Trevor Laffan

There was an incident in America recently involving a politician and a reporter. Nothing new in that you might say. But it happened in Montana and if it’s a case of history repeating itself, then there could be some interesting times ahead.

Greg Gianforte has made a name for himself in the States. He’s the new Republican Congressman for Montana and he got into a bit of bother recently after he “body-slammed” a reporter.

He pleaded guilty in court to assault and the judge fined him $385. He was also given 40 hours community service and 20 hours of anger management counselling.

This isn’t the first time that a politician has been involved in controversy in Montana. Back in the 1860’s, the citizens of Bannack, a mining town in Montana, elected Henry Plummer as their new sheriff. Little did they know how controversial that decision would turn out to be.

William Henry Plummer was born in 1832 in Washington County, Maine and at the age of 19 he headed to San Francisco to seek fame and fortune during the great Gold Rush. He worked in a book shop until he saved enough money to buy a mine in Nevada County. Fellow businessmen were impressed with the young man and they persuaded him to run in the election for the position of town marshal.

Plummer won and he quickly earned a reputation as a good worker. He captured Jim Webster, a murder suspect who was terrorising two counties and took him into custody.

His first controversy happened when he became involved in the marital problems of a local couple, John and Lucy Vedder. Vedder was a gambler who battered and abused his wife. On one occasion, a passer-by heard cries coming from the house and he saw Vedder beating her. When Plummer heard about it, he sent in the police and a lawyer to advise her about getting a divorce. She took the advice and decided to leave her husband.

Vedder was hopping mad and decided to kill the marshal. He didn’t exactly keep his intentions to himself and he went around the town asking people if he could borrow a gun. On the night that Vedder’s wife was due to leave him, Plummer turned up at the house to offer some protection. Vedder came home armed with a pistol and fired twice at Plummer. He missed with both shots but Plummer didn’t, and he shot Vedder dead.

Plummer, however, was charged with second degree murder and was convicted. The judge sentenced him to 10 years in San Quentin. By this time, Plummer was ill with consumption and his condition was deteriorating rapidly. It looked like he was going to die. A petition was sent to the governor with the signatures of more than 100 officials who felt sorry for Plummer and the Governor granted a pardon on compassionate grounds.

He didn’t die though, he made a full recovery and went back to Nevada City to return to mining. Even though he was no longer in the business of law enforcement, he soon got involved in the citizen’s arrest of San Quentin escapee ‘Ten Year’ Smith.

He then came across another escapee, ‘Buckskin Bill’ Riley, and tried to arrest him too. When Riley whipped out his bowie knife and slashed the ex-marshal across the forehead, Plummer shot him dead. He was arrested and locked in a cell where his wound was stitched up. The police decided it was self-defence but they knew he wouldn’t get a fair trial, given his previous history, so they allowed him to make a run for it.

While on the run, Plummer and some companions went to a brothel where they caused more trouble. The owner was a man by the name of Ford and he threw them out. When they went to get their horses, Ford followed them and tried to shoot them. Plummer returned fire and killed Ford. The dead man’s Irish buddies gathered a mob together to lynch Plummer but he managed to escape.

He headed for Maine but he obviously had a nose for trouble. While at Fort Benton waiting for a steam ship, the agent of a government farm rushed into the fort, begging for volunteers to help him to defend his family against an anticipated Indian attack on the small holding.

Plummer, not one to turn his nose up at the prospect of a fight, agreed to help. A man called Jack Cleveland also agreed to go.

The Indian problem never materialised so he resumed his journey to Bannack in Maine. Jack Cleveland travelled with him. In Bannack, they were in a bar having a drink when Cleveland tried to provoke him into a fight. Plummer fired a warning shot into the ceiling but Cleveland wouldn’t back down.

He drew his gun so Plummer shot him and Cleveland died. Plummer found himself back in court charged with murder, but Bannack was a thriving mining town by then and a miners’ jury acquitted him. He was so well regarded by the miners that they elected him sheriff of Bannack.

As a lawman, he wanted to abolish lynching and mob rule. Ironically, in 1864, an armed mob went to Plummer’s cabin and dragged him outside. They marched him to some pine trees, bound his hands, slipped a noose over his head, and hung him.

The lynching of Henry Plummer is one of the great mysteries of the Wild West. Some said that he secretly led a band of outlaws who stole huge amounts of gold from the miners and killed more than 100 citizens. Others disputed that and said there was no evidence to support the claim.

In any event, they lynched him and after all he’d been through, he was still only 32 when he died.

If you happen to be in Cobh on Saturday morning next, 9th December, you will see a crowd gathered outside the Old Town Hall, next to the Well House Bar. You may very well wonder what they are doing there.

They will be there to remember a black day, 75 years ago, when the town of Cobh lost five of its citizens; John Higgins of Connelly Street, Francis Lloyd of King’s Street, Willie Duggan of Bellview, Frank Powell of Plunket Terrace, and Patrick Wilshaw of The Mall. They were all young men.

They lost their lives in the service of the State in an incident in Cork Harbour on 12th December 1942.

There are many who feel that this tragedy needs to be remembered but unfortunately, RTE’s Seacapes radio programme is not one of them. Seascapes is produced in Cork covering maritime matters, but obviously the Cork Harbour Tragedy, that occurred on its door step, is of little interest to them.

Having recorded a piece for the show to promote the event, I received an email from Fergal Keane, presenter of Seascapes, to say “Sorry for the delay and to tell you that I will be unable to use the interview. The brief I have been given is to move the programme more away from historical issues and to bring it out an about more.”

So, our story is not interesting enough for the listeners.

A promotion piece for one of their recent programmes declared; “On tonight’s programme, Fergal Keane speaks to members of the Connaught Angling Council about a decision by Inland Fisheries to review their policy of culling pike on Lough Corrib; more reflections from Dave Hennessy on his four-year around the world trip; and the plans to commemorate the centenary of the sinking of the Mail Boat Leinster next year.”

Fascinating stuff.

If, unlike Seascapes, you would like to know more about this tragic story, you can read it here: http://www.trevorlaffan.com/?p=391

Oglaigh Naisiunta na hEireann are organising the ceremony next Saturday, beginning with Mass in St. Colman’s Cathedral at 10.00am. Following that, wreaths will be laid outside the Old Town Hall, on behalf of the relatives of the deceased, Irish Naval Service, Cobh Branch ONE, Cork Harbour Pilot Boat Crews, Royal Naval Association and the National Maritime College of Ireland.

They were called traffic accidents once upon a time and then that changed to crashes. Now it seems that they are referred to as Road Traffic Collisions. Well, whatever you chose to call them, accidents, crashes or collisions, they happen regularly on our roads.

They come in all shapes and sizes and vary from fender benders to the more serious, involving death and serious injury.

The one thing that they all have in common though, is that they attract curious glances from people passing by. Whether it’s the sight of blood and guts or broken cars, the fact is that there are some who get a thrill from watching the scene of a crash.

It’s not unusual to see people slowing down at an accident and straining their necks to see what’s going on. It’s called ‘Rubber necking’. Other drivers will often take it a step further by parking their cars nearby and walking back to the scene to get a better look.

Gardai in Waterford took to Twitter to advise motorists that five drivers had been fined for using their mobile phones to film or photograph a traffic accident while they were driving their own cars. Their behaviour was described as dangerous and inappropriate, and rightly so. Why anyone would feel it necessary to photograph a crash site in the first place is beyond me.

Many years ago, I was at the scene of a serious accident in Cork. There was one car involved and it went straight into a wall after failing to take the corner. The steering wheel had become embedded in the driver’s stomach. He was leaning over the steering wheel, alive but unconscious.

The plan was to cut the steering column from the car and leave it attached to the driver for doctors to remove at the hospital. A fireman asked me to hold the drivers head up off the steering wheel while he cut it off. (The steering wheel, not the head).

As you can imagine, we were operating in a confined space and it was difficult work.

I suddenly became aware of movement next to me and I saw an individual trying to squeeze his head into the car. This guy had no business whatsoever being there, and he was getting in the way. I recognised him, and I knew he was not a member of the emergency services. He actually worked in a fast food outlet.

He parked his car across the road and came back for a gawk. Not only was he trying to see what was going on, but he was being a complete nuisance.

He was advised in plain English to remove himself from the car and he was lucky that one of the firemen didn’t land him in the ambulance. He seemed to be a little confused as to why people were getting annoyed with him and he obviously believed it was perfectly normal behaviour to be crawling over firemen.

The term rubbernecking is used to describe the actions of drivers who are trying to watch something happening at the side of the road instead of concentrating on driving. That has the potential to cause delays for other drivers and can also lead to further accidents.

Reacting to the scene of a crash is natural because people will be curious about the commotion. But when the cause is identified as a serious accident then the aim should be to get out of the way as quickly as possible and allow the professionals to do what needs to be done. Slowing down for a nose doesn’t help and getting in the way is definitely not recommended.

For most people, the prospect of seeing victims at the side of the road with severe injuries is a turn off. It’s enough to cause most of us to divert our gaze and to keep going. But that’s not the case for everyone.

But morbid curiosity is nothing new. There was a time when crowds were attracted to public hangings and there was only one reason they went. They wanted to see other humans coming to a sticky end.

Penal executions in early modern Europe were civic events and were considered to be a form of entertainment. Executions were organized by town officials and conducted in full view of the expectant public. The prisoners were paraded from the prison to the execution site and to the waiting spectators.

Public punishments such as whippings and executions, were always very popular and were normally well attended events. In the days before newspapers, they also served a practical purpose. By allowing the natives to see justice done, officials hoped to encourage others to think twice about committing crime.

In some cases, judges ordered the executions to be carried out at the scene of the crime. An early crime prevention technique if you like. These days we get crime prevention advice from An Garda Siochana and it’s a bit more civilised.

Back in the 18th century, executions were very much a spectator sport for all classes of society, the wealthy as well as the poor. Seats were arranged like grandstands at a football stadium and were very expensive. Two shillings (10p) was a lot of money in the 1700’s. These events attracted huge numbers of onlookers and the better off would rent rooms in houses opposite the gallows to get the best view.

In ancient Rome, large crowds gathered to watch Gladiators fight each other to the death. It was survival of the fittest. An underdog might be spared by the crowd to fight again but if a favourite lost, his fans could easily turn on him and call for his blood or maybe even his head.

So, it seems the thirst for blood and guts goes back a long way.

I watched a football match between Arsenal and Tottenham Hotspur, two north London clubs. There was some crowd trouble outside the stadium after the game and there was a photograph circulating on social media of a baby’s high chair soaring through the air.

Someone was using it as a missile but thankfully they had the good sense to take the child out of it first.

I saw another football game on the telly between Chelsea and West Ham. It was played in London and when Chelsea scored a goal, the players ran to celebrate near the touch line. Suddenly, this big, bald guy jumped over the advertising hoarding and made a run at Eden Hazard who had scored the goal for Chelsea.

The security guys were quick off the mark and they grabbed him but they had a struggle before they led him away. What struck me about him was the fact that he appeared to be so angry. He was behaving very aggressively towards the player as the stewards battled to restrain him.

He was shouting something and pointing at Hazard as if he wanted to kill him. Hazards only offence, as far as I could see, was that he scored a goal in a football match.

The other thing that stuck out for me was that this character is no spring chicken. As it turned out, he is 51 years of age and he was arrested on suspicion of pitch encroachment. I’m not sure why they put in the ‘suspicion’ bit.

He was seen by about 50,000 supporters at the game and a few million viewers on the TV. There would appear to be very little doubt that he is guilty of encroachment at least and maybe a couple of other things as well.

He was referred to by the media as a supporter, which is a bit of an insult to regular football fans who go to matches week in and week out and behave themselves. I would prefer to call him a hooligan and I suspect that West Ham and their genuine supporters would be happier if he took his support elsewhere.

In a separate incident, an Everton supporter was captured on TV trying to punch a player from the opposing team when they gathered near the advertising hoarding. He reached out over the hoarding and swung his arm at the player while holding a child in his other arm. Kind of brings babysitting to a whole new level.

Football is secondary to most of these characters. Thankfully he was identified and banned from attending further games. He’s not the only culprit either. So far, this season, West Ham have banned 97 fans for bad behaviour.

Football hooliganism was a huge issue back in the seventies in England. I can remember as a teenager going to a Leeds United match in 1972 and being terrified at the scenes I witnessed on the way to the stadium. Hundreds of fans from both sides were squaring up to each other and all the shop fronts were boarded up to protect the windows.

The violence that I experienced that day was really frightening but I thought that those days were long gone. That may not be the case.

Most of us find it difficult to understand this type of carry-on but one infamous English hooligan, Andy Nicholls, has written five books about football violence. He has admitted being an active football hooligan for 30 years while following Everton Football Club. He was classified as a Category C risk to the authorities which is the highest classification you can get.

He’s proud to have served prison sentences for his involvement in hooliganism and for being deported from countries all over Europe. He also boasts of being banned from attending football matches at home and abroad more times than he can remember. He says that he loved every minute of it.

“I have done most things in life—stayed in the best hotels all over the world, drunk the finest champagne and taken most drugs available. Nothing, however, comes close to being in your own mob when it goes off at the match, and I mean nothing.”

According to Nicholls, “We were there when you could get hurt—hurt very badly, sometimes even killed. Yes, it happened; on occasions, we killed each other. Football hooliganism in my day was a scary pastime.”

“There were also the times we spent following England, the craziest days of our lives. Up to 5,000 mindless thugs visiting and basically pillaging and dismantling European cities, leaving horrified locals to rebuild in time for our next visit.”
I suspect that most of us will struggle to understand that mentality. I dislike calling these guys fans because really, they are nothing but thugs and for them, the football is just incidental.

I heard it said one time that football is a gentleman’s game watched by thugs, while rugby is a thug’s game watched by gentlemen. There is no comparison between the supporters of both codes and why there should be such a vast difference in the way they behave is difficult to explain.

In rugby, for example, the referee is treated with respect. He is referred to as sir, his word is law and his decisions are not contested. In football, every time the referee blows his whistle he is surrounded by players all trying to influence his decision. The linesmen are also regularly subjected to abuse from players and others sitting on the benches.

Owen Farrell walked into a pub in Dublin after Saracens had defeated Munster in the semi-final of the European Cup. The pub was full of Munster fans who appreciated the great game that Farrell had played so they gave him a standing ovation.

Now, they’re the real fans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Chinese tourist was visiting Switzerland a few months ago and he fancied a drop of vintage Scotch whisky. So, he went into the hotel bar and had one and it cost him nearly €8,000. He didn’t even get to keep the bottle for that, he only had one drink.

The tourist was a millionaire so presumably the price didn’t bother him. He spotted the bottle of 1878 Macallan single malt behind the counter and decided that would do him. If the bottle was genuine, it would have carried a bar-value of €250,000. But it wasn’t.

The tourist and the hotel manager were photographed together with the bottle and suspicions were raised when whisky experts spotted discrepancies in the bottle’s cork and label. Tests later proved that the Scotch was distilled after 1970, almost one hundred years later than the year stated on the label.

The bottle had been in the hotel for about twenty-five years and it appears to have been a genuine mistake. The hotel reimbursed the customer in full and all’s well again. So maybe it doesn’t pay to be a connoisseur.

I’m very partial to a pint of Guinness, I like the taste of it. I don’t know how it’s made and I haven’t a clue about hops or barley. I have no idea what temperature the mixture needs to be at or how long it takes to ferment.

I do know that you don’t want to be drinking it if it has been sitting around since Italia 90 not to mind 1878. That wouldn’t be good for the internal organs.

If you don’t get a nice pint, you shouldn’t drink it because the consequences could be unpleasant. Fortunately, there are a couple of tell-tale signs that should alert your senses to the possibility that the pint is dodgy. The first might seem obvious but it’s the taste. The first mouthful of a bad pint should send a message directly to the brain. An experienced stout drinker will get it straight away.

The second sign is in the appearance. A good pint will leave rings on the glass as you drink it. If the glass looks as if it has just come out of a dishwasher while you are still drinking, then you have probably left it too late. It’s time to prepare for a dicky tummy and a bit of quality time on the loo. Make sure your phone is fully charged.

Best advice, if you’re not sure about it, is to leave it alone and have a pint of beer instead. One of the unfortunate aspects of being a stout drinker is that you must have your homework done before you go for a pint. Gather the local intelligence and select the right pub first.

For all that though, it’s not rocket science. Just find a bar that serves a decent pint and make it your home. Chances are that there will be other like-minded souls occupying the stools there who have also done their groundwork.

That got me thinking about wine drinkers and how they manage. On the face of it, choosing a wine seems like a complicated business. There are even people trained professionally, Sommeliers, to help you choose your wine and to make sure you don’t use the wrong wine with your food. Heaven forbid.

I was in Slovakia one time and I was brought to a well-known establishment for a wine tasting session. Session is probably not the right word, but you know what I mean.

The wines we tasted were apparently, top of the range. There was a ritual we had to follow. We had to raise the glass and look at it, hold it up to our nose and smell it, put it up to the light and look at it some more. Then slurp it, swill it around in the mouth, make some funny noises and then swallow. Then pour what’s left into a small bucket and rinse out the glass to be ready for the next round.

I got nothing out of the experience. There wasn’t any single outstanding wine for me and to be honest, it all tasted the same. I was a little concerned though for all the wine that was in the bucket. It seemed a waste to be pouring it down a drain.
Wine is a serious business but there is a huge amount of snobbery attached to it.

I’m not convinced that you need to know what country the grapes come from or how they were squashed before you buy a bottle. What difference does it make whether they were squeezed by hand or stamped on by a heap of maidens dancing barefoot as long as they washed their hands and didn’t have athletes foot.

Does it really need to be locked away in a darkened cellar in Transylvania for a thousand years before it tastes good? Is there really such a huge difference between a cork and a screw on cap? Will we wither and die if the red wine is chilled and the white is served at room temperature? Quite possibly, according to the wine gurus.

There is something very irritating about watching these people in action especially when they love to hear themselves. At the end of the day you beat some grapes to a pulp and pour the juice into a bottle and stick a fancy label on it. How complicated can that be?

Wine drinkers could make life a lot easier for themselves by going to a pub for a decent pint of stout. It comes in one colour, it won’t be covered in dust and cobwebs and you get more in your glass.

If you want to make a noise, you can belch when you’re finished and that’s perfectly acceptable.

On March 3rd, I logged onto the Cork County Council website and that time I found the website impossible to navigate and it kept sending me around in circles. I was advised that Corporate Affairs were working on a redesign and they hoped to have the new version online the following week.

That same day, I spoke to Mr. Paraig Lynch, Municipal District Officer, Cobh Municipal District. He advised me that the new website would be available shortly and the minutes of the district meetings as far back as 2014 would be included on the site.

I logged into the Cork County Council website this morning, 17th November 2017, and I found that not much has changed. I typed in “Cobh and Glanmire Municipal District Minutes” and I was given the option to examine ‘Raising Awareness’ or ‘Creative Ireland’. That wasn’t very helpful.

I did some more searching and I came up with the following:

Municipal District Meeting of West Cork (Minutes & Agenda)
Municipal District Meeting of Kanturk-Mallow (Minutes, Agenda to Follow)
Municipal District Meeting of Ballincollig-Carrigaline & Minutes Annual meeting July 2017 BallincolligCarrigaline MD
Municipal District Meeting of Ballincollig-Carrigaline (Agenda & Minutes)
Municipal District Meeting of Blarney-Macroom (Minutes)
Municipal District Meeting of Bandon-Kinsale (Minutes)
Municipal District Meeting of Fermoy (Minutes)

I couldn’t find anything for Cobh apart from a list of the local representatives.

Some councils have the ability to put their minutes online but it seems to be a bridge too far for Cobh. Even though Mr. Paraig Lynch insisted that “the new website would be available shortly and the minutes of the meetings as far back as 2014 would be available”, it hasn’t happened.

It’s difficult to understand how it can take a year to upload the minutes of a meeting onto a website. But that’s the story so far and as we approach 2018 it’s unlikely to change any time soon.

Cobh Municipal District Council prefers to act as a secret society and is determined to keep the rest of us in the dark. Maybe they have nothing to say in which case it might be time for a change.

Big Brother is a reality show that appears on TV from time to time. It is basically a programme about a bunch of people who are sent to live together in the same house and they’re filmed for twenty-four hours a day. The only privacy they have is when they go to the bathroom.

They’re given various tasks and they must compete against each other. Then they get on each other’s nerves and fight amongst themselves until they are voted out of the house, one at a time by the public, until only the winner is left.

In the early years, the winners gained a certain celebrity status and ended up making a decent living for themselves as a result but I don’t know if this is still the case. The first couple of shows were entertaining but after that they became a bit repetitive and predictable and I lost interest.

Recently, I discovered that there is a Celebrity Big Brother show on our screens. As the name suggests, the contestants are celebrities as opposed to ordinary mortals. But when I looked at the names of the people taking part, I couldn’t recognise anyone.

Sarah Harding, Trisha Paytas, Amelia Lily, Jemma Lucy, Paul Danan, Jordan Davies, Helen Lederer, Sandi Bogle, Brandi Glanville, Shaun Williamson, Marissa Jade, Derek Acorah, Dawn Ward, Chad Johnson, Sam Thompson and Rosanna Davison are some of the celebrity names.

Who are these people? I read a lot and I like to keep up with what’s going on in the world but these names meant nothing to me so who has determined that these people are celebrities?

Lord Snowdon, Princess Margaret’s former husband, died recently at the age of 86. He was a famous photographer in his own right and was probably best known for his photographs of the rich and famous including Jack Nicholson, Elizabeth Taylor, David Bowie, Laurence Olivier, Marlene Dietrich and thousands more.

In his heyday, he socialised with the Beatles, Peter Sellers and many other stars of the stage and screen. His life was punctuated with affairs and stories of over indulgence in alcohol and drugs, but throughout it all he maintained a close connection with the Royal Family. This helped to enhance his own celebrity and he eventually became as well-known as those he photographed.

He was a guy who knew what a celebrity was because he was very much a part of that whole scene so he must have despaired at how much things had changed. There are many who fill our screens and newspapers now that are classed as celebrities and as far as I can tell, they’re no more famous than my broken lawnmower.

There is one family kicking up a storm in the celebrity world and that’s the Kardashians. One of them is Kim and to the best of my knowledge, she first came to the attention of Joe public because of her friendship with Paris Hilton.

Hilton was only famous because her dad owned a few hotels and she was getting attention because she had too much money and was behaving like a spoiled brat. Kardashian was her pal so she was getting noticed too.

Kim Kardashian grew up and got married and now she and her strange husband, are treated like royalty wherever they go. They have the power to bring traffic to a complete standstill when they are in town.

She dominated the headlines again recently when she announced that she is expecting her third child and she can grab the attention of nations with her pronouncements: ‘White is actually one of my favourite colours. I have a white car. I love white.’

I saw footage of Mr. West leaving his hotel and he was trying to cover his face so that he wouldn’t be recognised. As far as I’m concerned, he needn’t have bothered because if he walked up to my front door and rang the bell I wouldn’t know him.

When I think of celebrities, I think of The Kennedys, Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, Frank Sinatra, Madonna and Pele. They earned celebrity status because they were in the public eye for ever and they did something that was notable in some way. Not always for the right reasons either like the late Oliver Reed and Richard Harris.

They both had reputations for being heavy drinkers and hell raisers but they were very talented actors behind it all. People wanted to see them and wanted to be seen with them and that is a true test of celebrity status.

So, maybe social media is responsible for creating this mock fame. Anyone can take a selfie or post a video of themselves on YouTube. Add some clever marketing and it’s possible to create a high profile even if your only talent is picking your nose.

It can’t be easy trying to be a celebrity if nobody knows who you are and it’s not ideal pretending to be famous if you have to be introduced to everyone you meet. But it works for some.

So, I’m going to have a go at it. As and from today, I’m claiming celebrity status for myself. I am well known within my family circle and a few of my neighbours know me. I hang around with the rich and famous too, like Tommy Tiernan.

Well, actually, we shared a flight a few years ago and he was sitting a few rows ahead of me. I did meet Charlie Haughey though.

I’m available for public appearances for a modest fee but feel free to take photos of me whenever you see me out and about. You can approach me for an autograph or just to shake my famous hand.

Don’t take any notice when I tell you to get lost, that’s only for show.

 

 

My three-year old grandson, Cooper, has introduced me to Fireman Sam over the last couple of years and we have watched quite a bit of it on TV together. So much of it in fact, that there are times when I find myself humming the signature tune when I’m out in public.

A man of a certain age, singing songs from children’s TV programmes, while walking along the street, is guaranteed to get himself noticed. And not in a good way.

Not everybody likes him though. Fireman Sam is 30 years old this year and London Fire Brigade Commissioner, Dany Cotton, says that there’s “no such thing as a fireman” and that it’s time to “shake off outdated language”. On the cartoon’s 30th birthday, London’s first female commissioner has called on its creators to bring Sam up to date.

She said she has written to the makers of ‘Fireman Sam’ and asked them to reconsider naming him ‘Firefighter Sam’ to join in on the inclusive nature. She likes the fact that it’s a cartoon that educates people and helps children learn about the dangers of fire. But she would like him to come on board and be called ‘Firefighter Sam’.

Ms. Cotton surely has more pressing matters to attend to than the trials and tribulations of an animated fireman, fireperson or firefighter. I would have thought that pouring cold water on a children’s cartoon is hardly a burning issue for the fire chief. (Sorry, couldn’t resist it).

Having said that, children’s programmes are big business.
Fireman Sam is an animated children’s programme set in a fictional village in Wales, called Pontypandy and Sam is the local hero. There are many other characters in the show but the rest of the village is made up mainly of a shop, a café and some houses with a population of about fifty.

Pontypandy is not a safe place to live in. In fact, it’s one of the most dangerous villages on the Planet and it’s always on fire but nobody ever dies despite all the carnage.

Sam’s boss, Station Officer Steele, is useless but thinks he’s great. Not unlike some bosses I’ve come across in my time.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re saying to yourself that this poor guy is losing his marbles if he spends his days watching cartoons. But there’s method in my madness and I’ll tell you why.

According to Dr. Laurel Steinberg, a New York based psychotherapist, kids’ cartoons can be a support treatment for people suffering from stress because they incorporate themes like community order, friendship, family and teamwork. The fact that good always wins over evil and the sun will always shine tomorrow is a positive message.

That can help to restore optimism and give someone a break from worrying or feeling sad, all of which can elevate their mood. Some cartoons can also be educational and can teach kids to count or say the alphabet. Dr. Steinberg also believes that cartoons can reduce anxiety and depression.

Not only are cartoons good for your health, but they also provide an additional benefit. They can substantially increase the size of your bank balance. Fireman Sam has been translated into twenty-five languages and is shown in over 40 countries and is making a pot load of money for the creators.

Peppa Pig, is another cartoon that features a little female pig. Peppa lives with her younger brother George, and her parents, Daddy and Mammy Pig. Their favourite past-time is jumping in muddy puddles. They look a bit strange and not a lot happens in the episodes but Cooper loves it.

He’s obviously not the only one because Peppa is a global brand. In 2015 the three guys who created her sold 70% of their company for nearly £150 million and last year it was predicted that the cartoon was on its way to becoming a £1.4bn global brand as TV and merchandise sales took off in the US, France and Asia.

But by far, Coopers favourite programme is ‘Ryan’s Toy Review.’ Ryan is a six- year old boy who lives in America with his parents. They film him as he opens boxes of toys and plays with them. It is a very simple formula. The kid plays with different toys while the parents record his activities and then the videos are uploaded to YouTube.

They started doing this in 2015 and already it is the fastest growing channel on YouTube and he now has an estimated net worth of something in the region of $18 million.

It all started when Ryan was watching similar videos and he asked his parents why he wasn’t on TV like the other kids? So, they decided to give it a go. They saw it as a bit of fun and a great way for them to spend some time together as a family.

They soon realised they were getting a lot of hits on the Internet and in no time, they were attracting millions of viewers. In less than two years they have achieved well over 11 billion views. Not bad for a high school chemistry teacher and a structural engineer with no prior experience on YouTube.

It seems incredible that such a simple idea could prove to be so popular and such a money spinner. Ryan is like kids everywhere, he loves playing with toys. The only difference here is that his parents film him doing it and instead of playing with his friends, he’s playing with those toys for an online audience of millions. Ryan’s toy reviews are so popular that he was the second biggest channel on YouTube by March 2016.

That’s given me an idea. I have the camera and a few bits of Lego, now I just need Cooper to cooperate.

First, there were a million false breath tests recorded by An Garda Síochána computer systems, then we learned that a further 500,000 false tests were recorded but not carried out. Assistant Commissioner Michael O’Sullivan reported that a large number of gardaí were just making up figures.

The leader of the Garda Representative Association (GRA), Pat Ennis, said that his association believed that his members were instructed to inflate figures and claimed that pressure was applied on members to do so.

Mr Ó Cualáin, the acting Garda Commissioner, said that his management has asked Assistant Commissioner O’Sullivan to establish if there is evidence of the allegation that management in some way were putting pressure on frontline members.

Nobody seems to be able to explain how it happened but authorities are determined to find out. They have stated that disciplinary action may have to be taken against a number of gardaí. The breath-test report does not specify how many gardaí may face sanction and neither does it directly criticise senior garda management. That is very convenient but not surprising.

Noirin O’Sullivan, the recently retired Garda Commissioner, had previously told the Policing Authority that consequences arising from this scandal, including possible disciplinary action, would be considered.

She said it went all the way down the organisational structure of An Garda Síochána and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Senior management in An Garda Siochana were quick to take the high moral ground.

As far as I am concerned, there is no mystery as to how this happened. It’s highly unlikely that Mr Ó Cualáin will find any culpable senior officer because I don’t believe that there was a deliberate policy to inflate numbers for the simple reason that there is little to be gained from it. The blame for this fiasco is down to a culture that has existed for decades.

Much has been said about this culture but few know what is meant by it. To me, it’s best to think of it in terms of habit. A habit of doing things a certain way because that’s the way they were always done and the expertise wasn’t there to change it. To understand that, you must consider another term used daily by An Garda Siochana. It’s called a ‘Return’ and it involves counting.

A ‘return’ covers a multitude but is mainly used as a form of accountability. Returns measure the number and condition of physical assets in the organisation to help in the preparation of a budget strategy. All very useful stuff.

But there are other returns that simply drive people nuts because they don’t seem to serve any purpose and they take forever to prepare. Nevertheless, they’re required because it’s the habit that has developed over time.

During my thirty-five years in the Force, making returns was, at times, more important than actual police work. When I was responsible for community policing in Cork City I did my share of counting and I spent a vast amount of time drafting useless returns. At times, they were nothing short of ridiculous.

A huge amount of information was collected, collated and calculated that was of little use to anyone. This went on in every garda station all over the country and it took a lot of time and energy to put all this stuff together.

For example, there were thirty-three community gardaí scattered across the length and breadth of Cork from Carrigaline to Ballincollig and from Blarney to Mahon including everything in between. I was regularly asked for returns on how many foot patrols were carried out by these members and how many meetings they attended. Sometimes, these returns were required monthly.

What exactly constitutes a meeting is something that I could never quite figure out. Is it only a meeting if it lasts a certain length of time or is it a requirement that minutes are taken? Or if a community garda met an official from the local authority while walking along the street and they had a chat, should that be recorded as a meeting?

Given that the primary role of a community policing officer is to engage with the community and to meet people, it’s reasonable to assume that over the period of a month, thirty-three gardaí could notch up a fair few meetings. How these were supposed to be recorded in the first place was lost on me but why they needed be counted at all was a complete mystery.

Similarly, recording the number of foot patrols carried out by these officers over a monthly period seemed to be another fruitless exercise. What did it matter whether the figure was twenty or twenty thousand? Nobody could explain to me why it was necessary but it was another required return. It was part of the culture.

I represented only small part of the organisation but I made lots of returns. Thousands of other members did the same thing in other stations. There was no shortage of them and most of us considered them to be a pure nuisance and a waste of time.

Returns generated volumes of paper but they weren’t always taken seriously by those compiling them. They weren’t always accurate either and guesswork played a large part in adding up some of the numbers. Some of these returns were so silly that figures were often plucked out of the sky.

That’s the reality of it and the people who are now looking for scapegoats made these same returns while they worked their way up the ladder of success. They would do well to remember that.

If they want to blame someone for dodgy numbers, then they should include every member of An Garda Siochana, past and present, since 1922. Probably thirty or forty thousand of them, but that’s just a guess.

 

Ophelia paid us a visit last week and left a trail of destruction after her but she’s not the only one causing damage in Cork.

Thousands of euro of damage was done to an all-weather football pitch in Knocknaheeny in Cork city some time ago when a stolen car was driven around it, tearing up the surface. The car burst through the gates causing the damage and was then burnt out and abandoned. It was just left there.

There was another incident a few weeks before that when the gates were rammed by a stolen car but it failed to get through. The second incident occurred while the club was in the process of fixing the gates after the first time. This is a facility that is there for the benefit of the community so why damage it?

Graffiti has been making an unwelcome comeback in the city as well with Evergreen Street and Barrack Street among the latest victims. One of our top tourist areas, Blarney, suffered recently when the local schools and the church were targeted by graffiti vandals.

Throughout the 1980’s and 1990’s there was a serious issue in Cork city with vandalism. Schools, sports clubs, cars, trains, bus shelters and even buses were regular targets. It was open season on all property. There was high unemployment, rising crime and stolen cars were a regular feature on the streets at night.

State agencies and community groups helped to improve that situation but it didn’t happen overnight. It probably took closer to twenty years of dedicated effort by many to bring about change.

I had hoped that we had learned something from those dark days but maybe not. Winston Churchill said that those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Let’s hope that is not the case in Cork but the signs are not encouraging.

Cork City Council have said that there are 172 life buoys in the city and 300 are bought every year to replace those that have been lost or vandalised. I think they are now referred to as ring buoys, but anyway, this means that Cork City Council is spending €15,000 a year on replacements. But it’s not just about the money.

A ring buoy is designed to be used as a life saving device when someone enters the river. It has only one purpose and that is to stop someone from drowning and yet there are plenty of idiots who think it’s entertaining to chuck them into the water on their way home from the local boozer.

It’s not only happening in Cork either. Wexford is now becoming used to finding life buoys floating down the river or dumped somewhere else in a tangled mess. It’s probably happening everywhere and there are other casualties besides the ring buoys.

The city’s first public defibrillator, another valuable life-saving device, was damaged twice in the space of a few hours. It was located on the wall at the entrance to Penneys on Oliver Plunkett Street and it was vandalised at a cost of around €2,500 each time. Recently, the defibrillator was damaged for the seventh time so now it’s being stored inside Penneys, which makes it inaccessible after close of business.

The Mallow Search and Rescue team and the Credit Union installed a defibrillator in the town. Recently, the box containing the equipment was damaged so the defibrillator had to be removed until such as time as the box has been repaired.

Ring buoys and defibrillators are located in public areas for a reason. They are supposed to be easily accessible to the public. There isn’t much point in having these things locked away in a tamper-proof metal cage. They exist for emergency situations when someone’s life is at risk. How is it possible that there are still so many out there who just don’t get that?

A Bill is before the Seanad, which if implemented, would mean that stealing or damaging life-saving equipment, such as life buoys or defibrillators, could incur a jail term or a fine of up of €50,000. That might help to concentrate the minds of the offenders. Or would it?

I saw a photograph in the Irish Examiner of two guys standing side by side on a street in Cork. One had a paint brush in his hand and the other was holding an Irish flag on a small stick. These guys were going around the city painting over the English version of street names and leaving only the Irish name visible.

They described it as “direct action to remove the name of Victoria, the Famine Queen”, from street name signs in Cork. According to them, the Famine was an act of genocide against the Irish people and they intended the direct civil disobedience to continue. They were proud that they were doing it openly and they took full responsibility for their actions and were prepared to face charges if necessary, to highlight their cause.

In my opinion, these two characters committed acts of criminal damage to public property and they should be called to answer for this nonsense. It is an insult to the efforts of all those who strive to make the city a better place.

There is enough damage caused to property from natural events like Hurricane Ophelia, without deliberately adding to the destruction ourselves. But then, there’s no accounting for human nature.

At the height of the hurricane there were plenty of people who ignored the advice from the authorities to stay indoors. There were some who went swimming and walking on piers, putting their own lives and the lives of others at risk. So, I suppose there will always be those who just don’t get it.

But then, maybe life would be dull without the village idiots.