“I’LL be making no New Year’s Resolutions this year!
I’m determined that, as the coming year of 2024 moves along, I won’t be throwing backward glances at weighing scales, diet sheets, or life skills manuals.
It’s not that I’m against people making firm commitments in the dawning days of a New Year, but for me personally, I’m simply not good at abiding by the norms of society.
Do you know the way news gets spread in this country - well, a fella told me that he heard from so and so - ‘duirt bean liom go nduirt bean lei’ -the gaelic grapevine?
Well, through that ancient form of’ social media’, it came to my ears a while back that someone, somewhere had referred to me as a bit of an eccentric.
The person so describing me meant it in a less than complimentary manner, whereas when I heard it I was thrilled!
Too many people live lives less than ordinary, afraid to express an opinion in case they’d ruffle feathers or upset some cosy arrangement or deal. The one thing I learned a long, long time ago is never, ever be afraid to express one’s views on any given subject.
I’ve often found myself in a minority of one on a debate on some question or other. Does that bother me or bring an onset of early insomnia? Not in the slightest!
Speak your mind and say out what you believe in, that’s my philosophy. Sure, it’s easier to keep the head down, go with the flow and follow the crowd.
Maybe there’s an ancient streak of independence in Bartlemy people dating back to pre-Christian times. Perhaps that’s why 190 years ago, local, unarmed people under the leadership of a widow took a stand here against oppression and injustice. That’s a proud tradition and heritage to have grown up with.
Yes, I’m a free thinker, and free and aisy when it come to saying what I feel and what I think is right. I never cease to thank God above and the ancestors gone before me for that streak of what I call ‘democratic stubbornness’. For that anxiety that hails freedom of expression, I can thank my local National School, St. Colman’s College in Fermoy, and Macra na Feirme.
My memories of what used be called ‘primary school’ are vague enough. Things like the old open fire, no running water and the ‘facility’ out in the backyard - it was never called a toilet in my time - are still in my mind’s eye. Master Donal Lehane made us talk up and sing out - two great lessons for four and five year olds.
I was one of a class of around 120 that started in St Colman’s in September of 1969. That was a huge intake and we were divided into 1A, 1B, 1C and 1D. During the next five years, I bounced up and down between the B and C class.
Colman’s was a Boarding School then and it was a great eye-opener to meet lads of my own age from far-flung places like, Newmarket, Banteer, Kilbrin, Macroom, and Coachford.
I did six subjects for the Leaving Cert in 1974 and my unique Academic Record of No Grade (less than 12%) in Pass Maths and A in Honours Irish still stand proudly in my Alma Mater by the Blackwater.
A few years back, an attempt was made to have a full reunion of that class of 1969-74, but Covid put the kibosh on that plan. We had a few mini-reunions alright. In March of this year, God willing, we hope to finally have that reunion.
We were all aged 12 to 14 half a century ago when we entered the ‘New Building’ in St Colman’s College. Now we are all pensioners.
In Macra na Feirme, I loved public speaking and debating. One had to think on your feet. In debating, you might have to oppose a Motion that you firmly believed in, but that’s where listening to both sides of an argument came in. ‘Twas no good saying ‘That’s rubbish’ or ‘That’s stupid’ - that’s insulting, not debating.
During this blessed year of 2023, I also reached that significant milestone in age of six decades and half a dozen years. That surely was one of my highlights in the year just gone -getting the Old Age Pension, a ‘road-mark’ I am very proud to have achieved!
I can remember when I was very young, to see what I thought were really, very old people going up to the Post Office of a Friday to collect their few bob. That was in the mid 1960s of course and many of those self same pensioners were born in the 1880s. Imagine, their parents were born in Ireland in famine times.
Lads, the weekly pension takes a bit of getting used to!
Since I started farming here at home in the autumn of 1974, I’ve always had to cut the cloth to suit the purse. If the weather was good and the price of milk was good, one could buy bits and pieces. If prices and the rain fell, you’d simply have to do without.
The pension has changed all that and given a bit of freedom I never had before.
Around Christmas each year, I get a present of a Desk Diary for the following year. As far back as I can recall, the minute I got it I’d mark in special birthday dates in the coming 12 months. Then I’d leaf through until I came to September and proudly mark the first and third Sundays of September as the All Ireland Hurling and Football Sundays - some things never changed or so I thought.
Now, things are as tri na cheile as the weather - finals in July? Leave me alone.
For more than 125 years, the GAA built and built up those September Sundays as Ireland’s greatest sporting dates. Then, in a flash, all’s changed, utterly changed, and all that vast repertoire of wonderful native Irishness is thrown away, so sad.
This coming year will see the GAA mark it’s 140th anniversary - to be honest, I’m not so sure we have much to sing and dance about with the way things are going.
One of my regrets at the end of 2023 is a battle I fought and lost. During Covid, there were restrictions on every facet of Irish life and sport was badly affected. To help stop the spread of the pandemic, cash was not taken at turnstiles and online ticket sales were introduced as a safety measure. No-one disagreed with that decision.
Now we are in a post-Covid world and what does the GAA do? They have banned all followers from games who do not have the ability and technical know-how to purchase tickets online. Is cash now illegal in Ireland? No, of course not, but the GAA acts as if it was.
Time and time again, I raised the issue in Cork - all we wanted was one ‘gate’ at every match where cash would be accepted. The answer was a resounding ‘No’, accompanying a condescending attitude that despises who chose to use cash. I tried hard, but to no avail.
Now, don’t fear that I am preparing to enter this New Year in a very downbeat or depressed temperament. No, nothing could be further from the truth. In actual fact, I am always optimistic, and not just hoping for the best but working as hard as I can to make what seem like ‘impossible dreams’ come true.
The number of people I meet nearly every day who strive in their own little ways to help others is amazing. These silent and seemingly invisible people are the glue that binds our society together and makes live worth living in so many different ways.
For myself, I am optimistic - one has to be - and I hope to always follow the advice sung out so often by the late, great Joe Dolan and try and keep doing things in my own peculiar way.
Farewell, 2023, and may 2024 bring us peace all over the world. That would be the greatest gift anyone of us could wish for.
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