UNKNOWINGLY JOINING THE GREAT UNWASHED

I've just come back from a lovely walk around Bray, where I live. As I passed my local church I decided to pop in for some quiet reflection, which didn't turn out to be very quiet as there was the daily gathering of middle aged and elderly men and women doing their novenas at the top of their voices.

What got to me though, was that again as I went to bless myself at the font on entering and leaving, both of them were empty. Now, I must of had a funny or disgruntled look on my face, because a middle aged woman who was entering turned to me and said, they've stopped filling them.

Why? Is there a shortage of holy water or more precisely priests to bless it, I wondered.

She went on to say, that the junkies had been washing their syringes in the fonts.

Now, I'm all for live and let live and peace and good will to all men, but when the great unwashed and those under the unrelenting scourge of drugs start utilising my holy water, I must protest... Yes, in India everyone goes into the Gangees together on holy days. But that's a fast flowing river, where the effluent and grime from a couple million people all bathing at once ends up, is anyone's guess. But it doesn't linger in a fetid little ceramic pool.

How long have they been doing it?(Is this a national problem?) I've visited churches in some of the more hard-up areas of Dublin. Because, no matter where you are a church is a sanctuary where everyone is equal in the eyes of god.

There are things we're not supposed to do in church, according to the bible. Lend money , barter or trade on it's grounds... Ha, I've been to churches in the UK where they have social clubs with bars on the church grounds. My own one has a coffee shop on it's grounds. Commit crime, churches are regularly robbed, hence why the majority are locked and only opened for a certain period of time each day. Dan Brown's characters seem to think murder in a church is ok.

So I suppose junkies washing their syringes in the fonts isn't a new low, lets hope that's all their doing. Good lord, I've seen a few homeless people sleep in the porch of my local place of worship, but are they using the facilities at the door too, to wash... Oooooohhh. Maybe I should go and place a bar of soap next to the fonts, toothbrush, mouth-wash and a towel...

Ok, so I maybe coming across as very un-christian, but see how christian any you would be. If you or any of your loved ones contracted something because one of these clowns, decided it was clever to wash before or after shooting up. Yes I'll always encourage hygiene, especially with H1-N1 running rife and with more and more institutions providing dispensers on their premises.

But this takes the biscuit, It's not as if a clean syringe is going to cost you anything, most if not all drop-in centres will give them out free. So I must deduce that in this case the junkies in my home town are just down right lazy..

OUR KENNEDY MOMENT

They say every generation has it's "Kennedy Moment", that being able to recall with almost super-human clarity where you were and what you were doing at the exact time you heard about JFK's assassination. My own generation has had two "Kennedy Moments", those being Diana's death and 911.

The generation before was of course the Kennedy one, but there are some who may say Elvis's death was a "Kennedy Moment" too. Then the previous generation is rather harder to Clarify, Churchill's death maybe.

So where were you on September 11th 2oo1? Me, I was at my job with Bord Gais(Irish Gas Board) in their south county Dublin offices, manning the Emergency leak telephone lines, when we heard that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. No one knew what type of plane, so we assumed it was a small Cessna or something like that. But then people who were in the canteen downstairs came up and said it was a commercial plane and the building was on fire. It had been a busyish morning on the phones, but after the first plane went in the calls dried-up, everyone was glued to the TV news.

I went down to the canteen on my lunch and stood watching the sight on the TV in the corner..I got my meal and sat down facing the screen, as I was tucking into it, I watched the other plane hit. At first just like the newscasters, I thought we were seeing a rerun on the pictures coming from the American stations. But then it dawned on us that both towers were now burning.. I've never witnessed an execution. But that day along with millions of others I saw 59 innocent victims die right there infront of my eyes(this was akin to the German soldiers marching their victims into the gas chambers, there was no way out for those souls), I couldn't finish my meal.

Ok I can also say I watched the towers fall, so I again witnessed along with the rest of us 2,628 people lose their lives trying to escape. Before that day too I'd never seen a "Jumper", we saw a few of them. Poor desperate people trapped above the impact points to which there was no chance of rescue or escape.

This year is the 8th anniversary of the events of that day, in 2002 I wrote a poem in memory of all those who were killed in the twin towers, lest we forget the victims in the Pentagon and on united 93, it's for them too.

This is the first time it's been published, despite trying to get it onto poetry.com alongside a previous award winner of mine.

IT CAME FROM THE AIR


I crossed the marble flooring as ground beneath us shook,
There by elevators a phantom of my partner I mistook,
Then briefly in an instant they’d gone again from there,
Now where they stood, terror and panic filled the air air air….

Disfigured and tormented wraiths ran screaming from the stairs,
Outside the world was raining crimson and darkness filled the Air air air.

I dialled the phone upon my desk,
Mum I love you,
I said with despair despair despair….

Sam’s mobile rang out,
And with broken heart and tears,
I said to a recording, take care, care, care

Across the hall in my bosses’ office they did come,
Two frightened souls whose escape was in one last affair affair Affair….

The office now filled with tears, as we knew our plight,
By the window one young man looked back and said,
I’ll see you there, there, there

As smoke filled my lungs I made one final call, to see if they could help us,

but as I tried to dial my mind it went all numb,
For the number of the fire dept and date were all in,
Nine one one one one one one ………


Adrian Murphy (c) 2oo2

THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL COST OF REJECTION

I'm sitting here in Bray writing this blog, less then a mile from where in the early hours of Sunday morning last, the 16th August. Two young men lost their lives in a vicious knife attack. Over the weekend in Ireland alone there where four stabbing incidents. the other two where in Balinrobe Co. Mayo on the west coast.

The details surrounding the fatal attack in Bray are sketchy due to the fact that the two main witnesses are still being treated in hospital. Jennifer Hannigan a 22 year old girl who was the ex girlfriend of Shane Clancy the attacker and second fatal victim and dating Sebastian Crean the first victim. Was so viciously attacked that the knife broke while still in her back, she's since undergone surgery to remove it.

According to Fine Gael the main opposition party in the Dail, the number of knife attacks in Ireland has increased by 300% between 2003 - 2007, although it has dipped slightly in the past year, but never the less it is still on the rise.

The thing that is clear about the Bray incident, is that is was driven by jealousy.

What is it about the youth of today that they find rejection so hard? Is it all down to the media, where falling in love is portrayed as being easy, when in real life it takes time and a bit of work from both parties to nurture a relationship. Or is it fuelled by "shoot-em ups" and games like "Grand theft Auto" which portray the taking of life for an innocuous event as fair game.

Yes, breaking up is hard to do, we've all done it or had it done to us, but I've never felt like going and killing my Ex's. On the contrary, I've wanted them to come back, change their minds or forgive me and take me back. But if anyone did anything to them I'd stand to their defence and do serious harm to the perpetrator. But I and the majority of people I know could never harm someone they once held feelings for or may even still do.

How are we supposed to deal rejection? Me I'll play soppy love songs from Ronan Keating, Air Supply, "Ole Blue Eyes" and Deano... Have a month to six week Bridget Jones moment... Others will hit the drink to drown their sorrows. This has it's own dire side effects, which can lead to confrontational situations with the ex.

The reports in the media suggest that Shane Clancy was depressed. So does it mean that this generation are a lot mentally weaker then previous generations. Do we have more more stresses in our lives then our parents did? They might say life is easier for this generation.

back in their days your main line of communication was the landline, you made an appointment to meet a friend hours or days in advance. Or you even wrote a letter which took anything from a couple of days to a week to get somewhere, Now-a-days, we are in constant communication. Everything is done in a nano second. Emails, texts, etc. Your every sodding living breathing experience is telegraphed across the ether to friends acquaintances and even total strangers who are friends of friends of friends, via social networking sites and texts and tweets.

Back in our parents generation you had a "Circle of Friends"... It was like a golf club, you almost had to go through a Spanish Inquisition style interview to be accepted into the inner circle. Secrets were kept within the group and if you told those secrets to someone outside, you ran the risk of being exiled.

So as I wind up this piece, I send my condolences and thoughts to the three families affected by this tragedy. The Crean's whose second son Dylan, Sebastian's older brother was injured when he went to his assistance. The Hannigan's, we wish Jennifer like Dylan a speedy recovery, though the scars may heal eventually over time, it's the emotional ones which will be the hardest to get past. Finally to the Clancy's, no one will blame you for what happened. Shane may have been your son, but you can never know what is going through your child's mind every hour of the day.

Maybe Dickens said it best, "In the little world in which children have their existence... There is nothing so finely perceived or so finely felt as injustice..."

A TESTING TIME IN THE PAST

It's been one of those weeks, you know the ones where nothing goes right and it seems all your friends are having more fun then you are.

But I suppose I mustn't grumble... I have my health, I'm not exactly broke and my friends and those important in my life are keeping intouch with me. I was told recently that I'm a fine example of how to over come adversity and keep it together. I'd be the first to admit that there are others who have buckled under the strain of losing there jobs and trying come to terms with the endless let- downs and knock backs that is the job market these days. Only in February I attended the funeral of a work colleague who had taken his own life, he was 38.

Suicide is still a taboo subject in Ireland but studies show that it is on the rise among men aged 15–34 having increased from 11.6% in 1980 to 44.2% in 2003. Compared to other European countries, Ireland has a higher suicide rate among young men and less among older people. (Health Report Board Study- Irish Examiner 2007).

I could write a book on the crazy state of affairs that is job hunting in Ireland today. Only this week I attended an interview for a Reservations Sales Agent with a south county Dublin car hire firm.

The first thing that shocked me was, that in 2009!!! Someone still thinks an aptitude test is acceptable. Talk about the land that time forgot. I was advised I had 15 minutes to complete these 4 pages of questions.

The first page, which is included in the time was general information on me!!! Er these guys had already seen my CV, so they knew my name, where I lived... Ok so it asked how long I'd been driving and had I any convictions or points. But this could have been asked during the interview or during the application stage.

Next was maths or arithmetic for those of the "old school". Printed in bold across the top of the page was "NO CALCULATORS"!!! Yes like mobile phones, we have become slaves to technology. How many important phone numbers can you recite off the top of your head. I know people who don't even know their mobile number!!! I can recite my mobi and my home number, ok so I was around when we didn't have mobiles.(No I'm not showing my age)

But maths is not the strongest area for a lot of people. I can add, multiply, subtract... er yes but I was a little fuzzy on big numbers from small numbers. I could recite what I learned by rote, "six from zero you cannot take... Six from ten ... carry down the one..." That's what I remembered. Then there was percentages... Ah Jesus!!! I feared looking down the page for finding everyone's classroom nightmare, Algebra!!!! But percentages without a calculator? Ok 10% is one thing 25% of a price is divide by 4 then take it away. Supposedly I got it wrong. But I just checked on the calculator(for peace of mind)... I was right!!!

The only way you will be without a calculator in this day and age is if a) your stuck in the middle of the Gobi desert without any battery on your phone. What type of percentage are you trying to do then? You have greater things to worry about, if your trying to barter for water from a Nomad Just pay what he's asking.

b) Your at the office when a thermo-nuclear war is declared and some sort of Electro Magnet Pulse(EMP) device has been detonated near you. Again Fight or Flight reactions do not require you to work out a percentage of anything. As the saying goes "lets get the flock outta here.."

The next page was problem solving.... Oh Christ!! What relevance did this have to renting cars... questions like fill in the missing number from this sequence, or a watch loses this amount of time over 12 days how much does it lose in a day?... By this stage I was losing the will to live.

The final page was the Piece De Resistance... "Stupid Questions" as I call them, things like: Does England have a 4th of July? Or you have one match, and enter room with a oil lamp, gas lamp and kindling, which do you light first? Ha! Pass the Valium..

I didn't get the last page finished, because the interviewer walked back into the room, probably early but I wasn't going to quibble. She went down the answer sheet she had and ticked an X'd here and there. Then she started the interview. A few minutes later an older gentleman entered the room, he introduced himself as the MD. He then took up my CV and took over the interview, a classic "Good Cop, Bad Cop" scenario.

His first question was, are you working? There's 500,000 out of work at this moment. If I was in gainful employment I wouldn't be going after such a lowly paid job. So no.

His next barrage was where do you live? Who do you live with? Do you have family? Whoa!!! Stop the bus, firstly the address and town I live in was printed clearly at the top of my CV. As for who I live with and whether I have dependents or not comes under equality laws. You can't ask this question of a woman and the same applies to a man. In hindsight, I should have stopped the interview and corrected him. But I smiled sweetly and answered.

Just as quickly as he'd entered he left, saying something about the phone call he had to take. I didn't ask him to leave them on hold. His interruption was pointless as he seriously needs to go on an interviewing refresher course.

The original interviewer then wrapped up with a brief job description, shook my hand and made small talk as she walked to the front door. As I left I swear I saw an ark parked outside the door.

FLYING COMMENTS

I'm sitting here tossing a 20 cent coin, I always do this when someone makes a ridiculous complaint. Not that I don't complain myself, but having spent a good few years in various service industries, I can sympathise with the person on the other side of the counter, when there's a delay or breakdown which affects me. 95% of the time it's none of their fault, but being the face of the organisation they work for they have to smile sweetly and try explain the problem, usually with very little info on the exact cause.

I've just returned from a lovely weekend in London, where I attended a family birthday. There should be health warnings on these weekends. You leave fresh faced, touchdown meet and greet all the "rellies" you haven't seen in ages. Drink to every bloody thing going, from the French Revolution to Palin for president. Then the day after the event you're sapped of all energy. For this weekend, I was uptil 4am on Saturday morning then in bed by 12am on the Saturday night!!!! I'm bloody 39, if I was at home I'd be running to the doctor, if I was in bed that early(Swine-Flu...My Ass).

Anyway there I was yesterday on a Ryanair flight home that was delayed. Some people will say that's nothing new, to me and my experiences of this great airline, it's a rarity. No one complained about this openly, but when we had completed the mad tight fisted scramble for seats( no one pays for Priority Boarding, but they complain bitterly when we can't sit with their loved ones, some might say that's a god send). As I was settling into my seat the bloke opposite hails the stewardess and says, I'd like to complain. My eyes go towards heaven, he goes onto the say... wait for it, the Stairs to the plane were too wobbly and his daughter missed a step!!!!!

For the love of god, how anally repressed do you have to be. If he'd thought this through logically, Ryanair don't actually own the mobile steps we boarded on, it's BAA at Gatwick. So going to a foreign stewardess whose trying her best to get us seated and away in 25 minutes... this is entering funny farm territory. This guy is probably the same chap who complains to the bed company if he stubs his toe in the morning. There are people out there who find fault with anything, these are the people you just want to take outside and give em a good slap!!(I'm not condoning violence, but some idiots like this ask to be taken in hand and if not slapped hard then Sectioned).

So what did our nice Latvian stewardess do? Smiled sweetly and asked him to write a letter. He said he would... Coz he obviously has nothing better to do then keep the Ryanair Customer service dept. laughing, can you imagine how many of these letters they receive each week. A car hire firm I worked for previously used to post the best(or Stupidest, more appropriately) on the wall of the office for all to see. It was a real tonic, having a bad day, go on up to the CS Dept. and laugh your bloody socks off.

So to the idiotic chap on flight Fr117 from Gatwick to Dublin on Sunday 26th of July. Get a F***ing life... Better still go fly with an inordinately expensive competitor, coz their are plenty of others willing to pay the €5 return. Oh and from all your friends at Ryanair's Customer Service Dept. Thank you for making their Monday a little brighter.

The 20 cent? Is for you, to give someone a call who gives a bloody damn, although with the advent of mobile phones does it cost 20 cent?

ANGELS AND DEMONIC PARISHIONERS

As I write this piece, the annual Bray festival is in full swing, lastnight I attended a wine tasting in a local bar and then went down to the Italian street Party just off the seafront. Amidst the wine, pasta and the enchanting Italian music, I could just imagine Dan Brown lurking in the shadows taking notes and breathing in the atmosphere of this large north Wicklow town.

For if you rise above the rooftops and look west you will see the imposing edifice of the Church of the Most Holy Redeemer, why Dan's interest? There are rumours of dark things happening within the hallowed walls of this fine church, that may just be what Dan is looking for to spark his next novel.

Everything in life has a natural order, we are all in a food chain of sorts, mankind thinks it's at the top. As we have seen, we've created pandemics that now put us down the pecking order, as well as the greed driven consumption of our natural resources and the threatening of our very

existence on this planet.

Natural order, also has it's role in the selection process for jobs, so we think. So do the leaders of the Dublin diocese. A little over a year ago they appointed a new parish priest to Holy Redeemer, a youngish Irish man who'd spent the last twenty years ministering and lecturing in the U.S. He came back with a bag full of ideas from the new world, and was welcomed with open arms. Well one atleast, the other may have been behind their backs...

He didn't move into the presbytery with the other priests, but rented an apartment in the town. Nowt wrong, he's lived by himself for a good few years, having middle aged flatmates can be of a shock to the system. Then he started by introducing new things into the mass, such as delivering a sermon through a radio microphone and walking along the front of the altar and picking people out of the congregation and asking them questions(I heard he was going to look for spot prizes next). Whats wrong with that, everything needs to change, a new broom sweeps clean etc,etc.

What the new man hadn't bargained on was something started up by his predecessor. The Parish Council. The who? They're a group of parishioners who offer to help run the parish on a day to day basis. It seems this enlightened group, has taken it upon it's self to do more then just count the takings in the Sunday baskets, arrange the flowers and clean the church. Now they're getting involved in the selection process of the priests, starting by contacting the Arch Bishops office and telling him to replace the new parish priest, because he doesn't conform to their out-dated draconian standards of worship.

They succeeded, the new man. Ok after a year, is he still new man? Probably depends on your point of view. is being moved.

But the whole affair is being played down. I spoke to a friend whose involved in the parish who claims that he hadn't made many new friends and was brusque and unapproachable. While his bedside manner and treatment of ill or dying was outstanding. They also went onto tell me that he himself was unhappy as he didn't realise how large a position he was coming back to, as his previous posting was in a small town in America where he held mass in a community hall every Sunday. Where as here he was dropped into one of the larger parishes on the southside of Dublin.

It's no surprise that the small cabal from the Parish Council, is made up mainly of women. So whats next? Will these ladies decide to unseat the pope. One parishioner said, they can't get too picky there aren't that many priests out there who still do things the old way.

My advice to them is, ladies stick to the coffee mornings, baking scones and idle gossiping and leave witch hunts to the KKK. Recruitment to Sir Alan Sugar and gods natural selection. Because power corrupts and all power corrupts absolutely. Also your not on the council by any devine right, so watch your backs, you maybe the ones being told "your fired" next.

What of the innocent party, he's going to a chaplaincy posting at a Dublin hospital. Good luck to you father, you were saved a fate worse then death and a chalk-line on the alter steps...

THE BANK STOPS HERE

Did you hear this on the news over the weekend? The Manhattan Transport Authority(MTA) has sold the naming rights for one of it's subway stations to Barclay's bank for the next twenty years.

The station in question is Atlantic Avenue, which also serves Pacific Street and Flatbush Avenue in Downtown Brooklyn. Shortly it will become the Barclay's, Atlantic Ave., Pacific St., Flatbush Ave. stop. I'll need a few drinks to get that out in one go...

It's not unusual for corporate companies to buy naming rights to stadiums and other large concert and event arenas. Take the 02 here in Dublin and London, formerly the Point Depot and the the Millennium Dome respectively. Then there's the the stadium which replaced Highbury as the home of Arsenal football club in London, it's called the Emirates stadium after the airline. Not forgetting for the rugby aficionados the new redeveloped Lansdowne Road in Dublin will from next year be known as the Aviva Stadium after the international Insurance firm bought the naming rights.

But as for naming stations, I suppose it's a logical step, originally most stations and airports where named geographically. Dublin Airport for example, is still referred to as Dublin, despite the calls to name it after such political and sporting luminaries as Jack Charlton or Charles Haughey. But in the past twenty years or so it's become fashionable to dedicate a station or airport to a political or sporting figure.

Here in Dublin most of the stations are named after those involved the 1916 rising. On the Southside we have Pearse Street - named after Padraig Pearse, who led the rising. There's Connolly Station on the Northside(originally called Amiens St. Because that's where it's situated) - named after James Connolly, another leader of the rising. Then up the river on the Southside we have Heuston Station - named after Sean Heuston also a member of rising. Going south from Dublin we have Dun Laoghaire DART station recently named Dun Laoghaire "Mallin" after Michael Mallin who was James Connolly's 2nd in command and in the town of Bray 13 miles south of Dublin the Station was also recently renamed Bray Daly after Edward Daly who again fought in the rising.

Going abroad we have Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris, John Lennon airport in Liverpool and again the recently christened George Best international airport in Belfast. Not forgetting the more well known U.S. airports such JFK in New York, Chicago's O'Hare (named after after Lieutenant Commander Edward "Butch" O'Hare a WWII flying ace awarded the Medal Of Honor) and the Ronald Reagan international in Washington D.C.

D.C. also has its main airport Dulles, which was named after John Foster Dulles who was Sec. of State under Eisenhower.

So where to next? If Barclay's can buy a station name will we have Nike Grand Central or maybe they'd be happier with the Charles De Gaulle Nike Air-port. Think of the advertising slogans that could be used... "Swish in and out of the fashion capital".

I suppose Subway's options are limited or numerous whichever way your looking at it. but I'm perplexed as to why Barclay's had to go all the way to NYC to buy a station name. When you consider that there's a station on the London Underground called "Bank", wouldn't have been easier to rename that Barclay's bank... Maybe one of it's UK competitors will take it up...

One last thought is, if Barclays can buy the name of a station, whats stopping them buying the name of the underground or subway... It would give a new meaning to the phrases, "The buck stops here.." or "Money makes the train go round.."