Cruise Control in Oireland

So Tom Cruise, the megawatt star with the megawatt smile, was in town yesterday.

He had a new film to promote. So, the usual red carpet meet n’ greet outside the Savoy then….. But a Certificate of Irishness? Presented by the Deputy Prime Minister? And a Guinness photo op. Really?? The guy doesn’t need personal publicity. I smell a ‘Gathering’ notion……

I have no clue how these things work. Whose PR contacted who first? His, the Government’s, Diageo? Meetings, cosy chats about who, what, where, when – and how much?

Shure gazillions of people have Irish roots somewhere back the line, if you go far enough. American Presidents like to come here to explore their Irish heritage/schmooze the Irish votes back home. Or the Democrat ones at least. Amazing how Republican Presidents don’t have any Irish roots to mine. Apart from one who went down Ballyporeen way….

Will Ferrell, Beyonce, Sarah Jessica Parker, Michael Jackson, and plenty of others most likely, have traversed our highways n’ byways in recent times, unfettered by a politician or a pint getting shoved in their faces. In fact, back when Tom was over here filming Far and Away, himself and Nicole popped up in lots of counties and lots of peoples snaps, casually and quietly. What has changed?

Graham Norton interviewed Tom Cruise recently. No couch-sharing banter with the other guests for him. Apart from with his female co star, of course. She dutifully wittered on about how amazing it was to star alongside, indeed sit alongside the Cruise-meister. Over the course of the interview, Tom’s hair actually goes from curiously tossed to smooth to tossed several times. It suggests a high level of editing room chopping and pasting before being aired….

And now of course we have Cruise Control’s Late Late interview to look forward to. Prerecorded, closed set. Wild guess – no Scientology, ex wives, divorces or children on the discussion sheet. But all about the fillum, the fame and the Oirishness. A schmooze to Cruise from start to finish.

Do you recall Ryan’s Tubridy’s very first Late Late Show? He eviscerated one Brian Cowen, about his governing style, his socializing, his drinking. And what a prescient interview it turned out to be, come that infamous (Morning After) Morning Ireland interview. God be with those Tubridy days…

Ryan will be on a Mission Impossible. While Tom Cruises. In Control.

Maybe I’ll be Far and Away.

Money for Old Horses…

It’s hard to pick out which is the scariest aspect of the horsemeat scandal. Current levels of industry regulation and enforcement are certainly frightening. But what about back when there was even less?

Horse passports were only introduced in Ireland 2004.

Micro chipping only came in compulsorily in 2009.

Commercial horses (show jumpers, racehorses) have long carried ID papers, but what of regular types e.g. those in riding schools, or privately owned, or those animals say, at Ballinasloe/Smithfield horse fair?

In 1998, I owned a horse.

She was rising 16 years of age, had sustained a long term injury and needed to be retired from active work. I did not own or have access to any land to retire her on. Nor did I want to consider the ‘nuclear’ option, that others would.

So – in my innocence – I placed an advert offering her ‘free to good home’. I had no idea what response, if any, I would get. But wasn’t expecting what happened next.

A man rang, saying he was looking for an older horse, to run with yearlings, be a calming influence etc. I asked where he was based, could I come and view his lands and so on. I was happy enough, took his name and number, saying I would decide and call him back.

　

But via a totally chance conversation subsequently, I discovered that this man was a horse dealer. Bought, sold, traded. And sent for slaughter. Paid by weight, the heavier the animal, the more cash for him. No paperwork would change hands of course. There was none.

　

I should have copped it when instead of asking about her health and temperament, he was asking what height my horse was and if she was light boned i.e. how many kgs could he exchange on the scales, for cold, hard cash?

I did not ring him back.

But he was not done. He actually made THREE separate approaches to me in total, using different names and phone numbers. But wiser now, and using a few appropriate contacts, I sussed it out and did not respond. So he gave up.

I eventually did manage to find a ‘free to good home’ for my horse. And delivered her there myself.

There is, and has been, money in dead horses, for a long time. Whether we like it, or like to think about it, or not.

Back then I vaguely knew of only one horse abattoir in Ireland.

There is actually three now – (B&F Meats, Thomastown, Co Kilkenny , Ashgrove Meats, Newcastlewest in Limerick & Shannonside Foods, in Straffan, Co.Kildare).

Who knew?

I’m not suggesting that my horse or any other might have ended up in the food chain back then – although let’s face it, who honestly could say?

But when you consider how poorly the (albeit weak) system of regulation has worked lately, it is worth at least pondering what might possibly have gone on, back when there was just about no regulation at all.

The Brennan Brothers – at whose Service?

RTE frequently uses its flagship Late Late Show to promote other shows on its schedule. New cookery/reality/comedy show coming up? Get the main characters on, pronto. Also commonly known on Twitter as ‘the canteen trawl,’ or by the very witty @anniewestdotcom as the ‘RTE Wheel of Guests’. What usually follows is a 20 minute puff piece of lovey-dom, air kissing and mutual adoration.

So far, so irritating.

But last week, a new departure. Two RTE presenters are brought on, not to promo their own show, but their new clothing range. Cue extensive interview, extensive displaying of said wares by models. What’s going on here??

• Is the RTE Director General on a percentage of the clothing profits?
• Was there going to be one for everyone in the audience?
• Unlike the show promotions, RTE gain nothing from this exercise, but the two new fashion designers can gain massively. Why should this be?
• Is this contracted as part of their programme pay?
• Or have they themselves paid for this mahoosive ad?
• Considering a 30 second ad during the Late Late Show costs up to €25,000 – you actually couldn’t pay for advertising this big.
• Do RTE really just love their staff this much ? Or just who is actually doing what deals with who?

But then again – hang on an advertising minute….

RTE, and two particular presenters, already have this self promo art form completely sown up. I give you – The Brennan Brothers. Two very successful hoteliers, they ostensibly help others struggling in the hospitality industry in their ‘At Your Service’ programme. Every episode opens with some lofty shots of their Kerry enterprise. And lo and behold, when they ‘ponder’ the needs of the business in question, they simply have to go back to Kerry – cue more shots and airtime – every week to make (i.e. film) their decisions.

(Incidentally, this week’s episode saw them take their clients for some teambuilding to a cookery school . The proprietor of which happens to have a cookery programme on RTE. Cosy that).

But it doesn’t end there. Sure enough there’s been several ubiquitous Late Late appearances. But I’ve also heard the Brennans interviewed on Tubridy’s radio show, or was it John Murray, or both, namedropping their hotel while also lamenting their lack of total success in a new accommodation venture of theirs in Kerry. What can they do? ‘They’ in this case being RTE….

Last week’s Nationwide programme provided the answer. The presenter was doing a piece from an Irish tourism trade show, before heading off to several Irish locations to show what’s on offer. You know exactly where she ended up….

A good 10 minute video tour of the new Kerry venture, ably led and guided by willing volunteer John Brennan. They dined in the restaurant, walked around the extensive grounds, show-cased the accommodation.

What is going on?!

• Do the Brennan brothers know where all the RTE skeletons are hidden?
• Are RTE paying the Brennans in advertising-kind for their ‘At Your Service’ programme?
• Are The Brennan Brothers paying RTE – gazillions surely – for this enormous and sustained level of promotion and puffery?
• Like all clever and successful businesspeople, they will obviously lap up every advertising opportunity presented or allowed. But what new or struggling business wouldn’t give their right arm for even a fraction of this high level, unfettered exposure?

It’s all just a little unedifying to say the least.

‘The Brennan Brothers – At RTE’s/Their Own Service?’

Channel 4 Racing – and they’re off!

So, the time for lamenting the old is past, the guard has been changed. The much anticipated new Channel 4 racing programme has begun.

First impressions? Shiny new intro, colourful motifs, lots of new techy stuff.

Presenters – some new, some familiar. Everyone will have those they will miss to a greater or lesser degree. (Alastair Down for me). Delighted to see Nick Luck, Tanya and Jimbo round the giant iPad table. And Graham Cunningham. Who? Big analyst from Racing UK apparently, but a newbie to us terrestrial TV types. An intro would have been good. But look forward to his contributions (Flemenstar for  the Gold Cup?? Hmmm) and those of Gina Bryce, over from At the Races it seems.

Out in the field, Clare Balding and Mick Fitz did their brilliant thing. Roving reporters, noodling around equine stars, stables, tackrooms. I love it. We know what to expect from Clare, so effortlessly herself (super friendly/enthusiastic/knowledgeable), and therefore so thrilled to see her on board. Mick Fitzgerald never comes across as quite so natural (who could?!), but again brings his expertise so well, and a welcome Irish accent to boot, evens out all the jolly hockey stickery, if you will.

Apart from there being less racing to include, this first programme may have suffered slightly under the weight of its own enthusiasm. Lots of techy gadgetry to show off, lots of personnel to introduce. Also lots of bigging up of Grand National credentials – not that I’d be complaining about that. But betting and actual racing took on a slight ‘we interrupt this programme to bring you the next from Musselburgh’ feel.

But when all that analysis and techy reviews/previews of upcoming runners is applied, a treat will be in store. And more importantly, the ‘behind the scenes’ vignettes are so crucial to racing’s wider appeal. If it was all about betting and winning, then virtual racing would have swept the nation/tv stations by now. But real racing fans want to see exactly how a horse makes it to a racecourse, who/what makes him tick, a sneak peek at his personality almost. (Didn’t Binocular look a right beast?!)

More of same please.

 

And finally – now that Channel 4 really is the home of racing – no more channel hopping/Skyplussing of a Saturday. Hurrah!

　

Will it be a big success? You bet.

Compartmentalizing Dementia

I don’t mention my father’s dementia much any more.

Those who properly know me/him are well aware of it.
In wider conversation I found the following was often the first reaction;

‘Oh, that’s terrible. What age is he?’

Do you ever find similar if you mention the death of a relative?

‘Sorry to hear that. What age was he/she?’

‘What age is he’…. What’s that all about? Do people subconsciously like to compartmentalize their sympathy on a sliding scale? Does the thought process go something like…. ‘Forty-five? Gosh, still a long life ahead of him’ or maybe ‘Eighty-seven? Oh well, he had a good innings at least.’

I don’t imagine the families of those with dementia dwell much on age. When considering my father’s recent diagnosis, I think about the following;

• Him not being able to find things. Not because they’re not in the right place. But because he can’t remember where the right places are.
• Finding him making coffee and toast for breakfast when he’s been a daily tea-and-brown-bread devotee for longer than anyone can remember
• Going to the shops for three items and coming back with three different ones. And not because he didn’t have a list. But because he forgot he had a list.
• Being relieved that he can still drive (to the shops and Mass) because my mother no longer can. And knowing that a first time will come when he might forget the way/way back
• Casual visitors finding him his hale and hearty self. Ever the storyteller, they won’t realise that most tales these days relate to his rural childhood or teenage years. And those about his working life, his hobbies, current affairs are sadly dwindling.

As a family, we realise that these are mere hills compared to the mountains that could lie ahead for him and us. Mountains that are negotiated by spouses, carers and families of dementia sufferers everywhere, every day.

We don’t think about their age. Just their care and continued happiness.
My father is 79, by the way.

Compartmentalize.

‘If you build it, they will come..(cycling)’

 

So, Transport Minister Leo Varadkar wants to build a cycle lane from Galway to Dublin. A positive news story, with heaps of potential benefits, for our ailing economy and ailing (unfit/fat) population. Applause!

 

But this being Ireland, his proposal is of course met with howls of mockery, derision and begrudgery. Being incapable to the point of blindness of the seeing the big picture, (tourism, employment, health benefits) Irish people bang on about the country being broke, the existing roads needing fixing, it not being needed/wanted and so on.

 

And of course we can do begrudgery on a more local level too. A new cycle route recently opened between Nenagh, North Tipperary and the East Limerick suburbs. A 64 km round trip, on the now much quieter former N7 since the motorway finally opened. Cue more grumbling before and during the construction phase. Topped off by one opinion I read declaring it a ‘colossal waste of money’ if people didn’t use it.

 

I’ve been pondering how exactly you measure the worth of a cycle route before roundly declaring it a success/failure. What level of use is expected? Peloton size groups whizzing along? Traffic lights required for crowd control? Or how quickly do you decide – remember the pathway is there for years, maybe generations to come…

 

Well I live along this new route, and see the users pass by my window every day (or if I peer through the ditch at least). People like;

 

• Cycling groups/clubs, who drive from near and far to park up at either end. I see their vans and bikes in car parks and outside shops and restaurants, as well as cruising swishly along the road.

 

• National Youth Cycling, who used a section of the route recently for their One Day Championship. The hotel I saw them (and their families and supporters) all piling into afterwards are surely glad the pink path goes past their front door.

 

• Paralympic hand-cyclist Mark Rohan, who regularly traversed the route this Spring on his way to magnificent double gold in London 2012.

 

But it’s not just athletes who are using it;

 

• How shall we say – somewhat less fit men, of all shapes and sizes, on bikes of all shapes and sizes. Knees akimbo, scraping their way up hills, puffing their way along. Getting out there. And getting there.

 

• Families; Daddy manfully up front, Mammy eyeing the brood from the back, variety of kids wobbling and wavering along in between. All taking in the air, the scenery, the quality time together.

 

• Heck, it even tempted me to jog on it a few times. Sometimes I wonder what the cyclists might think of this. But then I reckon exercisers of a feather, etc. Am even pondering the notion of a two wheeled purchase…

 

Cynics could of course argue that all these people were exercising somewhere else before this route was built. And maybe they were. But perhaps they were not…

 

So, let’s see then. This cycle route is bringing people and business to towns and villages in its environs. It is improving the health and well being of its users. It might, therefore, keep people out of hospitals in the future. It may even save lives.

 

Now who could put a price on all that?

When Crime comes Home

 

‘Home Sweet Home’

‘A Man’s Home is his Castle’

‘There’s no Place like Home’

‘Home is Where the Heart is’

Home: the place you come back to at the end of a day, for familiarity, security, safety, for everything you hold dear.

But in the space of three days in Ireland recently, for these three people, home became instead, the most dire antithisis of all it should have held for them.

Eugene Gillespie (67) most likely answered the door of his Sligo home to one or more would be burglers. Such was their anxiety to render him helpless, they broke his jaw and bound his hands to the point of cutting off the circulation. Eugene lay unconscious and dying on the hall floor of his home for up to 48 hours before being discovered on 21^st September. He died in hospital the next day .

　

Anna Finnegan (26) was living in a Dublin suburb with her two very young children. She had recently asked her brother to come and stay with them. Her ex partner, against whom she had just secured a barring order, managed to gain entry to her home on 21^st September . He repeatedly stabbed her and her brother, who had come to her defence. Then, as their two children slept upstairs, he bundled her from her home into his car, where he subsequently dumped her at the A & E doors of the nearest hospital. Anna subsequently died.

‘

Ciara Pugsley (15) did not die in her own home. She took her own life in a forest near her home in Leitrim on the 19^th of September. But crime, which led to her death, did visit her home. Ciara was bullied, on social networking sites, to the point that she could not take any more. In the childhood of my era, bullying happened in the classroom, the yard, or on the journey to or from school. But as was so wisely pointed out on a radio discussion last week, once you got home the bullying stopped. You could close the door and leave it behind, for that day at very least.

But the cyber-bully is a 24/7, all pervasive and most stealthy operator. Just about every teenager has a mobile phone and a Facebook account. And therein lies the invisible yet very clear pathway to be evilly  jibed at, insulted, threatened at will. Even in the refuge of your bedroom, even at 3am – just because your phone is your alarm clock call.

Three days, three crimes, three people not coming home.

RIP.

The Simpsons as role models – who knew?!

So – how’s your HD TVgetting on? Signed up for Saorview yet? Got Sky multi-room?

For a technophobe like me, who also lives ‘down the country’ in Ireland, there is a plethora of choices currently doing the rounds.

For the record, I have a Sky-Box, but also an aerial for the Irish channels on the ‘old’ telly. This way someone can watch the ‘foreign’ channels, while elsewhere in the house the ‘RTEs’ are on. I call it the Irish solution to Sky Multi Room.

We should be more like them – no, really…

So there I was, pondering the cost of replacing the pensioner TV for a Saorview-ready one, opting to buy a Saorview box or looking at other SKY options. I mentioned it – ok moaned about it – over on the Twitter. A few people debated what to do back and forth, then I got this reply, from @PatQuirke;

‘or you could opt for family viewing, like the olden days’

Well – you could have knocked me down with the RTE Guide. So obvious, yet almost quaint and dare I say it, alien to modern day living? I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t even considered it.

It’s not that we don’t all sit down in this house and watch stuff together. But how often do you sidle off to catch your favourite drama or soap because the kids are in the middle of Cartoon Time? Or slide in a DVD for them while you retreat to The Sunday Game? Or how about ‘feigned accompaniment’ ie actually sitting in front of the tv with your children, but then reading/texting/tweeting/surfing on your device of choice. Guilty as charged – anyone else?

Pat’s comment also sent me straight back to the couch of my own childhood;

• My Dad roaring with laughter at Tom & Gerry. He’d still enjoy it I reckon.
• Sitting in watching Saturday Sport because it was pouring outside. Dad’s initial choice again maybe, but it’s where my passion for horse-racing began.
• All gathering round for the latest instalments of ‘Roots’ or ‘Upstairs Downstairs’ or ‘All Creatures Great and Small’. Hugely enjoyable and much more educational than I would have realised at the time. Although I’m not sure what I learnt from ‘The Thorn Birds’ apart from the town in Louth being pronounced ‘ Drog-eeda’.
• Trying to beat your siblings shouting out answers to ‘Quicksilver’ or ‘Where in the World’. Similarly, but with a lot less actual shouting out, to ‘Mastermind’.
• Being plonked in front of a film ( ‘Noooo! not black n’white!’) and loving classics like ‘A Night to Remember’, ‘Lassie Come Home’ and also ‘The Boy with Green Hair’ – yes…
• And cheering madly for your favourites on ‘It’s a Knockout’ or ‘Superstars’ (birthplace of the Pat Spillane tan).

I say this not just to fondly reminisce (or show my age). But this tv time was a special and important part of family life and of growing up. How do I know this? Because I remember it. Vividly. Memories are made of this etc.

These days there’s so much more channel choice, any manner of electronic games, and also more after-school activities. But when it does come to tv, how about making a better effort to study the schedules and make some conscious family-viewing choices?

It’s time to make like The Simpsons and head for the couch. Doh!

The Spelling Bee (in my Bonnet)

I posted this photo on Twitter recently, taken outside a local shopping centre.

Judging by the amount of RTs and mentions it generated, (still circulating 3 days after I posted it) I think it irritated a lot of people as much as it did me.

　

There are lots of reasons why people can’t or don’t spell correctly. Learning difficulties, dyslexia, carelessness. Teenagers preferring txt spk. (I think I would surely faint correcting the horror show that is 2^nd level exam papers). But that is all ok, to a greater or lesser degree.

While all and any incorrect spelling still annoys me, it is professional misspelling i.e. in business that I find an unforgivable crime.

Take Easons, above, as an example. They sell stationery. They sell school books. They sell dictionaries, for Heaven’s sake. But they don’t see fit to ensure that their signage is spelt correctly. Someone else tweeted that they saw this same mistake in another branch and mentioned it to the manager. The response?

‘ Thank you, but we have no plans to change it’

This, remember, from a company who also sponsored a National Spelling Bee for children recently. The mind boggles.

I was in the very salubrious foyer of a new hotel recently. The wall behind the reception desk was a vast marble and glass affair with the words of some grand poem or saying etched across it. The effect was impressive. Except, right behind the level of the receptionist’s head was inscribed

‘Generousity’

I immediately wondered if it was ever noticed by the proprietors. Did they weigh up the – no doubt – substantial cost of fixing it? Did they say ‘ah sure it’ll do’. Or did they even care. To me, nothing screams ‘we are unprofessional’ more than bad spelling/grammar. The sentiment in this very wonderful statement regarding punctuation could equally apply to spelling;

“An apostrophe is the difference between a business that knows its shit and a business that knows it’s shit”

(who wrote that anyway?! I could just hug them.)

Stationery/stationary is very high on my list of criminal misspellings. Also way up the league table are;

Lose – to misplace/not win vs. Loose – not tight . If I see it written as ‘they were very sorry to loose the game’ one more time I think I’ll loose the head…

Separate. Example ‘even though the couple decided not to separate, they still opted for separate beds at home’ i.e. the word ‘seperate’ does not exist. But it appears all the time. Including in this Sunday newspaper.

Also featured on a giant AIB billboard ad I saw once. Maybe they separated from their ad agency after that super-sized blooper.

Not that I am beyond a spelling mistake myself of course. I do spellcheck and re-read everything before sending, even texts and tweets (she’s got it bad, I hear you say). But some words trip me up, notably

Across – quite likely to spell it ‘accross’ because I somehow mix it up with the spelling of Address.

Specially/especially – Can never, ever remember which is used when and can’t even tell you now the difference between them. So shoot me!

But seriously. You have Spellcheck at your disposal. You have proofreaders (Me! Me!). You have ad agencies. There is no excuse – none – for incorrect spelling in business.

And of course if you find any bad spelling in this blogpost, do let me no…

　

　

Miss Bikini Ireland?

Came across a mention recently for a competition called ‘Miss Bikini Ireland 2012.’

Not that I’m considering entering myself. Of course. The nearest I get to a bikini these days is when I run past them, shuddering, on my way to the sucky-in knickers section in Marks and Spencers.

But I have nothing against beauty contests. No feminist rants here. If savvy women want to use their assets to win money/enhance their modelling portfolios/increase their public profile then off they go. I’m not aware that any of them are dragged kicking and screaming to enter.

But what did pique my interest in Miss Bikini Ireland was the fact that part of the selection process includes an interview. An interview? Really? Surely this contest should do exactly what it says on the tin – if you look the best in your bikini, you are the winner. Let’s face it, you could be mute, or pathologically shy and still be the winner. As far as I know, bodybuilding competitions ( to which this is surely quite close) don’t hold interviews.

Now I know the Tralee Lovely Girls competition has an interview, you have to be able to prove you are lovely (and fair, like the Rose of the Summer…) And the Miss World franchise calls itself ‘beauty with a purpose’ the winner having to represent the competition worldwide, do appearances and charity work etc. Though I read that the UK version has even dispensed with their swimwear section.

So, I ask you, a ‘bikini’ interview? Would all the answers be of the ‘I eat fresh air/work out like a demon/sleep on a sunbed’ variety?

I decided to look up their website. Which kinda fills in the gaps about the nature of this particular contest.

　

Among the rules are as follows;

‘Must … possess poise, charm, personality and beauty of face and figure’. – I’m sorry, but the girl with the charm and personality of a block of cheese could still look best in her bikini.
‘Must be female and not married or have had a child.’ – because when you get married you let your self go anyway. And bearing a child plays havoc with the old bikini figure.
But my favourite rule of all?

‘Must give 100% to the contest at all times.’ – subjective much?? Can you just picture the scene;

‘We’re sorry, Miss Bikini Mayo, you’ve been disqualified. You didn’t give 100% to the contest. We measured. You only gave 85%.’

Elsewhere, we are informed that entrants, and I quote ‘must take control of there promotion in building there own facebook/twitter page to build fanbase to support them through out the contest.’ Quite.

Also, in order to raise the €200 entry fee, you can get ‘get a sponsor for this off a local business’….. in an armed raid perhaps, or a smash n’ grab effort?

And finally, the photos submitted with your entry ‘must be taken in a bikini.’ Is that too much to ask of your photographer? Maybe they’d wear anything these days if it meant a day’s work.

Good luck to all entrants. As you sashay down the catwalk, I hope your bikini clad assets do all the talking.

www.missbikiniireland.com