I turned thirty six the other day – thirty feicin six! That, for the mathematically challenged, is two times eighteen. Now, a human comes of age at the age of eighteen – one reaches adulthood. So after that milestone has passed, what is the next big one?
Well, I am putting it out there today that the next important year is thirty six. The big 36. Not your 21st, not your 30th, not when you hit the fabulous forties but innocuous, oft overlooked thirty six.
I am coming to the conclusion that the manager of the Irish football team is living life like an alcoholic – an alcoholic living in denial.
Before I talk about Trapattoni, I need to explain a little about the mindset of people with drinking problems. When I first came up with the notion of getting and staying sober for good, I did a lot of research on the subject. The most important points which seemed to be repeated over and over no matter where I looked were these
Living in tropical paradise as I do at the moment reminds me of when I spent 6 months living in Greece almost ten years ago. I got a job working as a barman in an Irish cocktail bar on a beautiful Island called Kefalonia.
The sky was blue every day, new women were flown in every week and the drinks flowed like no tomorrow. Life was good.
I whizzed around on my moped and loved life in the little town where I lived.
It was here where I discovered what my life could be like one day if I followed one of the dreams I had of being a heavy drinking artist and womanising raconteur..
Yesterday I went scuba diving in the Caribbean. There was talk of whale sharks, schools of Dolphins, all kinds of manta rays and turtles and tropical beauty. We were going to the North side of the Island of Utila which is one of the best spots in the world for the ould diving.
The sun was up early. The sea was calm. The breakfast of omelette and freshly baked bread was eaten at 6am in the local café, washed down with a nice creamy coffee. Cinnamon buns just out of the oven were bought and put in the pack to give nutrition in between dives.
Pat Gilroy stepped down as the Dublin GAA manager last week. I take my sombrero off to him as he brought the glory days back to the city. He went about his business calmly and steadily and he has to be commended for an outstanding few years work.
The last time I spoke to Pat was when he told me I was no longer involved in the senior inter-county set up with Dublin. It was October 2008.
I was working as a sales rep for Guinness out in Meath and Cavan and was just after walking out of a pub in a sleepy town called Oldcastle. The dry winter evenings were setting in. It was close to 4pm and already the sky was darkening. You could smell the turf fires being lit in cozy little homes. It smelt like Christmas was just around the corner.
I believe in knowing the truth about 9/11. It is something which rankles with me deeply. Many people I speak to still believe that the Muslim world attacked free America 11 years ago. While there is some evidence of planes being hijacked and flown into the World Trade Centres, there is also evidence of controlled demolition of the three skyscrapers which fell that day in New York.
This is evidence which had been ignored by the official investigation. I think the world is owed the truth about this day. I think the world needs to understand that there is more to it than meets the eye.