HEART BEAT Maurice NeliganYou learn the most amazing things on your travels. I for one knew little of Gen James Shields who apparently won the American Civil War almost single-handedly for the Union.
You can forget Grant, Meade, McClellan, Sherman and the rest; Shields from Altmore in Co Tyrone was the main man. At least that is what his great grand whatever Dr Frank Shields from Dungannon told me, and those of you lucky enough to know Frank are aware that he is incapable of exaggeration!
I think that was the main thrust of his message but as the occasion was a wedding, I might be slightly confused. Frank was the father of the groom and his friends from all over Ireland had gathered to celebrate with him and Mary. Conor, the groom, and his twin Cormac (my son-in-law) are, like their father, dentists, and Frank wishes me to state that special terms might be available to readers of The Irish Times.
The wedding was in Sherborne in Dorset, just over the county border from Somerset and we were royally entertained by Dr and Mrs Forward, whose beautiful daughter Clair was the bride. All in all among the guests we numbered 27 doctors of various descriptions and from various countries. We compared notes about different health delivery systems and we Irish were at a major disadvantage. Our faltering attempts to describe the Irish system foundered abysmally. It was like trying to describe Mickey Mouse to martians.
The wedding reception was in Sherborne Castle, the present edifice having been built by Sir Walter Raleigh. It was here that a servant, finding him smoking, threw a pot of beer over him. I am sure the taxi driver in Mayo recently caught by an environmental health officer while smoking in his own cab might have preferred that solution rather than a court appearance and fine. During the case a principal health officer with the HSE explained that passengers in the vehicle might be exposed to second-hand smoke. I can only presume that the windows did not work. I note this with interest while also noting that serious assaults in Dublin have risen fourfold over the past few years. Not for the first time do I think we have our priorities skewed.
It was my first time to travel since some clown apparently smuggled two atomic bombs through Dublin Airport. Reaction from the authorities was swift and decisive. Joe and Josephine Public are now herded through security like cattle in a lengthy process. Shoes off, belts removed, along with everything detachable, as part of this inane procedure. When you finally make it you have to dress again on the far side, thus impeding those still coming through. Some old people had great difficulty in replacing shoes, as had some ladies with boots.
I know what this is about and the relevant staff were patient and courteous, in what must have been for them, also, very trying circumstances. However, I must ask why is this demeaning chaos only visited upon us here? How do other countries manage efficiently and expeditiously as evidenced by the return journey?
It beggars belief that nobody in authority can be unaware of the damage that this farce is inflicting on tourism and business. We natives are one thing but everybody else can vote with their feet and bring their business elsewhere. I don't suppose our mighty rulers experience this for themselves. Another terminal with the same people in charge is mooted. So much for competition and the provision of service. The same tired old monopolies maintain their stranglehold and the rest of us suffer. It is like the health service; you put the same people in different jerseys and pretend you have a new team.
I had not been in the southwest of England for some time and fond memories were quickly revived. Pride of heritage was obvious and planning rigidly enforced. No bungalow blitz or crazy BES schemes here; rather ordered development in conformity with the centuries. I understand that no new motorway is being contemplated near Stonehenge. Clean streets in orderly villages and towns raised invidious comparisons with home. There were nice pubs closing at reasonable hours, no obvious public drunkenness and a discreet police presence.
All of England is not like this of course but many rural areas are and we could learn from them. Do we have any pride in our beautiful country and are we willing to do anything to ensure that we maintain our heritage?
Back again to our sainted isle. Back to Dublin, with the cranes dotting the skyline. Non-economists' little doubt intrudes upon me. Why is there so much office space to let? Do we really need so many hotels? Are they all full? Will we need all the small private hospitals that are now mooted? Do we need motorways that are not commensurate with any future projection of traffic flows? Must they be tolled? What happens when all the cranes fly away? Is our industrial base, whose competitiveness is being steadily eroded, strong enough to maintain us when we have built more than enough and every second person is working for the State? I think we all know the answers. Have we the strength now to stop living a lie?
Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others' action;
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie. - The Lie (Sir Walter Raleigh)
Dr Maurice Neligan is a cardiac surgeon.