Month: July 2023

Ryan Tubridy has been the centre of attention over the last few weeks. I have followed the televised Oireachtas Committee hearings and listened to numerous conversations and interviews on the radio and in the print media and after all that, I am still unsure how I feel about the man himself.

Is he a villain or a victim? Is he, as some have suggested, a practised performer looking for sympathy or is he really just a guy with little interest in money who put his trust in others to look after his financial interests and genuinely didn’t know what was going on? I can’t decide.

There are aspects of the whole controversy that leave me scratching my head and part of that fog is down to the Oireachtas Committees. The T.D.’s and Senators on both committees were tasked with getting to the truth so we could all have a better understanding of what exactly took place in RTE.

After two weeks of questioning the various witnesses, I am no wiser. The committee members themselves admitted afterwards to being as confused as ever. They blamed the witnesses for not being forthcoming with their answers, but they must shoulder some of the responsibility. The standard of interrogation left a lot to be desired.

It seemed to me that some committee members had no strategy. They were more interested in showboating and promoting themselves as the people’s champion than actually getting answers. Others appeared to be ill-prepared, rambled incoherently or simply used most of their allocated time delivering monologues.

Occasionally they lost the run of themselves and became repetitive or resorted to aggression and rudeness. They were frustrated at times and justifiably so. It was difficult to get straight answers to direct questions and frequently the answers had to be dragged from the witnesses, but they should have anticipated that.

I worked with some very skilled interrogators in my time in An Garda Siochana who knew about getting to the truth. They had techniques. When they interviewed a suspect, they had a plan and a set of carefully scripted questions. Over a period of time with skilful interrogation, they established the facts.

OK, there were some who used unlawful methods of interrogation and we’ve all heard those stories, but the real professionals had no need to resort to those tactics. They relied on their training, professionalism and skill, none of which were in evidence at the Oireachtas meetings.

So now I am left sitting on the fence about Ryan Tubridy and whether or not he should return to the airwaves. Initially, I thought his career was over. When I saw two hundred of his colleagues standing together outside the RTE studios in Montrose in silent protest, I wondered how he could ever face them again?

After seeing him testifying, I changed my opinion slightly. I developed a degree of sympathy for him but there were many who argued it was all an act. Some said his performance wasn’t credible. Like him or not though, you have to admit, the guy has been through the wringer.

Let me say at the outset, I don’t have a strong opinion on Tubridy either way. I was never a fan of The Late Late Show, not because I didn’t like it, I just wasn’t interested in it. I did listen to Tubridy’s morning radio show over the years. I even participated in it on a couple of occasions and found him to be a very pleasant character.

Tubridy always came across to me as an honest, genuine, down to earth guy. A talented presenter who has a great way with kids and who enjoys interacting with them. He seems to enjoy being recognised by children across the land as the ‘Toy Man’ and he has a reputation for being approachable.

He also has a reputation for being generous with his time when it comes to supporting various charities and worthy causes, so I did have some sympathy for him when I watched him appearing before those committees. He looked tired, strained and at times had difficulty maintaining his composure. Six hours of grilling in the full glare of the nation would rattle most people.

During my working life in An Garda Siochana, I did occasionally appear in court to face inquisitors. Trained lawyers who didn’t shy away from tearing lumps out of you if they thought it would benefit their client. Their clients deserved that too so there was no animosity in those exchanges; it was part of the process.

Even so, taking the stand could at times be uncomfortable but it was never personal. The prosecution presented their best case, the defence tore holes in it whenever they could, and a judge or a jury decided who the winner was. Exchanges may have been robust occasionally, but they were mostly respectful.

There was stress too. A mistake in giving evidence could result in a case being thrown out. Half an hour in a witness box could knock the sweat out of you, never mind the six hours that Tubridy faced.

Tubridy claimed to have little interest in the financial side of his business and left that to his agent. I get that. My wife looks after our accounts because I’m useless with money. My financial situation is far from complicated, and I have nothing to hide but if I had to face questions about my pay, pension and personal finances I would struggle. It wouldn’t take long to tie me in knots and after six hours I would be babbling incoherently and begging for mercy.

This story has a long way to go yet and it’s important to get to the truth of the matter. That will be impossible unless the committees get their act together and cut out the grandstanding.

There was a video on social media recently about the Irish International footballer, Lily Agg and it documented her visit to Cobh. I have to admit I knew very little about her or her association with the harbour town, but I did know she was a very talented soccer player who helped guide Ireland’s women’s football team to the next world Cup.

So, who is Lily Agg? Well, she is a professional footballer, born in England, who plays for London City Lionesses and the Republic of Ireland and also works as a Sports Lecturer. It says a lot about her strength of character that she is even playing football at this level because in the 2019/20 season she fractured her tibia against Reading in a friendly and that put her out of action for most of the year.

​She bounced back though and made it onto the Ireland International Team and will be with them when they head to the FIFA Women’s World Cup 2023 which will take place during July and August next year. Ireland will be among the thirty-two teams taking part in the competition which will be jointly hosted by Australia and New Zealand.

Lily played a significant part in the qualification process by scoring the winning goal against Finland in Tallaght last September. She came on as a substitute and headed home the winner which ensured Ireland got into the play offs. The win against Scotland in October then secured their place.

Just after scoring the goal against Finland, Lily looked skyward and later at the press conference, she explained why she did that. She said she thought of her grandmother immediately after the goal. ”I believe everything happens for a reason,” she said. “I looked at the sky and said a prayer because I wouldn’t be here without her.”

The grandmother in Lily’s case is Breda Greene, who is originally from Cobh, and it’s through her that Lily qualifies to wear the Ireland jersey. She died nineteen years ago when Lily was only ten years old, but she left a lasting impression on the young footballer. She said, ‘I would like to think that grandma would be extremely proud of me now, playing and representing Ireland.”

During her visit to Cobh, she again mentioned that her grandmother came from the harbour town and that she had other relatives there too. I grew up in Cobh and I still live there but the name Greene meant nothing to me, so I threw out the net looking for information. A cousin of mine came to the rescue.

He knew the Greene family and one of Breda’s sisters, Evelyn, had lived next door to him when she was alive. Another had lived not far away in Belmont which is slightly embarrassing from my perspective because I grew up practically next door to these women and knew both of them but by their married names only. In fact, I grew up with some of Lily’s uncles.

I got in touch with Evelyn’s sons, Finbarr and Michael, two of the uncles, and it was Michael who accommodated Lily and her mother Ruth during their short stay. The lads are very proud of Lily and were only too happy to help me out. They knew Breda very well and even though she emigrated to England when she was very young, the families kept in touch. The lads had been over to stay with their aunt on several occasions during her lifetime.

They told me she was the youngest child of Michael and Mary Greene of Belmont in Cobh. She had two brothers, Paddy and Michael, known as Monny, and two sisters Evelyn and Josephine. Paddy and Monny also emigrated to the UK and worked in Fords in Dagenham.

Breda’s two sisters remained in Ireland while Breda went to England to study and became a qualified nurse. She married Alan Vardy, an Englishman, and settled in the Medway Towns area living at various times in Rochester and Chatham. She had two children Claire and Ruth, and Ruth eventually had her own daughter who is known to us now as Lily Agg.

Breda never lost touch with her family in Cobh. She was in constant contact with her sisters and a regular visitor to Cobh until her death. Both her daughters also became nurses and Ruth settled in Brighton which is where Lily is from.

Breda’s father was a big supporter of Cobh Ramblers but didn’t play the game. While Lily’s uncles in Cobh freely admit they never reached the dizzy heights of their niece, they were nevertheless sporty people. Evelyn’s eldest son, the late Liam, played competitive GAA and soccer. His brother Michael was a very good GAA player in his day and is a handy golfer while Finbarr is a keen tennis player.

Lily’s visit to Cobh, with her mother Ruth, coincided with some media work she was doing with the FAI and while they were here, they stayed with Michael O’Connor, and they all got together for a family dinner. Finbarr told me, “It was nice to catch up with Ruth who we knew well from childhood, but it was our first-time meeting Lily.”

Finbarr described Breda as fun loving and out-going. “Whenever she came to Cobh, she was always out meeting people. She was very friendly and enjoyed company. She adored her family and I think if she was around today, she would be on the side-lines cheering on her granddaughter.”

Lily obviously feels the same way.

If a bridge suddenly appeared between Ireland and mainland Europe overnight, I would happily use it. I like driving and it would be nice to have my car with me on the other side too when I arrive. It would be interesting to see how that would work out financially when compared to flights and car ferries but for now, I limited to flying.

That’s not always straight forward though. I often use low-budget airlines but dealing with them can be stressful. It can be expensive at times too and it’s important to understand beforehand that if anything goes wrong with your travel plans, your chances of finding a sympathetic voice in the customer service department of these organisations are slim. That’s provided you can even get through.

You can probably expect a bit of a walk too. The boarding gates used by low budget airlines are often located at the far end of the terminal. Space might also be tight, and the seats won’t be as comfortable as your recliner at home so your bum might be a little numb by the time you reach your destination.

But if you’re getting the flight at the right price and you know what you’re letting yourself in for beforehand then you can’t complain. You pay for the basics and that’s what you get so if it’s luxury you’re after, you better look elsewhere. They’ll get you to where you want to go and that’s the most important thing.

We all want value for money though, but with no frills airlines, what you see is not necessarily always what you get. Especially when it comes to final cost, so you need to be tuned in; they aren’t always cheap. Prices have risen sharply in the last couple of years thanks to the pandemic and the war in Ukraine, the go-to excuses for all price hikes these days, so watch out for hidden charges.

After you have been lured into the website by the prospect of getting a flight at a bargain price you might discover the cost has risen dramatically once you’ve added your luggage, selected your seats and opted for priority boarding.

Travelling without luggage is obviously cheaper. It’s easier to move around too when you don’t have to haul suitcases behind you, and it saves time at your destination when you don’t have to wait at the carousel for the bags to be unloaded from the plane.

Paying for luggage can often cost as much as the price of the actual ticket but families going on holidays have little alternative. Similarly, families travelling together have little choice but to reserve seats if they want to sit together. Opting for random seating is easier and cheaper when travelling alone.

I only pre-book a seat if I need to catch a connecting flight and time is short. Selecting a seat up the front of the plane allows for a quick exit but that only works when you don’t have to wait for a bus to take you to the terminal building and you don’t have to collect luggage.

Priority boarding is something that always leaves me scratching my head. Passengers who pay more for that facility pass through the boarding gate ahead of non-priority passengers, but they generally end up standing together on the other side of the gate anyway until the plane is ready to accept them.

Having said all that, there are deals to be had too, especially if you can be flexible with your dates and times. For now, driving to Cyprus is a non-runner for me. My only choice is to fly, and it seems there are some who would like to deprive me of that.

The idea of rationing flights has been around for a few years. The suggestion is that passengers would only be allowed to fly a certain number of miles each year to help cut down on emissions that are causing a huge amount of damage to the environment.

Short haul flights emit more CO2 per passenger than long haul flights because most of the fuel is used during take-off and landing. Long haul flights are more fuel efficient, but they use more fuel overall so there have been calls for the airline industry to make changes.

If flight rationing does come into force, we will be at the mercy of an air mile allowance which will make it more difficult to get off our very expensive little island.

Ireland had the single highest consumer prices in the EU last year, because of government hikes in alcohol and tobacco as well as the cost of energy and communications. Ireland’s price level for consumer goods and services was 46% above the EU average in 2022, according to data released by Eurostat.

I experienced a bit of that recently when my wife and I called into a hotel for a bit of lunch. My wife had a glass of house wine, and the measure could be described as modest. There was no danger of it overflowing.

When we got the bill afterwards, we were shocked to see she was charged €9.20 for her tipple. I reckon the hotel could get at least five glasses out of that bottle which would give them close to €50 for each bottle.

I know very little about wine apart from the fact that it comes from grapes, but I do know I can get lots of it in Cyprus for less than a fiver a bottle and wine drinkers are very happy with it. I can also have a dinner and a few beers on that island for less than €15 which is more than I can do here.

If flight rationing does come to pass, I might just have to stay away for longer.

I’m not sure where this started but there is a no-wash movement emerging whose aim is to encourage people to wash their clothes as little as possible or not at all. They say it’s to protect the environment, save water and extend the life of our clothes.

Our Green friends want us to live like Baldrick, Edmund Blackadder’s sidekick but I won’t be joining in. They say there are some great reasons for washing our clothes less frequently. They’ll last longer, it’s good for the environment and using a washing machine can be expensive, so doing less laundry will save you time and money.

That may be, but one of the things I like about living in the twenty first century, is the comfort it provides me. I like feeling fresh, I love my shower and I prefer clean clothes. I know what the alternative feels like from my travels to various parts of the world in the days when trying to maintain good personal hygiene was often difficult. Been there and worn the dirty t-shirt.

I wince when I think about what our ancestors had to put up with, but they didn’t know any better and didn’t have the facilities either. I wrote recently about toileting in medieval times and I’m still not over that. We are wiser now and I have no intention of slumming it no matter what the no-washers tell me.

According to The Guardian, Richard Blackburn, professor of sustainable materials at Leeds University asked at what stage do you decide to wash your clothes? “Do you smell it? Do you look at it? Or do you just wash it habitually?” He then points out that the fabric that has most contact with your body is your bedding, and you wouldn’t dream of washing it after every use.

He didn’t say how often he washes his bed linen but I’m getting itchy just thinking about it. In our house, certain clothes are washed more frequently than others. Tennis gear, work clothes and anything likely to come in contact with my sweaty body goes straight into the wash basket the miniute it comes off. Casual wear around the house might last a couple of days at most.

He doesn’t like washing the body too often either. “We wash ourselves so much anyway.” According to Professor Blackburn, “Most people shower or bathe once a day. Most of us do occupations where, frankly, we don’t really perspire. We don’t get dirty, and it’s not good to be uber clean.”

The professor says he’ll happily wear socks more than once and has been known to wear pants twice if on the first day, he didn’t get the full 18-hours’ use out of them. I presume he means underpants and I’m sorry but I’m not having that. Another suggestion is to be flexible and if your clothes don’t smell, don’t bother washing them.

I have no intention of wearing a shirt until it starts to stink. I shower every morning and usually again at some other point during the day depending on what I’m doing. I sweat a lot so presumably anything that comes in contact with me is also going to get sweaty and even if it doesn’t pong, it’s going in the machine.

Even back in the Middle Ages they washed themselves and their clothes. They did the best they could with what they had.

According to worldhistory.com people in the Middle Ages acquired something of a bad reputation when it came to cleanliness, especially the peasantry. However, despite the general lack of running water and other modern amenities, there were common expectations of personal hygiene such as regularly washing from a basin.

Washing the hands before and after eating was regarded as good etiquette in a period when cutlery was still a rarity for most people. Although monks had their own special areas for washing, including at Cluny Abbey in France which had a large basin where hands were washed before meals.

There, the towels were changed twice a week while the water was changed only once a week which kind of defeated the purpose.

Running water was scarce, and it took such a physical effort to get one bucketful from a well or nearby water source, it’s not surprising that taking a full bath every day was not a feasible option for most people. Indeed, with baths seen as a luxury given the cost of fuel to heat the water, monks, for example, were typically prohibited from taking more than two or three baths in a year.

For those who had a bath, it most often took the form of a wooden half-barrel or tub. Even then it would not have been filled and most of the ‘bathing’ was done using a jug of heated water poured over the body.

The vast majority of people, though, would have made do with a quick swill using a basin of cold water. As 80% of the population did physically demanding jobs working the land it is likely that washing of some kind was done on a daily basis.

Teeth were cleaned using twigs (especially hazel) and small pieces of wool cloth. Shaving was either not done at all or just once a week.

Soaking laundry in lye, an alkaline solution often used for washing, was an important way of tackling white and off-white cloth to whiten as well as cleanse. Ashes and urine were the most important substances for mixing a good “lye”. As well as helping to remove stains and encourage a white colour, they were good de-greasing agents.

I’m not gone on the idea of washing my clothes in ashes and pee or limiting myself to a couple of showers a year either, so I won’t be joining the no-wash brigade.

I was delighted to read John Dolan’s column in The Echo some time ago in which he described how he had been assaulted by a horse fly while out for his daily walk. He was bitten each time he passed the same location, so much so, he wondered if the same insect was ambushing him.

I didn’t take any pleasure from John’s misery, but it gave me some comfort to learn that I am not alone when it comes to being assaulted by biting things. It’s nice to know there are fellow sufferers out there.

Insects generally give me a hard time, and that includes horse flies. There was a time when they were the bane of my life and when I lived in the countryside, I hated the thought of having to cut the grass. No matter what the weather was like I had to dress like a beekeeper. Long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a hat and gloves. Anything left exposed after that, got the tiger balm treatment.

Horse flies didn’t like that stuff but neither did I. It was sticky, smelly and difficult to apply but needs must. On a hot summer’s day, it was uncomfortable being wrapped up like someone preparing for a game of ice hockey but even with those precautions, the horse flies didn’t give up. They were always on the prowl.

Anyone familiar with these creatures knows they are persistent little buggers. Swatting them away only encourages them so the only option is extermination, but they don’t make that easy either. Best thing is to let them land and then whack them.

And that’s a pity because I would happily share my blood with them, if they weren’t so aggressive. I have plenty so I’m sure we could have a harmonious relationship if they could drink their fill without leaving itchy lumps on my body.

They’re very selective in choosing their victims too. My neighbour back then, loved gardening. He would often be out there from early morning until late at night with his shirt off. Plenty of skin exposed but he never got a bite. There was a small hedge between us, but the horse flies seemed to prefer my side so, I came to the conclusion it was personal.

It’s a similar story when I go abroad. As soon as I step off the plane, the mosquito community get an alert that I have arrived. They rub their little pincers together at the prospect of a hearty meal. I have tried every lotion and potion known to mankind without success, so I have come to accept mozzie bites as a price to be paid for life in the sun.

Recently though, the stakes were raised when some biting things invaded my home. This was a new and unwelcome departure. I woke up one morning and found lumps on my ankles and arms and every day brought fresh bites. Then my wife started showing lumps and she rarely gets bitten. At one stage I counted fifteen on the back of her neck.

Our first thought was that maybe it was an infestation of bed bugs. I had been spending a lot of time lying in bed following back surgery and we figured that maybe due to prolonged heat on the bed some creatures had invaded our bedding. Apparently, bed bugs leave evidence of their presence but there were no tell-tale signs that we could see.

In any case, we stripped the bed, hoovered the mattress, sprayed it, scoured the bedroom carpet and curtains and washed everything. We opened all the windows and even moved into a spare room for a few days to allow plenty ventilation, but new bites kept appearing. My wife was getting bitten more than I was which was really strange.

The enemy was invisible. You can see horseflies and you can hear mosquitoes and you can often see a tiny speck of blood on a pillow or a sheet following a visit from a mozzie but we could see nothing. It was very frustrating.

We have a small room downstairs that doubles as a cloak room and an office and because the weather had been so bad for a few weeks previously, we couldn’t get the washing out on the line, so we put two clothes horses in there.

The radiator was on, and the window was closed so between the dampness, the heat and the lack of ventilation, I thought that maybe we had created our own version of a rain forest. A nice tropical setting for insects to thrive in. At times I expected David Attenborough to pop out from behind the towels.

As part of my recovery, I was taking short regular walks in an area that was surrounded with trees and foliage and I reckoned I must have picked up something on my clothing and introduced the creature or creatures to their new environment.

This theory made sense especially as my son was never in there and he was bite free, so it all added up. That room was next to get the full treatment. We removed everything, opened the window, scrubbed and sprayed the place and the problem was solved; except it wasn’t.

My wife continued to be targeted so we narrowed it down to the sitting room. I was restricted to sitting on a hard chair, so I spent less time in there than she did. She would relax there watching the TV in the evening and, in the morning, fresh bites would appear, so we turned our attention to that room.

We briefly considered throwing out the couch, but sterilised every inch of the room instead, and the biting finally stopped. We never did find the culprits but on the positive side, the house is spotless now.