Booking this for next year - fancy joining me?

I've always loved the idea of doing this:



The things people will do for cheese, eh?

So, fancy coming along? Here's what happened this year.

Mrs Doyle has a blog

This lovely lady?



Well, okay, THIS lovely lady:



has a blog. I've just found it. It's pretty fekken cool.

I met Pauline McLynn in her Father Ted days wandering around my home town and she graciously agreed to do a radio interview with me. I reminded her of that volunteering at this year's Cat Laughs. Wonder if she'd consent to a blog one? :-P

Just in case, what would you ask her if you could? And don't say "for a cup of tea". Especially not you. ;o)

(What do you mean you thought my mammy was blogging? Have you read this? No way!)

Ophidiophobia: Do you have a snake phobia?

Then perhaps you better look away now...

This boy didn't

Actual exchange between them (with very strong 'dubalin' accents):
Boy: Ahhh he won't go in ta me tee-shurt!
Girl: Well, he probly doesn't want to smell yer sweahh!

This boy didn't...





and typically, this blogger didn't either...



How about you?

I don't mean to make light of this phobia by the way. This was a small, harmless corn snake. I googled the phobia and found Haven Hypnotherapy in Dublin who may be able to help.

There were Wham bars too

The tuck shop at the weekend. Yummy.

Photos from the Dublin Levitation Festival

Well, Rick called it that. Kings of Concrete took place over the weekend. Amazing event, weather, skills from all ages and fun. Some of my N95 photos of the levitations talent:

















and my personal - how the hell did I get this one - favourite:



More on the event to follow :)

There was an old lady...

Get it yet?



Just some of the amazing graffiti up around Christchurch and Wood Quay in Dublin at the weekend. More to follow :)

This Monday's tune

Last week's song was a bit bouncy, apparently.

Primal Scream's Movin' On Up is even better.



The video looks like it was great fun to make, too.

Support via Twitter

Damien blogged about why he likes Twitter.

Here's one of the main reasons I do:



I'm chuffed so many people thought it worth their while to listen and to lend their support.'Twas an interesting experience. Thank you all :o)

A little more about me(mes)

In advance of tonight's show, it would be remiss of me not to complete the Meme set to me by the wonderful B of Positive Boredom recently:

It's called Getting Your Goat and it, of course, has rules:

1. List two things that irritate you for a reason, and list the reason, and two things that irritate you for no apparent reason whatsoever
   
   
2. Give credit to the person who tagged you
   
   
3. Link your answers to the original blog - Keiron over on http://www.skillett.com must be delighted with the traffic :o)
   
   
4. Tag four new people to participate

So then: Things that irritate me for a reason:

I'll probably highlight just how petty I can be about certain things here but I trust you'll indulge me, especially in my first one: Apostrophes and misspellings on signs and posters.

Seriously, I know there's so many bloggers out there who share this, but recently I saw this picture over on Apostrophe Abuse (great blog!) and didn't believe it was true. I had to see for myself, so I did and guess what? It was :o( Major fail!



And in a coffee shop close by:



This one from Letterkenny is one of my favourites... of course maybe there is "Origional art" (top right) and I'm wrong...



and I've blogged this one before but it's worth it again:



and while I understand it's a local idiom or the vernacular or just the way they speak, this headstone, also from Letterkenny (outside a shop may I add) made me smile with the use of Yous:



Secondly it's people dropping litter. Especially parents who allow their children to drop rubbish on the streets and (a) not chastising/teaching the child and even worse (b) not picking it up! Holy need of a bin Batman. I don't think I can write more about this without venturing into rant territory.

Things that irritate me for no good reason:

Many people have commented on umbrellas, which I share, but also people popping balloons both freak me out and annoy me.



Don't get me wrong - balloons are lovely and fun and I don't run screaming at the sight of them. I just hate loud noises and the thought of these things popping near me? Not nice, not nice at all. Let them float or make the animals or whatever, but why burst it? It's not *that* funny.

I mean look at the faces of these delighted children at the Street Performance World Championships. Awww!



And the other one is seeing, and hating, the way I look in certain photos. I don't mean the ones I've posed for - I mean the ones that show a side of me that I'm not comfortable with.



The wonderful Davy MacDonald sent me this photo recently - and I just don't like it. Despite my posts about comfort with myself this is just a side of me that I'm neither familiar or comfortable with. And the fact that I don't like that annoys me even more.

I mean there are plenty of embarrassing photos of me out there where I've posed for them (and probably plenty more after tonight) but still. I'm sure there are people who feel the same. Do you?

Credit to the person who tagged me:

Well B'dum. This one is for you. I like your blog - I like the sporadic nature of your topics, your enthusiasm and your sheer talent in bringing out what interests you. You hop from personal interests to topical to bizzare with such ease. You also comment on so many blogs it's bewildering. I hope there's a category for great people like you at the next blog awards. I'll be nominating you.

(That's what they meant by credit, right? :o))

Finally it's tagging 4 new people to do this. It seems like this has spread right around the blogosphere. Look at some of the people who have participated since July 7:

• Grandad
• Lottie
• Andrew
• Little Miss
• English Mum
• Darren
• David Maybury
• K8 the Gr8
• Sam at Problemchildbride
• Kirk M at Just Thinkin
• Jefferson Davis
• Digital Darragh
• Marlys at Senior Writer

And they're only the ones I know about!

but there are new blogs (and commenters here) that I've found recently. So in lieu of Damien's own fluffy meme, I'm extending the invitation to them and hope they'll join in:

• Gav and Ciara - really loving your blog guys. Care to give this a go?
• Sinéad K - would love to see what you come up with.
• Batman fan Pedro - what gets your goat?
• Richie over at Fitzy's cloud - care to give it a go?
• Jen at Little Bird Eats - something different for your blog?
• Klara McDonnell - leave aside that guitar or script and give this a shot?
• Will Knott - I haven't seen this on your blog yet, sir. How about it?
  
• Marie - I know you've probably been tagged, but give it a go :)
• Nathalie - have you been tagged yet?
• Lyndar the merciless - be merciful for this one please ;o)
• Dardardrinks - can you leave the paving aside long enough to give it a go?
• Anthony - sure you might as well!
• Ben at Hairyfish - good man, for me, please?

Please feel free to add your own too!

I love the whole world, Boom De Ah Dah

I cannot believe I haven't seen or heard of this before. The hair on my arms are tingling. It was the same when I first saw Matt Harding's video, or Paul Potts' first time on BGT ("So, you work in carphone warehouse, and you did that?"), or watching this Discovery Channel tribute.



It does explain this, though!

Newstalk 106-108fm tomorrow: all about Memes

Thanks to Piaras, I've been invited to the Newstalk studios tomorrow from 7pm to contribute to a discussion on Culture Shock, the Arts and Culture show with host Fionn Davenport and ENN writer (and laptop destroyer) Emmet Ryan.

We'll be talking about internet memes:

The term Internet meme is a neologism used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet. (Wikipedia)

So, that's everything from Matt Harding to XKCD, from LOLcats to the Arte y Pico award, from tagged memes to Cowen's Downfall. It could be Sophie Merry to the success of Twitter.

Broadly, memes also cover the success of "this-is-cool-and-happening" blogs like Rick's, Jazzbiscuit and The Chancer. On a strategic level it contributes to the rise of personal brands and indeed how blogging itself could be seen to be one big meme.

That one is my personal favourite, simply the hope that sometimes, people see other blogs, they see the way they write, what they write about and think "I could do that too. I'll give it a go". I love to see it happen.

Culture Shock is on from 7pm to 9pm every Saturday evening on Newstalk 106-108FM. You can listen on the website. We'll be on in the first hour.

What are your favourites memes? Have you any examples or any links to share? Let me know :)

Poor Barry Fearns, don't mind them.

On the way up to IMMA yesterday evening, I spotted this unique bit of graffiti:



and on the way back, on the other side of the road, spotted this one:



I know it's cruel, but is it funny?

Happy 31st Birthday Martyn

Hello there Martyn, I'm Darragh, a friend of your sister Mary.

I know it's weird of me to write to you, considering we've never spoken or met, but I'd like to wish you a Happy Birthday today.

I've been friends with your little sister for over a year now. In that time I've found her to be one of the sweetest, most caring people I've ever met. Though we're very different, her and I, we have a slightly strange connection that makes for a very strong friendship.

We've often talked about you. She's fond of all her brothers but you hold a special place in her heart, and I think that's why I'm writing to you now. She's often told me what a great guy you are, how you're the bestest brother anyone can have. You sound like someone I'd like to have a pint with.

Your sister has probably changed from the little girl you grew up with. The little girl who you were so protective of, who was your sister even though she was adopted and who once whacked you in the eye with a well thrown hairbrush causing your primary school teachers to believe you'd been in a fight, rather than sweet innocent Mary causing the damage. She still causes divilment the odd time :o).

I'm proud to know your sister. I know you'd be proud of her. She constantly surprises me with how she thinks with her heart and how she cares about people.

Yesterday she told us about you. We were discussing grief after death - a friend of ours is finding it difficult to come to terms with the death of her uncle eight days ago. She wondered if it was strange that she mourned his loss so much, even though he was 'just' her uncle. She needed good advice, support and empathy.

Your sister wrote her one of the most poignant, thoughtful things I have ever read online. It took my breath for a moment. She wrote it, Martyn, about your tragic death in a car accident 11 years ago.

You shouldn't have to bury your feelings, it would be my brother's 31st birthday tomorrow if he were still alive, he's dead just over 11 years and believe me it NEVER gets easier, yes you learn to deal with it and you don't break down as often, but it will ALWAYS be there and it will never fully go away.

I know I still miss my brother dreadfully and I always will and I do still have days where I sit and cry and cry and cry.

Your uncle wasn't 'just' your uncle, he was a person you obviously loved and thought a great deal of and you are therefore allowed to grieve for as long as you like.

There is no time frame for grieving, there's no such thing as, ok he's dead a week, a month, a year or whatever, now get over it and stop grieving, you will grieve for him for the rest of your life but it will be in a different way.

My nieces know all about my brother, even though they were all born years after he was killed, and any children I have will know about him and I'll always talk about him and remember him and have pictures of him around me.

I'm sorry I'll never have the chance to meet you, Martyn. You'd be proud of your sister, a beautiful woman who still loves you, still misses you and will celebrate your birthday today, remembering the brilliant big brother you were and the part of her life, her heart that you are and will always be.

Rest in peace, sir. Your sister is doing great, with friends that love her and will be thinking of you both, and your family, today.

Aw, thank you Marian!

Well aren't you the sweetest person ever?

"... I have something you might like, I had forgotten I had it so it needs a new (better home), send me your address and I'll send it on to you..."

They arrived safely today :)



What a thoughtful gift!

I'd send you a Thank You card but they'd be nowhere near as good as yours.

I'll think of something though. Where did I leave that recipe book? :o)

Boards, bikes, balls and beats this weekend

Skateboarders, trick bike riders, jugglers, drummers, graffiti artists, breakdancers, bmxers, DJs, generally groovy people and more. It's all happening in Dublin this weekend.

I'm looking forward to volunteering for the first time at the Kings of Concrete Festival, which is happening on Wood Quay in Dublin Saturday and Sunday. And yes, it's free.



Put together by the lovely people at Micromedia and a lot of talented people devoting their time, this is a festival celebrating all things great about street art, culture and sports, something I admire but know very little about!



They're taking over the space at the Dublin City Council offices (just down from Christchurch) from 11am to 6pm on Saturday and Sunday. The set up looks amazing - skate ramps, workshop areas, food markets, free running and a chill out zone. If the weather holds it could be a lot of fun! Here's a map of the place:


(Click for bigger)
In a city with such a strong and alternative youth culture, brimming with amazing art, unique styles, creativity and a hunger to try new things, it's great to see space and time for this side of things being committed. From the official MySpace page:

"For a variety of reasons this faction of youth culture has remained largely unsupported and underdeveloped in Ireland. For too long we have had to find street spots off our own bat just to participate in the sports we are most passionate about. These spots typically have been unofficial and illegal. All too often security have removed skaters abruptly calling to a halt an otherwise perfect day.



Kings of concrete is a celebration of this recent transformation. We hope to help build and sustain a platform to promote the wonderful variety of activities available for youth culture in Ireland today such as skating, inline blading, BMX, break dancing and graffiti amongst others."

You can view the full timetable below, or check out their official MySpace or Bebo pages. It's going to be fun!


(Click for bigger)

Get there early to sign up for workshops and so on. Hope to see you there. I'll be the old man looking for stabilisers for the skateboard.

Batman, The Dark Knight: I didn't like it

I wanted more.

Thanks to my favourite Irish website, Movies.ie I saw the new Batman movie tonight (Tuesday) at the Savoy in Dublin.

There will no doubt be a vast amount of reviews up - I'm greatly anticipating Darren's, who bounced around outside the Savoy in his excitement afterwards. Yet I can't say I was as thrilled as he or Rick seemed to be.



If you haven't seen Batman Begins yet, you may as well stop here. The film that defined the hero, redefined the genre and gave us back Batman, rescued from the silicon masked, rubber suited parody that he'd become under the "care" of Joel Schumacher who gave us the cringeworthy Batman Forever and Batman & Robin.

Christopher Nolan did away with the cartoon that Batman had become and redesigned him into something believable, someone human, somebody cool. Batman Begins set up the story with Bale's Bruce Wayne as a man driven by his demons to rid the city his father has worked so hard to fight. He has a worthy enemy - the League of Shadows, a group set to rid the world of decadence:

a check against human corruption for thousands of years... Gotham's time has come. Like Constantinople or Rome before it the city has become a breeding ground for suffering and injustice. It is beyond saving and must be allowed to die.

His triumph against Ra's Al Ghul is well fought, well planned and executed with flair. Gotham's problems aren't fixed, but Batman's presence is necessary. The movie was fantastic, with nods to its heritage but a firm grip on its own identity.



The Dark Knight's Gotham is different. Supposedly only a few weeks after the end of the first movie, the sense of hunger, of desperation and of panic is missing. Criminals are less confident, the police more so. Supposedly a city in the grip of Mob rule, Gotham shows no sign of the rampaging fear that should be caused by the release (and presumable failure to capture) of its top criminals from the secure wing of its criminal psychiatric hospital.

Instead we're presented with a city who carries on, happy to ignore the crime, almost waiting for something big to occupy its time instead.

And when that happens, boy does it happen.

Bruce Wayne: I knew the mob wouldn't go down without a fight. But this is different. They crossed the line.
Alfred Pennyworth: You crossed the line first, sir. You squeezed them, you hammered them. And in their desperation they turned to a man they didn't fully understand.

At no point during the film did I once look at



and think



Ledger was incredible. This was the Joker. Jack Nicholson may have brought a maniacal clown to the screen in true Nicholson style, a version of Batman's enemy; but Ledger was The Joker, an excitable, twisted, sadistic and oh so brilliant character, who delivered his lines with delight.

Bank Manager: The criminals in this town used to believe in things. Honor. Respect. Look at you! What do you believe in? What do you believe in!
The Joker: I believe whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you... stranger.

"Do I really look like a man with a plan, Harvey? I don't have a plan. The mob has plans, the cops have plans. You know what I am, Harvey? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do if I caught one. I just *do* things. I'm a wrench in the gears. I *hate* plans ...

I am not a schemer. I show schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are ... I'm a man of simple tastes. I like gunpowder...and dynamite...and gasoline!"

In a strange way I wanted to see the Joker triumph. I wanted to see what he'd do with the power he got, the anarchy he caused, the mania he possessed. In one of my favourite scenes, and quite possibly the most visually appealing in the movie, The Joker blows up a hospital. He saunters away from the building and delights in its destruction. I wanted to see more of that. I wanted to see Gotham burn.





But no. Batman is there. Of course Batman is there. Even when it all goes horribly wrong and Bruce Wayne - or any reasonable hero - should have thought "Ah feck this, let someone else do it" good old Batman heads out there, this time on a very cool steed, to sort the bad boys out. His methods are ingenious, but as with any effective plan, it's over far too quickly. It looked too easy. I wanted it to be more difficult.



As much as I would love to see Ledger be nominated for his role in this movie, I hope Aaron Eckhart does equally as well. His talent and charisma were evident in his performance and he acted the role of "a bit square but actually I'm alright" DA Harvey Dent brilliantly. In Batman Begins we followed the evolution of Bruce Wayne to its dark conclusion - this time the transformation is in Dent. Again, I felt that he wasn't given enough, he wasn't used enough. He didn't get enough opportunity to scare. I believed in Harvey Dent. I believed in what he became a lot more.



The Dark Knight fulfils what any good sequel is supposed to do. It expands the story, gave us more characters and a greater view into existing, familiar ones. Michael Caine as Alfred was excellent - a suitable foil to Bale's Bruce Wayne. Gary Oldman as Gordon, Morgan Freeman as Fox and Maggie Gyllenhall as a very different-from-the-first-character Rachel Dawes all fantastic in their roles. The cinematography flawless, the special effects wonderful. One of the features I became most conscious of was the sound editing, and if there's any justice the wizards behind the sound effects this time will sweep the Oscar board.



The film is almost two and a half hours long and there were scenes that dragged, places where my mind wandered, plot devices that could have been better with a bit more thought and time. All very easy for me to say I know, but dammit, I'm not satisfied. I said to Niamh on the way out - I have to see it again. I couldn't take it in. I have to return. And I will. I think I'll find better seats on a quieter showing and re immerse myself. I'll stop looking for the nods, the references, the "did you see that card, well that meant..." bits and just enjoy it.



I didn't just like The Dark Knight. I loved it. it may not be the "best movie ever", but it's so close that it's difficult to say why it's not. Maybe it didn't go far enough. Perhaps it's the storyline, perhaps that needs work. We may never know what parts were taken out because of Ledger's death, or see now what could have been, but it's an epic that should only be better with repeat viewings.

Even as I write this my mind is racing with the possibilities of the next one. Bale says he'll do it if Christopher Nolan directs. I think it would be a brave director who'd try replace him. The potential is incredible and the third one could well be the best movie ever made. If I could I'd book my tickets now. I'll just have to make do with the Dark Knight, Thursday, again.

Great to meet so many bloggers - Pinky, David, Anthony, Sinéad, Damien and Rick were all there, as were Neil Delamere and Brian Kennedy. Swit swoo, or what?

They're discussing the movie now over on Movies.ie - I'm off to share my thoughts. If you've seen it and have any comments, I'd love to hear them.

Images taken, lovingly, from the best Dark Knight blog ever.

One of those days

I know what Lottie's getting at. This song has become an anthem for me today:



One of those days by The Centuries.

Celebrities: what a crowd of muppets

Both Darren and Rick have covered Sesame Street this week. I was beginning to feel left out inspired. So here, gratuitous celebrity lookalikes - in fact some are so uncanny you'd have to wonder where they got the inspiration:

























All these and more on TMZ. The Elmo one is just scary.

Who's your favourite Sesame Street / Muppet show muppet, and if you could pick one to play you, who would it be? I think I'd go for Count Von Count.

Darr and Darr: Pinky and the Brain

"Darr, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
"I think so, Darr, but what if the chicken won't wear the nylons?"

If Darren hadn't said it recently in one of those throw away remarks that he does that set my brain alight (as it does) I'd never have copped it.

Darren and me:



Pinky and the Brain:



The similarities are extensive. One Darr's the happy go lucky one where as the other is the intense, thinking one. One Darr is the funny one, the other is the funny looking one. One Darr can brighten any room by entering, the other does the same by leaving. Darr's always pondering and Darr is never pondering what Darr's pondering. Well, hardly ever.

If you need any more proof, just look at the ears... At least his are hidden by the hair!



For those of you who aren't familiar, Pinky and the Brain are characters from a 90s TV cartoon called Animaniacs. Both lab mice, Brain plots to take over the world while Pinky aids him in plans that never quite work out. They have a complex relationship that on the surface shouldn't work out and yet does, providing surprise and amusement for all those who come in contact with it. Sound familiar, anyone?

From the Wikipedia entry, more similarities:

Brain's head is large and wide, supposedly housing his abnormally large brain. He appears to be coldly unemotional and speaks in a deadpan manner.

Pinky is more open-minded than the Brain and much more up-beat. He doesn't let troubles ruin his day. He is also more attuned to the world at large, due to a large amount of time watching television or following other popular culture fads; as such, he tends to think in less rigorous patterns than the Brain, and has offered solutions that Brain would have not come up with.

"Darr, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
I think so, Darr, but what if the hippopotamus won't wear the beach thong?

Darren and I struck up an unlikely friendship online just over 18 months ago, and have known each other in "real life" almost as long. (Yes Darr, it does feel like longer!) At the time I had moved to Dublin city centre from London, via a few months in Barretstown so most of the people I had known before London had either moved away or we'd lost touch. I was looking for someone to take over the world with people to become friends with and through a random combination of liking the interaction we had on the forums - he's always been a clever, insightful writer - and Darren and Lottie being open to meeting, that's how it began.

Lukka Bloom's 1990 hit You couldn't have come at a better time is (without the romantic element) strangely an appropriate theme. We just clicked and became great friends, started hanging out and going to events together - so much so for a while I think some people assumed we were a couple. Ha! (As if I'd have him :-P)



Our personal interaction is amusing in many ways. Although both Leos (our birthdays separated by a week (and three years)) and therefore apparently destined to dominate for top lion, our personalities instead serve to complement our often manic natures. In crowds we both revel in the spotlight, one being the personality and the other the inventive one with the roles interchanging often. Our styles of communication may differ but we share the same (often very strange) sense of humour where it often doesn't take that much to set us both off.



We're both adopted (not just as Grannymar's toyboys) and also apparently both shy, awkward kids growing up, despite a shared love of drama, musicals and singing badly.

We're also both, for the most part, well intentioned. In the cartoon, Brain's ambition and drive to "take over the world" is not borne from megalomania, but rather as beneficial to the world. "We're on our way to fame, fortune and a world that's a better place for all." he tells Pinky, and in our version, it's something we're both looking for in our own way. The "fame" however comes from the friends we make, the "fortune" is our contentment with our respective lots (no, not you!) and a better place is bound to have laughter, conversation and a decent pint.

"Darr, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
"I think so, Darr, but I find scratching just makes it worse."

Writing about any friendship is not only difficult but quite insular and prone to excluding those who don't know us. Yet, somehow, strangely it makes sense. Alexia's post yesterday about digital breadcrumbs prompted the question as to whether the way you "judge" people changes the more of their online presence you consume.

I think for Darr and Darr it has added an extra dimension to the interaction - we both read and comment on each other's blogs, we'll point out mistakes or suggestions and generally encourage each other's endeavours. We may not always agree but our debating skills improve as a result. Though we attend many of the same events, I somehow feel it's Darren's skill to capture a movie or music in words, which he does with considerable expertise. Other times he'll discover I've done something or tried something which he'll be equally enthusiastic about.

I try to write this not as a "oh we're best mates and it's great and he's great and I'm great" point, but more so how the things we do make the friendship that bit stronger every time. An important part of the cartoon is this, and it is brought home to me time and time again, in both the gentle manner of the guy and his direct, nonsense-free approach in stark contrast to my all-too-often "well I think it so it must be so" lack of tact:

The show's theme song informs the viewer that "One is a genius, the other's insane", but does not elaborate further. While Brain may seem more intelligent, Pinky's unpredictable and startling insight as a foil to Brain's rather more plodding and stubborn approach suggests that Pinky is, in fact, the real genius rather than Brain.

And in many ways isn't that what every friendship should be? A complex but enjoyable affinity where the actions and reactions both complement and challenge each other while causing laughter and amusement around them, where neither dominates but somehow, you're better together than as just one. There is no competitive comparison to be made between us - we're different, and it's the differences we enjoy. We're both pinky, we're both the brain, both fiercely intelligent and mad as badgers. We're friends, brothers, family. Characters in our own self-drawn reality. We like it here :)

Plus, I'd do almost anything to get the chance to do this in karaoke some evening:



though I quite fancy doing the brainstem bit ;-)

Darr, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"
Whoof, oh, I'd have to say the odds of that are terribly slim Darr.
True.
I mean, really, when have I ever been pondering what you've been pondering?
To my knowledge, never.
Exactly. So, what are the chances that this time, I'm pondering what you're pondering?
Next to nil.
Well, that's exactly what I'm thinking, too.
Therefore, you *are* pondering what I'm pondering.
Poit, I guess I am! Narf!"

Damn you Byrne, I was doing so well without the image of me as a mouse. That'll stick. So I suppose the question must be asked - "Gee Darr, whaddya wanna do tonight then"?

When Jerry met John Lennon

"In 1969, a 14-year-old Beatle fanatic named Jerry Levitan, armed with a reel-to-reel tape deck, snuck into John Lennon's hotel room in Toronto and convinced John to do an interview about peace. 38 years later, Jerry has produced an animated film about it."

I loved it. I love the use of drawing to illustrate the words and the mixture of pen works and digital animation just emphasises how timeless John Lennon's message actually is.

Lovely stuff altogether.

Tommy Tiernan, comedian. Record breaker. Seanchaí?

"His father had long talked of the travelling storytellers. He said they possessed brilliant powers; they brought the long-gone past to life vividly... In his father's view, a tale with the feeling taken out of it had 'no blood and was worth very little.'" Frank Delaney, Ireland

Image from here.

There is a roar of approval when Tommy Tiernan takes to the stage at the Cat Laughs in Kilkenny. The room is packed with ticketholders and comedians who have come to see him in action. Stewart Francis, Andy Parsons and Maeve Higgins have been on before but the reaction from the audience to the man from Navan taking the stage shows how eagerly anticipated he is. It's his second show of the night, with one more to go.



"The Irish" he says, "We don't really know if we're racist, or just having the craic." So begins a routine born of an indepth knowledge of the country and its people. He's done his research, he knows the reaction. Where to place each word and how. We're watching a master at work. Seeing him up close is one of the main reasons I'm volunteering here at all.



Like so many others, I got to know of Tommy through the Late Late Show. I remember vividly that crucifixion sketch and as religious as I was, laughing heartily about it, because at its base was that element of truth that all good comedy is based on. His infectious and quick wit, his "proud to be from N-y-avan" stance and his cheekiness were all things I liked.

For years though that was the only view I had of him. I didn't go to comedy shows so the controversy with uncle Gaybo was all I'd hear about. I saw him once at Vicar Street at a company night out and either I wasn't in the mood or I just didn't get it - he was amusing but not amazingly funny. I thought his crowd interaction ("Did anyone lose a geography teacher?" he asked as one man made his way to the toilets) was spot on, but that was it. That changed though when I moved to London and a(n Irish) flatmate introduced me to Tiernan's first DVD, Live.



The first time I watched the DVD I was transfixed. To say Tiernan was funny is such an understatement. He takes simple stories, every day occurrences and a quintessential Irishness and creates a spellbinding tapestry of words and laughter. His sketch about Irish music in a pub is one of my favourites and I often watch it just to remind myself how storytelling should be done. I love the Declan Moffat marathon sketch as well.



I can almost quote the DVD verbatim ('oranges from London') and have since bought all of his live DVDs, the Jokerman series and have seen him live twice. I take great delight in telling people about his sketches - Irish infestation, African priests, laughing at a funeral, the Cork accent all spring to mind - and would probably be termed an ambassador. Kilkenny though was a pinnacle.



"If there's one thing I'm genuinely racist - KKK racist - about", he booms from the stage, "it's the English accents on car sat navs. Feck you I want to say, I'll turn off wherever I want. I'm not that happy with you knowing where I'm going anyways!"

The audience love it. He's doing what all good storytellers do, evoking images from every day life to make them laugh. Like Delaney's seanchaí in his novel Ireland, Tiernan takes the audience on a familiar, comfortable journey through the words he uses, just looking at things from a different perspective.

"An Irish sat nav though", he says "would be different. You'd have a yearly update and the immortal phrases 'Straight on, you can't miss it' and 'Jaysis I told you that already'. Though really you'd probably just get all the directions in one go at the start".

His show continues through scenes of Irish suicide bombers (a bale of briquettes and a zip firelighter) through a new child in his life all the way to a graphic scene describing why women prefer to be on top during sex (so they can see the curtains that need changing).

His preparation is evident - he knows the material and like all good comedians probably lets it evolve, tweaks it every so often into something new. Even though he knows the story intimately with impeccable timing, he manages to inject something into the performance to make the audience believe it's spontaneous, off the cuff, just for them. In his own words:

“The show is like a conversation. You’d never sit at home and plan what you are going to say to your friend. It’s a bit like that but the audience’s only response is laughter.

“If I have an idea I try it out on stage. Then when you are trying out that idea another one comes to you on stage and you just try and lengthen them so that over the course of a run the show grows and develops and the stuff that develops is very organic.”

At next day's comedy football match, Tiernan shows no signs of running away from whatever controversy he's caused the night before with a remark about Madeline McCann. He tears around the pitch with the rest of his team, never afraid to tackle the ball or a player, and happily poses for photos with the team at the end. He is just one of the lads.



His fitness seems good. He doesn't do drink or drugs any more and in a recent interview, Tommy talks about his physicality on stage: the jumps, leaps and bounds he does:

"I think in Ireland we have a different style that is a more discursive or rambling style. We’re all influenced by different things but I think to get a true, muscular response from the audience, to get them rocking back and forth in their seats, it has to come from somewhere authentic inside you, you can’t fake it.

You should see me afterward, I’m like a deflated balloon afterward, totally punctured, spent, I’m over, I’m yesterday. It’s not premeditated though, it’s instinctive, I’m not being clever."

He's not everyone's cup of tea, as recent remarks about down syndrome come back again as a reason "he's lost it". But his job isn't to be safe, or to be universally liked, it's to make his audience laugh, to entertain them. That takes a lot of work.

Indeed, even before his show when he arrives at the hotel, you can see he needs the time to prepare. I approach him to tell him I'm a fan, that his music sketch continues to inspire my method of storytelling online

"Oh really?" he says, genuinely interested. "How did that happen? What are you doing with it?"

and I have time for the quick photo before the crowds see who I'm talking to and he's forced to retreat from the autograph hunters, the camera holders and other passionate fans. Later though he introduces me to his girlfriend and says thanks for the chat. Obviously, I'm delighted.



Last week Tommy broke a ticket selling record as all 12,000 tickets sold out for his three "Bovinity" Marquee shows in Cork. No other artist, Irish or International, has ever managed to sell out three shows at the Marquee to date, apparently. It's an astounding amount of seats to sell and a testament to both his talent and to the Irish hunger for stories, for something we can pass on, quote to our friends and strangers, to both explain ourselves and get a deeper understanding of who we are.

Following the Wikipedia definition of how seanchaí:

made use of a range of storytelling conventions, styles of speech and gestures that were peculiar to the Irish folk tradition and characterized them as practitioners of their art.

it would be hard pressed not to admit that Tiernan now does the same. With America at his feet (he recently got 10 minutes on Letterman, the same as Bill Cosby the week before) and his shows in Ireland continuing to sell out, Tiernan's is one story that continues to be told.

Tommy's last dates at Vicar Street for Bovinity are July 17 to 20 and he's joining Hector for the Tommy and Hector show at the Carlsberg Comedy Festival on Saturday 26 and Sunday 27 July. Tommy's website is at tommytiernan.com

What do you think? Tommy Tiernan - following the best traditions of seanchaí or just another comedian? Are you a fan?

What sort of Irish pub do you like?

If it's drink you want and plenty of feeding, and you like the bed as well
Grab the wife, throw the kids in the Datsun, make for Inch and the Strand hotel
If talk of turf drives you crazy, and you can't face a bale of hay
Make for Foley's, work the topshelf, talk puck, pints and the GAA

Christy Moore - Casey

Twenty talking about Ron's and jothemama on 49£s talking bar food got me thinking about pubs. Specifically the type of pubs I drink in and what and where I like. Living in Dublin the past 10 years or so I'd imagine I've drank in many of the bars in the city. I'd know a few.



Recently though I've grown bored of pub culture, of drinking and of the discomfort, the noise, the too-many-peopleness, the high prices and bad service in pubs. It's turned me off the whole thing and unless it's been something or someone important I've tended to avoid going in altogether.

I'm no big drinker by any means (two or three Guinness max) but for someone whose friends like to meet in pubs, who revolve social activities around pubs and who fancy a pint with a friend, well, it's not been much fun.


Photo of Mick Doyle's by Meophammon on Flickr

The small village I'm from in Co. Kilkenny has, to my knowledge, 15 pubs for the 1,500 people or so who live there. Some of them, like Mick Doyle's (no relation) above are also grocery stores, off licenses, fishing tackle providers and a place you'd buy a carton of milk when the local Super Valu is shut.


Photo on interior of Mick Doyle's by lhourihan on Flickr

They are more so social centres, hubs of chat, gossip and music for the locals, escapes from the cold and refuges, like Christy Moore's Foleys, for a chat and a catch-up. You'd know a few people there and they'd know (and probably be related to) you.

There are of course differences between pubs - The Globe would be for a younger crowd, with the DJ or a live group in every weekend. The Duiske has an older crowd and is great for a Sunday carvery. Tom O' Shea's is more for the farmers, situated as it is as the last pub before you leave the town. The Cosy would have the more trad singers, the guitar and voice groups in while Frankie Murray's at the bottom of the town seems to open when it feels like and is the epitome of an old man's pub.



The pubs I go to in Dublin are similar. I tend to prefer the IFI for the easy going atmosphere, the Church is a great place to bring the folks, or tourists (and have a great beer garden with barbeque on a sunny day), the Market Bar have free wifi, O'Neills does a great pint of Kilkenny, Doyle's have retro music playing on the weekends, The Bank is convenient for the bus, The Blarney Inn on Nassau Street does a great breakfast, Brogan's on Dame Street are hard to beat for Guinness, The Westbury is always luxurious, Grogan's and Dakota on South William Street are always good and Laura's choice for the recent Tweet Up, the Bull and Castle proved to be great with plenty of room and interesting choices of beers. I'm also really starting to like the Bernard Shaw at Portobello, as studenty as it is.



There's not many I can think of in Temple Bar that I've enjoyed being in, though the Mezz, opposite the IFI has become a visited-more-than-twice pub. Northside other than the Church, I like The Woolshed when, on the rare occasion, it's not too full, I liked the space in the Cobblestone (above) and even Fibber Magees tends to be interesting. The Bar in Cineworld is grand for a quick pint before the film or Toddy's bar beside the Savoy. The Lotts is a place I used to drink and... well, we could be here a while.



Okay, so what makes a good bar? I mean, if I had the space, the money, the resource and the capacity to build one, what would it be like? The Carlsberg one from the ad (was that 4 Dame Lane?) was grand, but could it be improved on?

Layout:

• It would have a layout similar to the IFI, possibly in a restored building like the Church. Somewhere open, interesting and memorable. I like the thought of different bars on different floors, and different types of music for people.

Décor:

• A mixture of stools at the bar and then comfortable chairs with low tables. Fully wheelchair friendly and accessible, you could get around and sit down without having to sit on some stranger's lap (unless you wanted to...) I'd probably always have an exhibition of something arty on the walls.

Staff:

• Senior waiting/serving staff would be Irish or at least have excellent English. This is borne of my own bad experiences with staff struggling to understand what I'd term simple requests. My own spoken style is clear and distinct - I'd expect theirs to be the same.
  
  I would though have staff who spoke different languages, including Irish, to make sure everyone could be understood.
  
  
• Important too would be to hire locals. People who knew the area (and could give directions/recommendations when asked), who'd recognise your face if you were a regular and who would generally make you feel welcome.
  
  
• Waiting staff would remember your table, remember your order, keep an eye on when you (and the rest of your group) arrived, sat down, had your meals and finished and wouldn't have to be asked more than once for something. They'd always bring a jug of water and glasses and never forget the bottle opener or the knives and forks.
  
  
• Bouncers, finally, would be there to help people in as well as deter the trouble makers. At closing time there'd be none of this "get out, get out, havyisnohomestogoto" but allow people to finish their conversations and drinks. They'd always have a local taxi number.

Food and drink:

• This is always a tough one, though I think I'd at least have scones and a selection of sandwiches for the tea drinkers. Definitely both crisps (not just Pringles) and peanuts, a great coffee machine and barista and a wide selection of beers and wines.
  
  Meals I'd probably do in the evenings between 5 and 8 or at the weekends all day only. Weekend carveries with a great chef and cook and then a reasonable selection of bar snacks, platters and so on. There'd be none of this "oh we're not serving tonight, it's the Tuesday after a Friday night hour long episode of Corrie" crap. There'd always be something.
  
  
• Don't/can't drink? No problem! All the water comes with complimentary dash of lime/blackcurrant, designated drivers get free soft drinks all night and if you ask for a tap water you don't get looked at like you've just offered to give someone leprosy.
  
  
• The Guinness would be top notch. Always.

Music:

• Important to me would be to try help foster Irish musical talent - the people who love to get up there and sing their own tunes. Open mic nights would be a must.
  
  Otherwise it would be musically niche (as in not just chart stuff all the time), or at least be suited specifically to the customers. Saturday afternoon might be Spanish guitar playing, Thursday night a singer songwriter, Friday a bit of ceol and a sing-along, Sunday a selection of 70s and 80s hits and at Christmas I'd allow charity carol singers in for an hour or three.
  
  After hours there'd be a good band or dj and enough space to have a comfortable dance. There'd be no seats on the other side to have to navigate through dancers with pints in hands. No way.
  
  The music would never be too loud, and there'd be a place to escape to where it wouldn't bother you.

Functions:

• I'd be picky. None of your 21st, stag parties or hen nights for me. I'd invite the table quizzes, the launches, the tweet-ups, the movie clubs and generally the people who aren't going to drink themselves stupid and wreck the place.

Facilities:

• What's there for you? Well, the wifi would be fast and free and the tables suited for laptops. Maybe a specific area. Equally for the matches there'd be a comfortable area for that, away from those who didn't want to get involved.
  
  There'd be chess boards definitely, the daily newspapers and probably a take one, leave one bookshelf. I'd have a box of pens kept behind the bar. There'd be two ATM machines and for the smokers there'd be heaters outside.

Toilets:

• The toilets would be clean. I can't quote better than Twenty in his description of Ron's:

  "... cubicles which are fully enclosed as Ron appreciates his customers, if they want to move their bowels, don’t want to have to worry about being overheard or people looking at their underpants as they wait patiently by their ankles during business time."

  There'd always be plenty of toilet roll, soap and handwash, though there wouldn't be staff handing you towels. I'd have the Dyson hand driers in though.

What do you reckon? Would you join me there for a pint? I mean it's all very well saying "ah sure good company and conversation is all you need", because we often settle for that, but where do you like and where would you like to drink?

How to embed YouTube videos on your blogspot blog

Dedicated to Andrew because he asked so nicely!

1. Sign into your blogspot account as per usual and choose to create a new post.



2. Depending on where you choose to place your video in the post, either write your text before putting the video in or wait until after.



3. In a new tab/window, go to YouTube.com and decide what video you'd like to select.

I chose Rick O' Shea's interview with Mundy at OXEGEN yesterday, not least because I needed at least one OXEGEN post it's funny to see Rick taking photos on his N95 in it...



4. To the right side of the video you'll see the EMBED code.



Just left-click on the code to highlight it all and right-click and choose to copy it to your clipboard (or CTRL-A, CTRL-C and CTRL-V or whatever you find best) :)


6. Return to your blog post screen and switch to the Edit Html view.



7. Paste in your YouTube embed code - it will look something like:
And that's where your YouTube video will appear in your post. You can write as much text as you like before and after it, or indeed just paste it in and publish, it's up to you.

There are probably easier ways of doing it, but that's what I find works for me :) And if it doesn't work the first time, just try again!

Nothing left but to enjoy the video and comments from the people you share it with.



Does that help?

The Next US President Could Be From Ireland

If I had a vote, I'd be voting Krishna De for the next US President.



How about you?

The first time

I've woken up.

The room is dark, the pale light through the net curtains an indication of the early hour. I know I'm still tired but I know I won't go back to sleep. I'm nervous. This is it.

I choose my clothes for the day carefully. I don't want to appear too formal but not too scruffy either. I've brought enough clothes with me from Dublin to dress a hurling team. Sorting quietly through the bags so as not to wake Aoife asleep on the bed, I finally settle on black, one of those colours that always suited me.

I look at myself in the mirror. Actually I look at the photos around the mirror and how I've changed over the years. There's me at 3, at my communion, at school, on holidays, in church. All stages in my life I've got fond memories of.

Aoife rises and stands at my side, radiant despite just being up and dressed in one of my old school t-shirts. She's done this before, taken this journey, followed the process. She understands. She suggests a warm shower, not because I smell bad but because it will relax me and I need to relax. I'm nervous. This is it.

I groom as I've never groomed before despite having showered and shaved the night before. I study myself in the mirror. What does my appearance say about me? Who does it convey? Am I well represented by the effort I've put in. I note the lines, the scars, the creases in my face. I know I've been aged by illness, by stress, by life. Do I look strange? Bad? What shows?

My parents are up. The kettle is boiling as my dad calls up the stairs saying there's tae ready. I'm too nervous to eat, even to speak much. My mother is fussing with something. Aoife makes herself useful helping, pouring, slicing, collecting. Somehow it's all going on around me while I'm locked in thoughts of the past and the future. It's nearly time to go.

My mother comes over. A small woman, unsteady on her feet through a variety of health problems, I feel she still towers above me, all 5 ft 2 of her. She takes my hand and puts a small crucifix in it. "We've got you that" she says, "It will bring you luck." She grabs my neck to kiss my cheek. She knows my silence betrays the deeper emotion. I'm trying hard not to cry.

Dad gives me a hug. This simple country man from the wilds of south Kilkenny, a normally quiet, simple soul devoted to my mother and to making life as good as he can for his family clasps me close and says in a firm voice "When you were young we knew there was something about you. As you've grown I've seen it more. Blood isn't everything but you get your heart from her. And that's a mighty thing to have."

I catch Aoife's stare at me. She knows how close to cracking I must be. She's the first girl I've ever opened up to. The first girl I've loved. She claps her hand and says "Right so, we'll go." and soon we're in the small Opel Corsa ready to set off for Kilkenny.

I have to meet Elaine at 9. Elaine who I've only ever met twice before but today is as important as Aoife is. We've left in plenty of time but I'm still hoping dad will drive quicker. My mother makes conversation with Aoife while I once again rehearse the lines in my head.

I know what I want to say. I've practised it a million times. I've been rehearsing since I was 17, alone in my room, angry and frustrated after a row with my parents and realising "Hang on Darragh, you do know they're people too, right? And you know as tired as you may be with them that maybe you're not how they thought you'd be either?" That day changed my life.

We pull to the side of the road. The car has broken down. I kid you not. Of all the things to happen. I was going to be late for Elaine and of course I didn't have her mobile number. I laugh, simply because there's not much else I can do. I hope Elaine will wait. I've been waiting. Waiting a long time.

I was in the seminary when I first wrote to Waterford. It was a time of decision for me, a time of moving on, of me at 20 getting my life sorted. It was four years later before I received a call, just as I was boarding a flight from the offices of Quinn, Murphy and O' Brien. "Erm I'm going to Manchester" I said, "I've got a job there for a few weeks. I'll ring you when I'm back". I'd asked my mother to find out what it could be about but she only ever got an answering machine. I hadn't a clue why a solicitor's office would be ringing me. Who else could it be?

When I got back I called. "Ah Darragh" the friendly voice said "It's about your letter to Waterford. We were moving office and we found it behind a filing cabinet where it must have fell. Are you still interested in talking to us?" "Sorry, what letter?" "Oh, it's one dated October 1999". It's now August 2003.

I met Elaine at the Rivercourt in Kilkenny. It was a beautiful day, one in which the view of the castle was postcard perfect. We talked. Was I sure I wanted to know? Yes, I said. I'd thought about it. Had I talked to my parents? Yes, they've been supportive from the start. Are you angry? Angry? No. I don't think I have any negative emotions attached. I think I've dealt with that already. I know what I want to say, and that's simply...

The car starts. I breathe a huge sigh of relief as we trundle along windy roads to Kilkenny. "Ah probably just a dirty spark plug" says my dad as if looks at me in the rear view mirror. I smile, trying not to add to the stress. The closer we get the tenser I can see my parents becoming. It's a big day for them. They're nervous too.

It's five past nine when we pull into the car park. No Elaine. Uh oh I think, has she left? It's a Saturday, she's not supposed to be working. It's just before Christmas and she has small children and shopping to do. Maybe she's sick, maybe she won't do it, maybe she's - Aoife tells me to shut it, to relax. Maybe she's just late. And she is.

Her car pulls into the car park and she gets out and gives me a big hug. She has a brief chat with my parents, reassuring them, saying she'd be in touch and then with me in the passenger seat, Aoife in the back, we're off.

The questions start. What do you expect, Darragh? What are your thoughts? What do you hope will happen? All questions I've been thinking about, none I have answers to. So she tries simpler ones. Tell me about growing up. Tell me about your family. Tell me about finding out. Aoife rolls her eyes in the back, giggling as she knows the one thing I'll never be short of words about is myself.

It's destination Tullamore I'm told. That's where the meeting is. As we pull into the drive of the Tullamore Court hotel I can see it's a complete glass facade. I can see almost everyone in the lobby. People in business suits, in casual wear, tweed, plaid and wax jackets aplenty. I glance at my clothes. Would I fit in? Would I look alright? Do I look too conspicuous? Would I be mistaken for a waiter? Or a priest?

Elaine had stepped outside to make a call. I can't get through she says, I'll go in and see. She leaves Aoife and me in the car, but nosiness gets the best of us and we get out. Aoife grabs my hand and watches me scan the people inside. Is it her? Is it her? Who is Elaine talking to now? Is that her? I'm nervous. This is it.

Elaine comes out. "She's not there" she says. "Go in and have a cuppa while I find out where she is". I'll always remember how much my hand shook as I tried to lift a spoon of sugar to my cup. I was in a heap. Ah, sweet caffeine, how you'll help soothe the nerves.

Elaine returns. "She's not coming here. She couldn't get a lift. She's at home in Kinnity. It's a good 40 miles away".

I laugh out loud. I can't help it. It's been such a build up of letters, phone calls, meetings and then this morning. The crucifix I'm clutching is branding my palm. "It's out of my jurisdiction, Darragh, so I can't drive you... officially. I'm not covered. However if you want to go, we will..." There's no question at this stage. I almost sprint to the car.

Closer to Kinnitty, Elaine senses I've passed nervousness and am now out the other side. Terry Pratchett describes something similar in his Discworld books - being "knurd" - so sober you need a drink to make you normal. I feel exactly like that. I could do with a pint.

Kinnitty at 1 pm is almost a ghost town. Situated on crossroads in deep Offaly, I spot the obligatory small town standards of post office, church, shop, garda station and pub. And that seems to be it. Aoife gets out of the car. "Good luck" she says, "you'll be grand. It'll all be fine". I'm so nervous now I almost don't believe her. I don't know what to believe any more. I'm just waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

We drive up a narrow winding mountain road. Elaine's questions have dried up, limited now to seeing if I'm okay. We pass tiny cottages, farmers yards, laneways left and right. Ah, so this is where she's from. My mind is screaming "What have you got yourself into this time?"

"We should have been there now" she says, "I'm going to call her". She dials on speakerphone. I want to get out of the car but too late "Hello, hello" the voice comes, in a deep counthry accent strangely suited to the surroundings. Ah, so that's what she sounds like.

"Hello Mary Ann, it's Elaine again." "Oh hello Elaine. Where are you?" "Well we're on the road, we've just passed a big lumber yard on the left..."

"Oh you've gone the wrong way! You'd now have to turn yourself around and come back the road. Take a left at a big blue barn, continue up over a bridge and I'm just at a graveyard." I'm bemused to say the least. I had no expectations but wasn't expecting that.

We turn the car and hurtle along, sharing a laugh at all that had happened. She rings again. We describe where we are now. "Oh you were right the first time. Turn around and come back".

Ah now, c'mon. Seriously? I begin checking the car for hidden cameras, convinced this is a sequel to The Truman Show, awaiting Mike Murphy to appear telling me he's from RTÉ. I pinch myself to make sure I'm awake. Nothing would have surprised me.

We drive on and I'm lost in thoughts again when suddenly Elaine pulls over. What's up now? I think. She gets out of the car.

The back door opens.

It closes.

Suddenly sitting in the back seat is my mother. My biological mother. And this is how we've met for the 'first' time.

"Hello", I say

"Hello", she says.

She smiles at me. My mother smiles at me.

Take a tour of Dublin or Kilkenny and help Barretstown

This is one of my favourite letters ever:



It came from Christopher, a Barretstown camper who wrote to say:

"Hi all, my name is Christopher. I was in Barretstown a couple of times. I had a great time. No nurses - No doctors chasing me. Not to do this or that. Just fun, fun, fun, The place is abolutely brilliant.

Just to let you know I had a kidney transplant a year ago and I'm doing well. As a special THANK YOU I would like to donate the money I have saved to help other kids the way you helped me.

A grateful camper,
Christopher"

There are many, many other letters like that coming from grateful children and parents whose lives have been touched by Barretstown. Now you can help out and have a bit of fun.



Ever wanted to take a bus tour around Dublin or Kilkenny?

This Thursday 10 July you can play tourist and see all the city sights in comfort, knowing that your ticket money goes to helping bring kids with serious illness to Barretstown.

CitySightSeeing Tours are kindly donating all ticket money for the Dublin and Kilkenny City tours for that day to Barretstown.

Tickets are valid for 24 hours and you can hop on and off as often as you like. Each bus has a mix of audio or live commentary from local guides. There's also a kid's commentary which is both educational and fun!

Remember the date is July 10th. All proceeds from that day's City Sight Seeing Tours in our capital city Dublin and Kilkenny, Ireland's medieval capital, will go to help bring more kids with serious illness to Barretstown.

I know some children who'd be very happy for the donation you can give :)



Check out how you can help Barretstown with your time or money. :) Please also tell your family, friends or random tourists on the street about this - every little helps.

Maybe I'll see you on the bus ;-)

Getting to know me...

Blame Rick ;-)

Remembering the 1990s...

Got a "You know you grew up in the 90s.." by email and it's almost too good not to post. ( Sorry Alexia ;-) ) There's 50 of them in the original document, so I've tried to keep this slightly briefer.

It made me think a lot about growing up (nothing to do with turning 30 in August, honest) so I've added a few of my own to the list. What can you add?

The email seems to be written by a guy for guys, but I've tried to even things out a bit. Just a bit, mind.

- You know you grew up in the 90s when... -

You remember exactly where you where, who you were with and what you were wearing for THAT penalty. You even remember George Hamilton's commentary, ‘A nation holds its breath…’ You possibly have a son named after Kevin Sheedy.



(25 June 1990, I was at home, in soccer t-shirt from Dunnes probably. Sun was shining. Amazing day.)

You liked Oasis or Blur. But not both, because that ‘wasn’t allowed’. Tipping your two heels confirmed it was not allowed.



(I liked both. Country House and Cigarettes and Alcohol were both anthems)

You had a Megadrive or SNES. But not both, because that ‘wasn’t allowed’ either.



(I had neither. We had a Sega Master System)

You’ve only just turned thirty yet your doctor tells you that you have the wrists of a severely arthritic eighty year old thanks to days spent in the arcade on Street Fighter.



(Had it on the Amstrad. Almost broke me joystick between that and Yie Ar Kung Fu)

You had a crush on the youngest girl in Hanson…



(Giggidy)

‘Talk to the hand coz the face ain’t listenin’ was an acceptable response to any question. As was ‘it’s a free country’. Finish off with ‘Word to your mother’.



You have the complete series of Father Ted…



(and can quote most of it...)

You had ‘The Rachel’ hairstyle if you were female, or one of many ‘Beckhams’ if you were male.



You can quote Pulp Fiction start to finish, you know who Keyser Söze is, and secretly Toy Story made it into your Top 5 films of all time.



You started to watch Tennis. Can’t say I recall why…



Talk shows controlled TV. Ricki Lake, Sally Jessie, Geraldo, Oprah and of course…



You could wear your clothes back to front if you wished and it was ‘cool’ thanks to Kris Kross. ‘Daddy Mac’ll make ya Jump, Jump…’



You owned (or still own) any of the following: A carpet jacket, X-works jeans, eclipse jeans and/or a bubble jacket. For the female, you wore leggings/cycling shorts with long t-shirts and most likely had a pen pal.



You owned a pair of Air-Max and/or Puma discs. You'd bugged your parents for a pair but weren't allowed them in school.



20p got you far in the shop. 10p for a Mr. Frosty cool-pop (a Snow-time optional), a 5p packet of A-team crisps, two fruit salads, two apple jacks and a Postman Pat.



(Special nod to Wham bars, 5p Woppa bars, Meanies, lemon Roy of the Rovers, Banshee Bones, Hot Lips, real Monster Munch and Mr Freezes)

Your breath smelled of Frosties.


Bryan Adams was number one for about four years. Wet Wet Wet another three. At least.


(The Bryan Adams song reminds me of picking strawberries up the hill. £1 a bucket.)

Helen Daniels was alive and well in Neighbours. As was Percy Sugden in Coronation Street.



Saturday evening TV was worth watching: Catchphrase, Gladiators, Baywatch, Generation Game, You Bet, Big Break, Noels House Party and then Casualty. And shame on you, the answer's ‘holding down a job’.



You remember Sports Saturday on RTE, and now you’re humming the tune of ‘The Final Countdown’.



Pippa was blonde, Michael was alive and Sally was 8 in Home and Away



Your attic has a stash of old Shoot & Match Magazines. Or Smash Hits if you were that way inclined.



Sharkie & George were the crimebusters of the sea.



You still think of Ant & Dec as PJ & Duncan.



You know the dance moves to Whigfield's Saturday Night and the Macarena. You firmly believe Scatman John did a lot for the music industry.



Chris Evans was ‘a madser’.



Your first mobile phone required you to carry around a backpack and your number is still 088…



(check out Eugene's amazing mobile collection)

You got your first DVD player.



Beverly Hills 90210 was reality TV. You watched California Dreaming, Pugwall & you know the theme tune to ‘Saved by the Bell’. You’re singing it now.



You know what ALF stands for. And you’ve just realised how scarily he looks like that old guy who hosts the Rugby on RTE. Not George Hook, the other one.



If you’re a bloke, you secretly liked Take That. If you’re a girl, you loved them. Either way, you cried when they broke up in February 1996.



(Most certainly did not! Back for Good is their only good song. Oh and Never Forget. Oh, and ...)

If you preferred East 17 you were ‘a knacker’.



Among the big bereavements in your life were Kurt Cobain, Biggie and Tupac



Mr. Motivator helped your mother lose five pounds.



Mr. Kipling helped her find it again.



You remember when Victoria Beckham was just the skinny Spice Girl who never sings.



Ireland won the Eurovision every year because Eastern Europe was collectively known as Russia. It was pimps.



and this made you proud to be Irish and to give it a go:



You got up really early to cheer on Michelle Smith in Atlanta.



And you are of the opinion she couldn’t have been lying, because swearing on a loved one's life without crossing any part of your body was a guarantee you were telling the truth.

Other things:

• You camped out your back garden during the summer and had water fights because water was free. Rubbish could be burned out the back.
  
• Owning a CD player classed you as ‘Posh’
  
• Now Albums came out on tapes once or maybe twice a year.

Rather embarrassingly now, most of the black people I knew were the following people:















Sunday mornings was Ian Dempsey, Dave Fanning and Simon Young with Peter Collins on the Beat Box, then Little House on the Prairie and a bit of this



Gosh there's so much else. Diana and Mother Teresa dying in 1997; Brush Shiels and Brendan O' Carroll on every second Late Late Show; Erika Eleniak; Zig and Zag Christmas specials with Ian and then Ray D'arcy; The X Files; American Gothic; Saturday Nights were Star Trek The Next Generation; Gerry Ryan did that awful TV show (left, left, left, fire, fire, fire) and so on.

My favourite though from the whole list:

You had to walk around and find your friends by yourself. You couldn’t just text or ring them.

What do you remember? It wasn't THAT long ago!

Help Simon save the lives of 5,500 children today

"5,500 children die from dehydration in Africa every day. That is a scandal. A scandal and an absolute tragedy."


Images from Le Craic

Simon Berry is visibly disturbed by this fact. His distaste at the thought is evident, and he's almost emotional. “One in 5 children under 5 die every day. African teenagers are dying of crime, AIDS and worse but these children are have such potential. They are the future. How could I not do something?"



Simon is at 2gether08 in London to look for help. He has been working on raising awareness of this fact for twenty years, but 2008 has been one where action is being taken.



His Facebook group “Let's talk to Coca Cola about saving the World's children” has over 2,900 members and is growing by almost 50 people a day. Since its creation Simon has raised awareness in Ireland and the UK (I found out about it through AJ over on Le Craic) and has met Salvatore Gabola, the Global Director of Stakeholder Relations for Coca-Cola, in Brussels to talk about his idea.



"Although Africa is a huge continent", says Simon, "because of the power of Coca-Cola's distribution network, almost everywhere you go you can almost be guaranteed to find a bottle of Coke for sale. What we're trying to achieve is using Coca-Cola's massive distribution system to deliver rehydration salts to remote places where children need them".

"This is in no way anti Coca-Cola. All I'm trying to do is ask them to help, but without the major complications that can come with campaigns like this. They have a lot of innovation in many areas and I'm hoping to capitalise on that and have people get out of the “corporate box” and into a place where dialogue can happen".



Simon's involvement dates back twenty years, when he worked in a very remote part of North East Zambia, but back then "there was no internet, no traction, no visibility" - he was only one person and there was a fear of a “who does he think he is then” reaction. He used Facebook mainly for keeping in touch with his grown up children.

It was when Gordon Brown set up the "business call for action" conference gathering together the CEOs of Multinationals with the aim to discussing the eradication of poverty in Africa that he decided to use the internet to help in raising awareness.

"I blogged about it but got little reaction. It seemed it was only me talking about this, that people didn't seem to know. But then I was driving home one evening and in a wonderful moment of synchronicity heard Annie Lennox on Desert Island Discs. She was speaking of the same crisis. I stopped the car immediately and rang my wife Jane. “Did you hear that?” “Yes, it was amazing” she said."

"We can distribute Coca Cola all around the World but we can't seem to get medication to save a child from something as simple as diarrhoea and I think that that is wrong. You know, you have a choice you either get involved with an issue or you walk away from it. I think it's a human rights issue and I feel very passionately about human rights." (Annie Lennox)

Simon set up a group on Facebook on May 18, 2008 and invited his friends to join, asking them to invite their friends and sent them status updates. "It grew from there" he says. Indeed, the membership grew from zero to 2,115 in 26 days.

On iPM, a BBC radio 4 programme where listeners formulate the programme, they got Eve Graham from The New Seekers, singers of possibly the best known Coke jingle to sing new lyrics. (Hear that here.) It has resulted in a telephone conference in early June and a subsequent invitation by train to Brussels to meet “the right person in Coca-Cola to help with this. They are very enthusiastic, very eager, but it has to be sold to the company on many levels."

Coincidentally Coca-Cola had been looking into doing this, and have started a research project in Tanzania. Simon is in contact with him and will be telling his story over on his blog.

Facebook has been for Simon a blessing. "I started this project 7,350 days ago and hadn't achieved much. Since I started the Facebook group there are over 2,800 people behind the campaign, I've spoken and met with Coca-Cola and we have a real opportunity to do something about this. The next big challenge is to get an international NGO involved and then some local agencies, to really start making that difference."

So how can people help?



"Go to Facebook and join the Coca-Cola group. Invite all your friends to join. This isn't about spamming or bothering people - it's only because of all the people who have become involved so far that this has been a success. You can help make a difference.

If bloggers could share the information; if, like AJ people could design graphics or banners; if people could offer the campaign help or advice in communications, in marketing or technology; if anyone has any contacts or idea that they think could contribute to helping make this idea a reality, it would be great if you could get involved.

5,500 children die every day in Africa before the age of 5. This initiative could save thousands and thousands of children's lives through collaboration between the private and NGO sector. And now we are talking."



I'm joining AJ at Le Craic, the Galway Greens and Caricatures Ireland in the bloggers (that I know of) who are raising awareness for this. I hope you'll help share the story as well.

• Simon's blog is here
• The Facebook group is here

Dublin 26-06-08 is now online

You can find out more on www.4daymovie.com. I'll be continuing to update the blog here.



I'm very proud to have been involved with this project (as I may have said once or thrice before) and am glad to see it presented online for you to enjoy.

It would be very cool to know what you think of it. Please feel free to leave a comment below or over here.

Focus Ireland comedy night on Wednesday July 9

Damian Clark, Keith Farnan, Kevin Gildea and Jarlath Regan guarantee a fantastic night of stand-up comedy with all proceeds in aid of Focus Ireland.

- Jarlath Regan (Nobody Knows... TV3)
- Damian Clark (I Dare Ya, RTE 2)
- Kevin Gildea (you'll know him when you see him)
- Keith Farnan (the funniest thing from Cork since Radio Jay)

• Ticket Price: €20.00 and are available from events@focusireland.ie
• Venue: The Laughter Lounge, 8 Eden Quay, O' Connell Bridge, Dublin 1.
• Time: Doors open at 7.00pm, show starts at 8pm.

Gisela, one of my lovely fellow volunteers at the DWF is part of the GAFF (Go And Fund Focus) committee for Focus Ireland. The committee is made up of young professionals who volunteer their time and as a committee organise a number of events for Focus throughout the year. You can find out more here and see the event poster here.

4DayMovie: Birth to Earth by Daniel O' Hara

One of the most thought provoking pieces of the 4DayMovie project was Daniel O' Hara's contribution.



Daniel's ideas was to acknowledge those for whom the date 26/6/08 as most significant - those born and those who died on that day.

He's also just launched the brand new Dough Productions website where you can watch one of my favourite Irish short films ever - Yu Ming is Ainm Dom.

Keep an eye on the 4DayMovie blog for announcements and more :)

Meet Adam Bender

I'd like to meet this kid and say well done. His story has inspired me.


Image by M. Spencer Green/AP, from here.

Adam Bender, 8, plays catcher, one of the toughest positions on the field with only one leg. Because of cancer, he had his left leg amputated when he was one. Adam doesn’t use a prosthesis, and only uses crutches when he reaches base for the Astros.

Michelle Bender, Adam's mom, told the Lexington Herald-Leader she appreciated the effect her son has on people young and old.

“Adam has helped other kids see that a person with a disability can be fun to hang out with, and play with, and they can still be a part of a community or part of a team. It's developed the kids' compassion.

“And if he can inspire even one family to allow their kid to try something they normally might not try, that's great.”

• Hi quality video here.
• News story from Kentucky.com here.

Having worked in Barretstown, I know the courage of children who have suffered from cancer and other blood related illnesses is exhilirating, inspiring and amazing. You can help just by clicking here.

Thanks Niamh for the nod :)

(net)Working hard at 2gether08

Honestly, I am. It's all about the charity you know.







It's a hard life, all this volunteering. Like, seriously



Millie Robson, a specialist photographer for pole dancers, performance artists and portraits, nude and non nude acted in Web 2.0, the musical yesterday. The bottom picture are my friends from UnLtdWorld.com :)

Full report to come tomorrow and over the next few days. It was great.

Get over to Movies.ie NOW!!

Don't even read this.

Just go. Now!!

What are you waiting for?

At 2gether08 in London this week

I'm volunteering at, blogging for and participating in the 2gether08 conference this week.

Check out the 2gether08 website where the conference - which is meeting of social entrepreneurs, journalists and other media related minds - is being streamed live.

4daymovie - the films are going online

Chancer readers may have seen this already but some of the films that are part of the Dublin08 movie are now going online.

This is David Chandler's Shamrockfield:




There'll be an announcement this week about the launch of the film. Keep an eye on the blog. The team are working hard!