the first real time I discovered the magic of football. What a time to be alive. That match against Romania will always be the stand out one (for the occasion…