Head Rambles

Grandad February 19th, 2007

I like Cully and Sully pies.

I like their name – it’s quirky. But I like their pies better. If you have to buy a ready made pie then they are hard to beat. And I expect them to deliver me a major supply for mentioning that.

There is also a publican down the country [somewhere] who likes them too.

And he is apparently outside the Cully and Sully delivery area.

Our publican friend was desparate for his pies and he had to find a solution. And he did.

Cully and Sully now deliver the pies to the publican’s local Garda station. They bung them in the back of a squad car and deliver them to the pub.

I’m delighted for the publican as he and his customers are getting their pies. I’m delighted for Cully and Sully as they continue to grow in the Irish ready made food market.

But most of all, I’m glad our crime wave is over. The last criminal has been put behind bars. No one else is breaking the law. There is not a single motorist driving recklessly.

I feel sorry for the Gardai as they now have nothing to do.

Except for the Gardai in one station who have found an excellent use for the states resources.

Do you think I’m making this up?

• Cully & Sully , Rants
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Grandad February 18th, 2007

There’s a big fuss going on about the cost of a tribunal.

Now I don’t really follow these things, but from what I can gather, the judge who is running the tribunal says the cost will be no more than €300 million [which is quite a lot].

But the minister says the cost is one billion [which is quite a lot more] and he is outraged.

I would have thought the judge would have known a little bit more than the minister about this.

Imagine the scenario -

A bloke has been having a wild night with his mates in the pub and it’s getting near closing time.

“Hey barman” says the customer, “any idea what the final tab is going to be?”

“Well” says the barman, “they haven’t finished drinking yet, but it’s near closing so it won’t be more than three hundred.”

“A thousand euro” screams the customer. “That is outrageous”

“No” says the barman, “three hundred”

“A thousand is a ridiculous amount. I’m going to write to the papers and I’m going to complain to Joe Duffy”

“It is definitely three hundred” says the barman, “and probably a lot less. But three hundred at tops”

“How can you possibly justify charging a thousand for a few drinks? This is madness. I’m writing to my TD. I’m going to picket the pub. I’m going to go on hunger strike”

“But I told you it won’t be more than three hundred. They haven’t ordered takeouts yet but it still won’t be any more. I’ve allowed for that”

“How can you live with yourself charging a thousand for a night out with the lads? It is obscene. I will make this the talking point of the nation”

And so on, etcetera.

I would have thought the barman would have a better idea of the final bill. I would say the customer was losing the plot.

But what do I know about these things?

• Politics , Rambles
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Grandad February 17th, 2007

I have quite a large garden.

This is a very nice thing to have, but it leads to problems.

There are a lot of trees and shrubs, not to mention unwelcome visitors like ivy and brambles.

Every time there is a strong wind, I find more branches down or even a tree or two. One of my trees is becoming somewhat lopsided due to its losing huge branches to the gales. A sort of arboreal allopecia. And then I have to trim back trees and prune them. And remove brambles and ivy. Sometimes I have to remove shrubs.

All of this leads to a lot of stuff in a big heap in one corner of the garden. How do I get rid of it?

I cut up the bigger branches and trunks, and split them into firewood. The smaller branches are also cut up for kindling. But the rest – the twigs, the ivy, the brambles and general garden rakings – are now forming a mini-Matterhorn.

In years gone past I would have a good old bonfire. One good fire would dispose of the lot. I am an expert on bonfires. And I love the smell of them. I am considerate too. I only had bonfires an days when the wind was blowing away from any houses in the neighbourhood.

But of course the councils now say I can’t have a bonfire. I can’t burn wood in my garden. But strangely I am encouraged to burn wood in my house. I can actually get a grant to get a wood burning stove.

So if I burn wood in my garden, I get fined. If I burn wood indoors I get a grant.

I’ve had a brainwave. I’m going to put my Matterhorn into a neighbours house and set it on fire. I not stupid enough to do it in my own as we already have a coal fire.

It will be quite legal, and maybe I’ll get a grant?

• Around the house
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Grandad February 16th, 2007

We were sitting by the fire last night.

It was very cosy. There was a strong wind outside, so the coal fire was smoking badly which is does when the wind is from a certain direction, but we were warm and contented.

I was trying to read a book between the coughing and sneezing, and I could see Herself through the blue haze reading a magazine.

“There’s a questionnaire here” says Herself. “It tests to see how absent minded you are”

So she started firing questions at me.

You know the kind of thing – “Do you ever repeat a joke or story to the same person” [yes] or “Do you lose items around the house” [yes].

There were twelve questions in all. I asked her how I rated.

“I reckon you scored more that 16″ says Herself.

“There weren’t 16 questions” says I.

“No” says Herself “there are only twelve. That’s strange”

It turned out there was a scoring system but she had absent-mindedly missed that.

So she tried working out my score but got confused.

“How many did you answer Yes to?” she asked.

“I’ve forgotten. I can’t remember the questions.”

So she tried asking them again, but we got confused with the scoring system. So we dropped it.

She went back to her magazine and I went back to my book and the smoke went back to filling the room.

We don’t need some damned magazine trying to tell us our minds are getting old. We know our brains are as sharp as ever.

• Around the house
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Grandad February 15th, 2007

When I left school, I went to study electronics in Technical College. Nowadays they call it the Dublin Institute for Technology, but in those days it was just known as Kevin Street.

I don’t know why I did electronics. I wasn’t that pushed about it, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Anyway, every year we had an open day where the public were invited in. We all had to sit in the labs and look like we were doing experiments, and had to answer questions from the public.

My pal Noel [in order to protect his identity, I've used his real name] and I were given the best one in the lab. We managed to get the experiment with the big oscilloscope and the fancy displays, so there were lots of wiggly lines flasing on the screen, and loads of wires and components and dials and things. It all looked very impressive.

But after the first hour we got tired of talking to people who didn’t understand a word of what we were saying, so we decided to spice things up a bit.

We started telling people about electrons flowing through the ambibombulator down into the flunge where they had explosive reactions with the ether. We were quite inventive.

And as we were making it up as we went along, each demonstation was different from the one before, so people started coming back for the next demonstration. We were the hit of the laboratory.

On old man took a particular interest. He lapped it up, and actually started getting involved.

“So let me get this right” says he “when the electrons zip down the klopper tube they hit the flunge at the end?”

“That’s right” says I “and then the green ones are captured by the gringe, while the red ones carry on to the popperometer”.

“Fascinating” says he.

He left.

About ten minutes later, the head of the college came over.

“I believe you had a visitor to your stand a while ago” says he, “a short chap with grey hair and a bow tie”.

“Thats right” we said. “He was a nice bloke”

“That was the head of the Electronics Faculty of University College Dublin” says he. “He was very impressed with your demonstration. He said you were very enthusiastic and inventive and were very creative in your use of electronics. He said you’d go a long way. Thanks lads for not letting Kevin Street down”.

The old man was standing behind him listening in.

He grinned and winked at us.

• Rambles
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