by Grainne

Let’s face it; we’ve all been in embarrassing situations.   Times we’ve been mortified over something we’ve done.  Wished with all our might we could undo it.  Well spare a thought (if little pity) for the Duchess of York – i.e. Fergie, who cocked-up royally this week.

She only went and was caught out offering access to her former husband’s services as British business ambassador to someone she thought was a bone fide business man but who was, in fact a reporter for the News of the World. 

She was charging a pretty penny too, accepting 27,500 pounds in cash upfront, but telling the reporter it would cost half a million pounds. 

Caught red-handed, and with video footage now being replayed on news and current affairs programmes and available on the internet, the Duchess, no stranger to controversy, was once again deep in doo-doo of her own making.

She issued a statement, saying she deeply regretted the situation and the embarrassment caused.  Mind you I’d imagine she tops the list of those most embarrassed by this latest escapade.   Having her toes sucked by someone other than her husband pales into insignificance in comparison. 

Curiously, she also said she was “devastated” after being filmed by the News of the World telling the reporter to look after her and she’d look after her husband and he’d “get it back tenfold”.  That would seem to suggest that while she knew well what she was doing was wrong, the worst thing was being caught.

At least she tried to clear the Duke, saying he was unaware of her murky dealings and was not involved.  It wasn’t enough to stop the rumour mill however and speculation is still circulating about what he did or didn’t know.  It’s put him in an invidious position.  Not to mention teeing off his mother who never seemed to have much patience with Fergie’s rambunctious ways and penchant for trouble.  Her daughters too will no doubt be affected by the disgrace she’s made of herself.

It’s been said that she did nothing illegal.  That’s as may be but ethically and morally it stinks.  The Duchess’s follies up to now have been of the more ‘harm-to-herself-than-anyone-else’ variety.  This latest blunder has more ominous overtones and serious consequences for far more people than her.

by Grainne

There’s a noticeable cheeriness in the air, a general lift in the public mood with the arrival of some lovely sunny days this week.

There’s nothing like a little sunshine, it seems, to take our mind off all the doom and gloom, the recession-depression that we’ve all felt burdened with.

With the Government still insisting that a) things were never as bad as they seemed and b) they are on the up anyway and the Taoiseach seeming a bit miffed that we’re not all that convinced, he is perchance thinking that, if he could just organise a bit of fine weather for the country every so often, we wouldn’t be giving him and his party such a hard time.

There’d be no ‘angry mobs’ of oh……10 or so people ‘storming’ the gates of Leinster House trying to gain access to the rarefied atmosphere of the inner sanctum, that lofty eyrie which closets Ministers and Deputies from the vagaries of the real world.  There’d be no angry mutterings from disgruntled punters in the pub, no angry letters to the papers from the disaffected, no diatribes on the soapbox of choice, the Joe Duffy Show.  Everyone would be far too busy out enjoying the sunshine and warm weather.  Especially as an awful lot of people can’t afford to go to warmer climes on their hols this summer. 

Religion used to be considered the opiate of the masses but with that no longer the case it’s entirely possible that the Government has considered finding a way to deliver more sunshine to our rain-saturated little isle as a means of sedation.  A perfect project for their partners in crime – I mean Government – the Greens perhaps?  Forget electric cars and giving us free rugby matches on the telly, find a way to harness the sun and dish it out on a less sporadic basis.  Get it right and the payoff would be huge, happy clappy people that don’t give a damn anymore about NAMA, the national debt,  our bailout of the Greeks, job losses, pay cuts, hospital ward closures or any of the myriad other grievances that usually make us irascible.

Which would be just as well because, this week I heard a few commentators break from the “signs of a recovery” mantra that’s  been pedalled by Government to say that, no, things still look fairly bleak.  The most recent was Des Peelo, the chartered account, mediator and arbitrator, who, when asked by the broadcaster on the Pat Kenny Show this week the stark question “green shoots or not?” paused before saying “no……unfortunately not.”   Co-incidentally, in wrapping up his morning show a minute later Pat Kenny urged people to enjoy “a sunny weekend.” 

I can see him now, Brian Cowen, staring out the window of his plush office in Government buildings, glowering at that orange ball in the sky and muttering “stick around for feck’s sake, we need you!”

by Aine and Grainne

Any thing made from fleecy- type material.

Shiny track-suit pants 

Skinny jeans

Ill-fitting bras

Thongs

Socks with little doggy or kitten motifs or other silly designs

Denim mini skirts

Hoodies

Skirts with elasticised waists

Tee-shirts with logos

IF NOT THE FASHION POLICE AKA AINE AND GRAINNE ARE COMING TO GET YOU!!!

Why?  You need to ask?  Because anything made from fleecy-type material shouts ‘comfort’ – aka ‘slob’!   Shiny track suit pants, any kind of tracksuit pants, or tracksuits or other sports gear for that matter should not be worn by anyone other than bona fide sportspeople.  And then only on the playing field!  No exceptions!

Skinny jeans – come off it.  Who do you know apart from Kate Moss that they actually look good on?  They scream ‘mutton’ on anyone over 35!

Ill-fitting bras do women a huge disservice.  Is it not enough that gravity is working again you, without you helping it along with baggy, saggy bras that bulge in all the wrong places?  Get fitted and get them perked up!

Thongs – don’t you just hate them?  Then why wear them?  Wearing underwear you have to dig out of your behind to remove is simply not nice.  You don’t even have the excuse of being young and ‘having’ to wear them to be cool.  So stop it.  Now.

Silly socks.  You’re not 12.  End of story.

Denim mini skirts.  You’re not 18.  End of story.

Hoodies.  You’re too old to be a grunge-meister.

Skirts with elasticised waists.  Who are you trying to kid?  If you need them for ease of fit you need to slim to fit into the same size – non-elasticised.

T-shirts with logos.  No, no, no.  They’re just wrong.

by Aine

I know I run the risk of sounding like a right auld whinger but I must use this forum to lament the lack of manners in today’s world.

You know what I mean, failure on a shop assistant’s behalf to utter the simple words “please” or “thank-you”. Those who don’t hold the door open, pretending not to see us.  Or someone we’ve let out in traffic fail to acknowledge the gesture.

People who greet us, shake our hand, all the while looking over our shoulder to see if there’s someone more important they could be shaking hands with.

That’s not only bad manners but downright annoying.

Also, speaking of handshakes, what about the limp handshake, the one which really seems to imply ‘I’m shaking your hand because I have to but I’d really prefer to be scratching a baboon’s arse’?

People talking loudly on their mobile phones in restaurants or other public buildings. I was in a hospital x-ray waiting room at Christmas when I was privy to a young man’s very loud mobile phone conversation which included lots of effing and blinding as though he were in the privacy of his own home.

Drivers who bear down on us, flashing their lights to get us to move out of their  way on the motorway. Not only bad-mannered but dangerous.

People who take up two parking spots because they are too selfish to park properly. Those who park up on footpaths making it hazardous for wheelchair users or people with biggies to use them.

People who allow their dogs to poo all over the neighbourhood making it unpleasant for kids playing on the only bit of green space for miles around.

Then there’s the 21^sts we’re invited to because we know the parents of the birthday boy/girl, and that same boy/girl hasn’t the good manners to bother greeting us or acknowledging the card and gift we brought.

Queue-jumpers – don’t get me started.  I share Grainne’s strong views on the subject! (See Service Station Blues on this page.)

I find that I have come to almost expect bad manners.   It’s become the norm so that, when I am on the receiving end of politeness, I’m surprised and delighted.

Tied in with bad manners, I believe, is a basic lack of respect. Now I don’t mean the kind of genuflecting and bowing that my generation were fond of and had instilled in them. But respect for everyone regardless of their profession or standing in the community. Everybody deserves to be treated with respect.

We need to get back to basics with this one and manners and respect for others should be taught to children from day one in the home and reinforced in school.

It’s never too late to change. Let’s start tomorrow with something as small as acknowledging the person who allows us out in the traffic with a smile and a wave of the hand.

By Aine

Has the world gone truly mad?  You would be forgiven for thinking so my friends.

Yesterday a Picasso painting sold for 70m in New York at an auction of impressionist and modern art. 70 million. That’s a hell of a lot of money.

We are in the midst of a global recession and somebody liked this painting enough to pay a whopping 70 million for it. It’s not even a particularly nice painting.  Called ‘nude, green leaves, and bust’ and supposedly a painting done by Pablo Picasso of his mistress, Marie-Therese Waiter, it was painted in 1932.

Apparently it has not been viewed publicly for fifty years. I can see why!

Might I suggest that whoever paid over 70 million for it, hide it away also, as it, for me anyway, does nothing. Zilch, diddly squat. I just don’t get it. In fact, I don’t get modern art at all. There now I’ve said it. Out loud. In the open!

When myself and Grainne were in London recently we visited the Tate modern gallery. I came away slightly bemused. What on earth was all that about? Is it me? Is there something I am not quite getting here? Or is there an element of ‘the king’s new clothes’ going on in relation to a lot of so-called ‘modern art’?  Methinks there is…. I can honestly say, hand on heart, there was not one piece in the entire place that I liked or was interested in.

In fact some of it I found shocking, as in a section of numerous photographs of a male model engaging in self mutilation of his genitalia. Art? Don’t think so.

Was it meant to shock? Provoke discussion? I’m really not sure. More than that, I wonder about the bigger question of validating by allowing it to be exhibited, what looked like, to me anyway, the work of a deranged man.

Believe it or not I actually love art.

I spent a fabulous few hours perusing the grand masters in the London National Gallery a few years ago. This gallery houses some of the greatest works of Rubens, Caravaggio, Rembrandt, and Turner, Monet and Van Gogh to mention but a few.

I have also been lucky enough to visit the Metropolitan Museum of art in New York, again where some of the most renowned paintings adorn the walls.

Now that’s what I call art, real art, the main deal, the real McCoy!

The detail in those paintings, the colours, the mood, the story behind them. Wonderful and thought provoking – genuine art on a grand scale.

I also visited the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam which houses the largest collection of his paintings in the world, including the famous sunflowers painting and several self portraits. Again I was mesmerised and enthralled.

I was at an antique fair some years ago, and I stumbled across some books of art. I ended up buying six of them for the bargain price of 30 euro.

The books include the Pre-Raphaelite era, and the French Impressionists.

They contain pictures of some of the most wonderful paintings that currently are on view in art galleries across the world. I often look through the books and marvel at the wonderful paintings and the workmanship and skill that brought them to life.

So you see I’m not a complete philistine, I do think I have an appreciation of art, it’s just the modern stuff that leaves me cold.

by Grainne

Those who know me will know that patience isn’t my strong suit.  Queuing is something I find particularly hard to do but it’s a necessary evil in today’s world.

So far this week I’ve queued in the bank, the post office, the queue to pay for parking at a machine in a shopping centre and waited in the doctor’s surgery to be seen.  Of course I also queued in line for traffic lights to turn green many times.  Of them all, the wait to see the doctor was the most trying.  I arrived very early morning in an attempt to be ahead of all others in various states of ill health, so that I might get in and out in time for work, only to find, to my dismay, that everyone else had the same idea of getting in early, ahead of the crowd.  And so I wearily resigned myself to a long wait.  There were so many people there I couldn’t even get a chair.  Things were made infinitely worse by the behaviour of those waiting.  Invariably, when their turn came, they fumbled, foostered and generally took their sweet time getting up off their behinds to go into the doctor’s office.  Some seemed genuinely surprised to be shaken out of their reverie by having their name called by one or other of the doctors.  One young man was called three times before someone thought to tell him to remove his headphones so they could convey the fact that the doctor was waiting for him.  He then proceeded, taking his sweet time, to wrap his headphones neatly around his mp3 player before stowing it in a side pocket of his rucksack.  Then he had to find another pocket to store his mobile phone, which he’d also been playing with.  When he’d done all of that he stood up slowly and deliberately and made his way into the doctors.  I wanted to roar at him to hurry up.

I mentioned traffic lights.  How come the changing of red to green seems to take so many motorists by surprise?  As in, they sit there for a full minute before thinking to move off.  Were they not expecting it to turn?  How long do they think the red will last? That’s particularly frustrating if you’re the one six cars back hoping to get through on that light change Grrrr!

Another bugbear of mine is people at supermarket checkouts who pack and stow everything neatly in their trolleys before even thinking of looking for money.  They look up from their busy fussing to see the checkout person patiently (far more patiently than me it must be said!) waiting expectantly for the money.  They seem surprised.  What could he/she want?  Oh!   Money!  Payment!  Of course.  Cue to much fumbling in handbag (because, it must be said, this is largely a female trait…….a man needs only to remove money from his pocket or wallet and doesn’t take nearly as long.)  Often it is then that the transaction transpires to be via some type of card that takes longer to process.  Meanwhile I’m standing there, fuming, at the person’s nonchalant rudeness to other customers waiting in line – for that is what it amounts to.         

For all of my dislike of queuing (or perhaps because of it) I hate queue jumpers.  Those people who come along and say, without looking you in the eye……excuse me, can I just ask…..? and then proceed to leap in ahead of you.  Like whatever hurry they are in, whatever business they have to do, is of much more importance than yours?   Or what about someone who’ll come up to the salesperson that’s actually serving you with some query or other than takes their attention away from you.  Worse still if the salesperson stops serving you to go and see to the queue-jumpers query.

I know there are those who say that patience is a virtue and queues a part of life but it’s not actually the queuing, now that I come to think of it, just people’s inability to help things along by being a bit more ‘with it’ when their turn comes to be served.