The Pursuit of Hairlessness

Generation gaps don't always show up in the way you expect them. Music is normally used as some kind of divider but the splintering of the musical scene over the last ten years means that most people zoom in on the genres they like and associate themselves with brands they identify with. In Holland the main music channel for young people is TMF and since I never stopped being a pop kid I know my tunes even if I am on the arse end of their demographic.
It's not really fashion either. Age does indeed change what one can and does wear but my relentless training and dieting means that I still wear size 32 jeans and I am just as likely to buy a Mexx or Zinder t-shirt as somebody ten years younger than me. I look my age more or less but I am still not so chronically unfashionable that I would start to get dirty looks in a more fashionable bar.
I could point to computer games as a generational Grand Canyon. Younger males especially tend to have, to my mind, an unhealthy interest in gaming. Gaming has moved beyond its previous nerd terrain to encompass the mainstream. However, the fact that this youth pursuit has become so omnipresent actually means that many older 'boys' are heavily into it. Thus my total and utter lack of interest in gaming is not really a marker of my age.
No, the great divide for me lies in the world of hair. Something happened somewhere in the last ten to fifteen years and I missed it. While I was busy monitoring my progressing baldness and occasionally trying to tame the forest that is my eyebrows others had moved on to regions far beyond the obvious. I turn on the television now I see adds for a razor designed to shave one's chest! I pick up Men's Health and I see an article about grooming one's nether regions. I overhear a work conversation where two men are discussing shaving their legs (admittedly they are cyclists).
Of course it must have something to do with being married and the days of being 'on the pull' or 'sharking' long behind me. There was no pressure on me to conform to this new hairless world and it seems that I remained blissfully unaware of it for years but now it's firmly (and smoothly) in my face.
I was in a work meeting last week and we were having the general chit-chat one has before the real proceedings begin. The conversation went like this:
Man 1 - I saw a cool film last night in the hotel called "The Forty Year Old Virgin".
Man 2 - Seen it too. What about the bit where they wax his chest? Ow!
Man 1 - Yeah,a girl was telling me the other day that the only place a man should have hair is on his head.
Woman - Yes, Dutch women don't like hairy men, they should be smooth. When I go in the sauna now I only see men with no body hair.
I listened, I digested, I took into account that these people were ten years younger than me and then I prayed to God in thanks. The whole idea of shaving and waxing your whole body is just crazy. I will admit to trying to 'surprise' my wife a long time ago with a smooth, shaven chest only I came out in a rash and it kind of ruined the moment when she did arrive at our rendez-vous hotel in Berlin.
Eyebrows, face, back - yes. Rest of body - no! If being hirsute is my generation marker then call me a hairy brute but that's just the way I am.

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Uaigneas

Uaireanta bíonn uaigneas orm cé nach bhfuil mé im aonar, lár muid mo comhoibrí, le mo páistí, le cairde nó daoine aitheantais.Ní féidir le mo bean chéile é a thuiscint, cén fáth go bhfuil rud éigin in easnamh dom. Tá poll i mo chroí amhail is go bhfuil cumha orm i ndiaidh an bhaile ach ní hé sin é. Mothaim stoite mar fear siúil ag falróid gan stad, ag lorg comhchumar neamhfhéideartha. Ach céard atá ar fáil agam in aon chor? Ar an gcéad dul síos bheadh sé ar iontach ar fad má bhuaileadh mé le níos mó daoine eile leis an suim céanna atá agam i dteanganna iasachta agus iGaeilge freisin. Bíonn mí-ádh orm nuair a chuirim aithne ar Éireannach eile agus nach bhfuil suim aige teanga an tír seo (an t-Ollainnis) a fhoghlaim. Mar sin níl aon eolas orthus faoi cúrsaí reatha na tíre agus tá siad ina gcónaí, a bheag nó a mhór, sa tír eile, comhthreomhara sin - an domhan expat. Tá éad orm le mo bean chéile agus an pobal Pholannach atá aici, tá siad go léir in ann an t-Olainnis a labhairt agus níl ceist ann ach go bhfuil siad ag glacadh pháirt is shaol na tíre seo.
Ar an dtaobh eile caithim a rá nach bhfuil mé go huile compordach le muintir na hOllainne. Tá mé imeasctha go breá ach beidh mé i gcónaí im eachtrannach agus níl fadhb agam faoi sin. An dífríocht idir mo shaol agus saol mo bean chéile is ea go bfhuil a pobal féin aici ach ní gceapaim go bhfuil an rogha céanna agam. Níl an pobal Éireannach anseo cosúil leis an pobal Pholannach mar go bhfuil na hÉireannaigh i measc na expats eile. Is é sin míbhuntáiste an Béarlachas arís. Ní thaithníonn an domhan expat liom mar go gcónaíonn sé go minic i gcoinne an ósttír.
Is é dúsháinn mo shaol thar sáile. I gcónaí ag léim an dá bhruach a chailleadh. Uaigneas ag iarracht bheith i mball de an iomarca grúpaí, agus i ndáiríre, gan bheith éasca in aon.

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Things Fall Apart

"Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe is a short novel which was first published in 1958. I was given a copy by my father who studied African literature as part of his Open University Arts degree. The novel tells the tale of Oknokwo, a proud Ibo warrior, with aspirations to be the leader of his clan. As a person with very little knowledge of Afican history I found the description of the tribal structures and rituals fascinating. The title of the book pertains to how the clan falls apart as the white missionaries come and bring their new culture and ways which start to destroy the tribal traditions. Achebe takes the position of an observer in this novel and  glorifies neither the old nor the new ways. This novel makes me aware once again of how much English literature is out there that I was previously unaware of and it has given me the taste to try more from the Heinemann Afican Writers series to make up lost ground.

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Le Resquilleur du Louvre (The Squatter in the Louvre)

I subscribed to the Linguality French Book Club last year in order to avail of the French books they publish with English annotations. I really enjoyed the first book I read called "Chemins de fer (Railways)" by Benoît Duteurtre which was about a Frenchwoman torn between her love for the traditional French country lifestyle and the inevitable modernization of the region she loves so much.

I just finished the second book which is called "Le Resquilleur du Louvre (The Squatter in the Louvre)" which is about a homeless man who starts to sleep in the Louvre. The book takes you on a journey which conisists of the man's memories interspersed with contemplation of the works of art around him. It took me an age to read this because of my total lack of knowledge of art. Somebody who loves art and the French language might like the book but the highlights for me were the personal anecdotes from his youth and the story of how he ended up vagrant.

My experience with this book demonstrates both the strength and weakness of the book club. On the one hand you are introduced to books that you would normally never read. On the other hand you may end up force feeding yourself a book you are not  keen on just to practice reading French.

With Linguality itself I am very disppointed because the club is supposed to send one book every two months but I have received only three books of the six I should have gotten. For this reason I do not recommend subscribing despite my enthusiasm for the idea.

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An Seomra Tobac (The Smoking Room)

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours in Lisbon airport reading "An Seomra Tobac" from the The Open Door Series: As Gaeilge. In the same way as their counterparts in English these books are edited to deal with adult themes in a readable manner and this book does not disappoint covering infedility, separation, abortion and evil in a slim volume.

The standard of Irish was quite high and having no dictionary I only understood about 90%, there were plenty of unknown words and others that I only picked up through context. The story of how a man in an unhappy marriage meets a woman in the smoking room at work is well told and the book meets its objective of providing intermediate level speakers with some enjoyable reading material.

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The Friday Weigh-in

I had one hectic week as I was in Lisbon for a few days at a conference. I did the usual training from Friday to Monday but that all went to naught when my plane took off early on Tuesday morning.
Maintaining a healthy diet at conferences, as many of you will know, involves a degree of self-control and self-denial that only a Trappist monk could maintain. From arrival to bedtime you are presented with canapés, petit-fours, bowls of fruit salad, nuts etc. Lunchtime involves three courses aided and abetted by wine. The first night the whole group had dinner at the restaurant in St. George's Castle (Castelo de São Jorge, see picture) which was another Bacchanalian feast. The second night I went to my sister's and had some beer and Portuguese style chicken with my sister and her husband. I tried to just eat half of everything I was given to limit the damage.

I got back last night and this morning I didn't bother weighing myself as I am sure that there is no change. I did finally finish the French book I have been reading and I also managed to read another book in Irish called 'An Seomra Tobac' ('The Smoking Room') by Julie Parsons. I'll talk about them another time.
I was very impressed with the Portuguese language, it is so beautiful. I managed to have quite a good chat with my brother-in-law's mother. She spoke Portuguese and I spoke Spanish with Portuguese words where I knew them and Italian words where they seemed to fit. I made myself understood and I understood her okay so I was very happy. I'll definitely go back to Portugal soon, the people are really friendly and cool and that language is up there with Italian in the sexy stakes.

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Ar nós Walter Mitty

An rud is ait liom féin is é an suim mór atá agam i dteanganna éagsúla is nach mbíonn deis agam de gnáth formhór iad a labhairt. I mo gnáthshaol bainim úsáid as an mBéarla, an t-Olainnis agus an Pholainnis. Cloisim Fraincís go minic ar cuairt i dteach mo deartháir ach is é an Béarla an príomhteanga ann agus níl mórán suim acu mo droch-Fraincís le blas lán-Béarlach a chloisint.
Anois is arís bím ag siúl im aonar agus tosnaím ag caint liom féin i nGaeilge nó iSpáinnis nó fiú i Sualainnis. Is sórt aistear samhailteach atá i gceist. Comhsúil le buachall óg ag aislingeacht faoi scannáin Hollywood is sórt réalt mé im domhain teangacha féin, is Walter Mitty iltheangach, fíor-dána mé. Is minic freisin a éirím ar maidin tar éis brionglóid ar fad i dteanga eile. An difríocht idir an taibreamh agus mo fíor shaol is go bhfuil i bhfad níos mó blas agam i gach uile teanga. Ceapann mórán daoine go bhfuil siad níos líofa i dteanganna iasachta agus iad ar meisce, i mo chás tagann líofacht na dteanganna dom is mé im choladh.
Más rud é nach bhfuil deis agat teanga a labhairt an fiú é a fhoghlaim, a léamh, a chur chun cinn? Cén fáth go bhfuil mé anseo i Lisbon ag scríobh as Ghaeilge anois muna mbeidh cómhrá agam sa teanga seo roimh i bhfad? An freagra atá agam is go bhfuil mé i gcónaí ag fanacht ar an ócáid gan choinne. Má tá mórán teanganna agat tagann an deis luath nó mall iad a labhairt agus níl aon rud chomh sásúil liom ná úsáid a bhaint as teanga gan súil leis na cainteoirí dúchais go bhfuil sé agam. Leis an Ghaeilge, gan amhras, tá níos mó i gceist ach is mór liom a rá go bhfuil grá agam do gach uile teanga. Is é sin mo shaol.

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Born European

There was a very interesting and timely article by Garrett Fitzgerald in the Irish Times yesterday about how the Irish state only managed to achieve unequivocal sovereignty after joining the EEC in 1973. Before joining the European project the Republic of Ireland had been almost entirely dependent on the British export market. The EEC allowed the Republic to finally engage with the rest of the world economically and to move away from considering every political issue with reference to the British position.
There was quite an interesting discussion on Three Thousand Versts in relation to this. Chekov brought up the fact that the Republic of Ireland has a very ambivalent attitude towards the EU especially now that the days of large monetary transfers are over. I argued against this notion as follows:
"I am a nationalist that was brought up in Ireland as a European. Ireland has always had historical links to the rest of Europe and people of my generation were delighted that the EU gave us the chance to escape from the Irish self-definitions exclusively based on not being England. You are looking at things like the monetary transfers from the EU but many Irish people would talk about the Erasmus exchange schemes, the right to travel and work in other EU countries and liberating laws on things like homosexuality which are reasons for the ROI to be glad for having joined the EU."
I was born in 1972 and was maybe part of the first generation of Irish people who thought of themselves as the ' young Europeans'. For me there was never any question but that I was European just like a French or a German person. It was quite a shock when I lived in England to hear people talking about 'Europeans' as a group apart when I never doubted my own identity as an Irish European.
I won't say that I am a typical Irish person but my attitudes were certainly formed by my Irish upbringing. I was brought up to speak as much of another person's language as you possibly can. From a young age I can remember trying to speak French when there were visitors around from our twin town. Again the attitude of British people to other European languages was a major shock when I lived there. Many people I knew in England could not speak any other language than English because they had only done two years of languages at school whereas every Irish person I knew took three languages at school.
I saw so many Irish people go to different European countries to study on Erasmus exchange schemes or to work. At the age of 19 I went to do a year's internship at Philips in The Netherlands which I arranged myself. I took a year off my studies at Sheffield University to do this and what was driving me was the desire for more European experience. Like many Irish peers I wanted to embrace the EU and the opportunities it had to offer. Later the European Social Fund paid for my MSc at Queen's so I did actually benefit financially too from the EU.
The funny thing in debating the merits of Irish nationalism with northern unionists is how similar my thinking is to their's. The difference is that I see that Irishness is something that can prosper in a European Union context whereas they see that their Irishness can only be protected in a United Kingdom context. As I said on Chekov's blog:
"You have a very consistent message on how you feel Britishness can encompass a plurality of (changing) identities.  Almost all Irish people are unionists but they are mostly European unionists and not British unionists. The very same plurality of identities you prize in the UK is something that the Republic of Ireland has embraced as a sovereign state in the EU. If Irish nationalism were as prescriptive as you believe then I could not have had the upbringing that I had in Ireland."
Garrett Fitzgerald's article puts the Ireland I was brought up in eloquently into context.

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The Friday Weigh-in

Today I feel like I a new man, I am getting back to the fitness levels I had last year and this week I upped the intensity of my training. I am now swimming 50 lengths of the pool and I started running again in the gym. This week I trained 6 days out of 7, ate no rubbish and consumed no alcohol so I am pretty sure I had a large calorie deficit. However, on the weighing scales I came in at just under 80kg which is a very small change. At the same time my tight fitting trousers are getting a lot more comfortable around the waist so I think my stable weight is not reflecting fat loss.
My diet bible is a book called the Gut Buster Waist Loss Guide and that book actually emphasizes that the important measurement for a man is waist size and not weight. What's happening to me now is illustrative of that because not losing weight does not mean that you are not improving your body shape.

My Italian course got cancelled because there were just two people who registered. I am disappointed but I am taking it as a sign that I should concentrate on my languages at home so I am already working on a language plan to make that happen including starting Italian on my own and especially getting back to Spanish and French in a big way.
Next week I am off to Lisbon for a conference that includes a dinner at some castle. I am staying at a hotel with good sports facilities but I always find it so hard to be bothered when on business trips. My sister and her family live in Lisbon so I will catch up with them while I am there. The best I can hope for in the next week is to maintain the status quo as regards my get healthy program but hey Lisbon should be fun.

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A Quiet Belief in Angels

This is quite a long novel so it saddens me all the more to have to be so disappointed on finishing it. I feel like I have just finished a big bag of peanut M&Ms in the movie theatre, I wish that I hadn't bothered and I didn't even enjoy the experience so much. I bought this novel on the strength of some great reviews so perhaps I need to consider the reviewers I trust more carefully.
The novel centres around a boy called Joseph Vaughan whose life is overshadowed by the brutal murders of a series of young girls. The boy is a writer and his journey as a writer and his relationship with death and the dead are inextricably interlinked.
The novel's problem is that it does not know if it wants to be a thriller or a literary novel. At times the writing is superb especially when dealing with his romantic relationships. As a whole it does not fit together and towards the end when the book does become a thriller the dénouement is a major anti-climax. The murderer is revealed but with no foundation and no explanation of his motivation.
There are so many vital books out there and most people have so little reading time. My advice to you is not to waste your time on this novel.

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Multilingual Communication

In English you often hear expressions like 'let's make sure that we're all speaking the same language'. It is a given that communication is at its most effective when everybody is speaking the same language. However, life is not always so straightforward.
In business environments the language of choice for meetings is normally dictated by corporate rules. More often than not international meetings are conducted in English except for the case where all participants speak another language more fluently. In my company local meetings are in Dutch but as soon as there is somebody who cannot speak Dutch the whole meeting switches to English.
In highly multilingual environments such as you will find at the European Union offices the choice of language shows more variety because there are so many people who are proficient in multiple languages. I have heard anecdotally that French is still very strong for meetings involving the older generation but English is now dominant for meetings involving the younger staff. Smaller meetings can be held in any number of languages depending on the profile of the participants.
In these situations there is clearly one language being chosen as the lingua franca. However, when you talk about personal communication the waters muddy somewhat. I prefer to speak Dutch to Dutch speakers because I speak it all day every day. If they insist on speaking English I will normally let it go as long as they are fluent.
With other languages I have a very different experience. I hear Polish at home all of the time and I watch some Polish televison every day. However, my spoken Polish is not fluent and I know I am making lots of mistakes. If I am speaking to a Polish person who speaks no other languages then we speak Polish. If they speak fluent Dutch or English then I prefer to speak those languages.
Sometimes though we have the situation where they speak Polish and I reply in Dutch or English. In this case they can understand one of those languages well but do not speak them particularly fluently. Their level is more or less a mirror of my Polish level so in this case it is more effective if we speak our own, different languages. Essentially we are communicating more efficiently by choosing not to speak the same language.
My wife made a Russian friend recently and she is having the exact same experience. She used to spaek fluent Russian but no longer remembers enough to speak it well. However, she understands it almost perfectly. Last week she was sat in the park with three Russian mothers. They spoke Russian and she said her part in Dutch as they all understand it and that was better for her.
In many ways you can see how natural this phenomenon is when you observe children who have been brought up in a bilingual environment. In our environment we know many mothers who speak minority languages such as Polish or Spanish and their father speaks Dutch, which is also the community language. The children realize that their mother speaks Dutch as they hear her speak it to their father and even to them at times. Logically they feel comfortable addressing their mother in Dutch even if mama is speaking back in Polish. There is no question of miscommunication, they understand their mother perfectly. They just find it easier to speak to her in their stronger language. A girl I knew from Finland was brought up hearing her father speak only Finnish and her mother replying to him in Swedish. Sometimes we do indeed understand each other better when we are not speaking the same language. Life's funny like that.

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Stuff White People Like

It's not often I read something as entertaining as the Stuff White People Like blog. I stumbled across it on a search to do with multilingual children and what a delicious store of laughs this is. It holds a tongue-in-cheek mirror up to white American vanities such as pretending to enjoy classical music or how many black friends they have.There is something there for everybody (you don't need to be a white American by any means). Read about yourself and cringe. I am still squirming in my Abercrombie and Fitch sweater.

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Anchorage

Red's comment on my last post about Sarah Palin being from Anchorage made me think of the Michelle Shocked song "Anchorage" which is one of my favourites of all time. It was a standard drunken campfire type song when I was younger. I was checking the lyrics again and I came across this site where they discuss song meanings and reading the lyrics again I see how well this describes the dilemma of settling down versus enjoying your freedom. The friend who is stuck in Alaska seems almost apologetic about having made the choice to settle down "I sound like a housewife, Hey Shell, I think I'm a housewife". Both her husband and herself are telling the friend in New York to keep on rocking though their rocking days are behind them.

                 "Anchorage"
I took time out to write to my old friend
I walked across that burning bridge
Mailed my letter off to Dallas
But her reply came from Anchorage, Alaska

She said:
"Hey girl, it's about time you wrote
It's been over two years you know, my old friend
Take me back to the days of the foreign telegrams
And the all-night rock and rollin'... hey Shell
We was wild then

Hey Shell, you know it's kind of funny
Texas always seemed so big
But you know you're in the largest state in the union
When you're anchored down in Anchorage

Hey Girl, I think the last time I saw you
Was on me and Leroy's wedding day
What was the name of that love song they played?
I forgot how it goes
I don't recall how it goes

Anchorage
Anchored down in Anchorage

Leroy got a better job so we moved
Kevin lost a tooth now he's started school
I got a brand new eight month old baby girl
I sound like a housewife
Hey Shell, I think I'm a housewife

Hey Girl, what's it like to be in New York?
New York City - imagine that!
Tell me, what's it like to be a skateboard punk rocker?

Leroy says "Send a picture"
Leroy says "Hello"
Leroy says "Oh, keep on rocking, girl"
"yeah, keep on rocking"

Hey Shell, you know it's kind of funny
Texas always seemed so big
But you know you're in the largest state in the union
When you're anchored down in Anchorage
Oh, Anchorage
Anchored down in Anchorage
Oh, Anchorage

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Thirties/twenties

My thirties are like a video tape on fast forward speeding inexorably towards my forties. I rarely get to come up for air. Some day I will wake again and realize that I do not have to rise because there are no obligations but that day is quite some hair loss away.
But your thirties don't have to be your thirties any more, do they? There is another model where you extend your teens well into your twenties and then live what would have been your twenties in your thirties. I see this happening all around me with many acquaintances showing no concern for settling down or having children despite having reached the age of Christ.
Without having two lives it is impossible to judge the relative merits of the various choices. One thing I can say though is that I could not imagine wanting to live the high-speed life I have now at the age of 46 as opposed to 36. The way I look at it my forties are going to be more about me. I love having children but you lose so much of yourself and by nature your marriage focuses far more on the children than on each other.
In any case there is something about me that is fundamentally conservative. Before I even met my wife I always said that I wanted to be married before I was 30 (I got married aged 29). I envisaged children in my thirties and so it has transpired.
My life has been guided by forces of social convention more typical of the 1980s than the modern age. When I compare my situation to those around me the life stages I have followed are now more the exception than the rule. Most people I know are around the same age as me and I know more unmarried people than married and more people without children than with.
In many ways I am puzzled at my attraction to liberal environments while being such an inate conservative. I made the conscious choice of living in one of Europe's most liberal countries and yet my own lifestyle is as conservative as can be. Perhaps I am something of a voyeur in that I enjoy seeing other people live lives beyond the obvious, taking risks, having adventures and writing their own rule books. As for me, just like a frightened bird in an open cage I dare not abandon ancient diktats of dubious value, they give me succour, these rules anchor me. Anchorage, now that's a comfortable word.

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Miss Polonia

Ever the high-brow culture vulture I excitedly sat down with my amour to watch Miss Polonia on Saturday night. Unless you count the first night of the Rose of Tralee whilst I was in Ireland the last beauty contest I watched was Miss Italia in 2007. Maybe I just understand too much Polish compared to Italian but I was definitely somewhat underwhelmed.

When asked what she would do if she won a million dollars the winner Angelika Jakubowska (below) said that she would "travel and buy lots of clothes and shoes". After that answer she went down somewhat in our estimations. There was one very confident and smart girl but she only came second which was a pity.

It might be politically incorrect to say it but what surprised me was how many of the contestants had a bit of a tummy. Very few of the contestants looked as though they worked out. I imagine that many are adherents to weight loss/preservation through diet and not exercise. You don't get a hard stomach just by eating less. Maybe they should be watching less Fashion TV and more Olympics.

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She's growing up

Yesterday was one of those days when I am  happy and proud to be a parent. My Luna's favourite sentence for the last few weeks has been "I can do it myself!". This is not always quite true but yesterday I saw flashes of my daughter as a grown girl who really does not need my help. After all of the drama last week at the Irish Dancing I was very very nervous about going back again but she proved me wrong.
We arrived at the class and she told me that I could leave. There were no tears, she just joined in and started to dance with the other children. One hour later she came out smiling and laughing. The teacher told me that she was like a different person. Afterwards we went to the swimming pool and she had armbands on so she just kept pushing me away and saying "I can swim by myself". She has done so many new things in the last few weeks because of it being the start of the school year. I glanced her as we were driving home. When she is happy she is all eyes, huge green-brown eyes and long lashes. When she is happy I see what she is and what she will become. I don't feel scared because if she keeps being strong and seizing the day our job will be well done.

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The Friday Weigh-in

Not a good week for my efforts to get back to a healthy weight. After my swim this morning I weighed in at 80kg (<>) so it will be next week before I am back in the seventies. The reasons why are clear enough though. I only trained four times (3 swims, 1 gym) and I had a big night out on Wednesday with my company's white party at a beach restaurant in Scheveningen. I also drank a litre of wine on Saturday so any calories expended in training were more than compensated for. On the positive side my intake of rubbish food has been negligible.I will really up my game this week and with a big enough calorie deficit I am sure I can reach 79kg by next Friday.

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Ma vie movie

I am no fan of memes but I got this one from Thriftcriminal which I quite like. I need to cast the film of my life:

Rules:

• List the people who would play you and all involved.
• Give credit to the person who tagged you.
• Link your answers to the original blog.
• Nominate four more people to have a go.

To play me there can only be one choice really. It has to be Ethan Hawke because I have loved his acting since I first saw him in "Dead Poets Society". When watching "Before Sunrise" and "Before Sunset" I felt like I was watching films about my own life. "Gattaca" remains one the most powerful commercial films I have ever seen. I have also read his two novels and the fact that he has the intelligence and versitility to be both a fine actor and a writer only magnifies his greatness in my eyes. Ethan - the part is yours if you want it!

Casting the actress to play my wife Agnieszka is a bit trickier. My instincts would be to ask Uma Thurman to team up again with Ethan à la Gattaca but I don't think that that would work given that they are divorced.

My favourite actress is Jennifer Love Hewitt and she also ticks the versatility box because she is a great singer but I don't think that she is quite right for this part.

In the end I decided to cast Alexandra Maria Lara as my wife. Her performance as Annik Honoré in the Ian Curtis biopic "Control" was breathtaking. She comes from Romania originally and speaks many languages so she can certainly play my wife to perfection.

The two older girls will have to be played by animated characters. Any one of the Disney princesses could play Luna.

My Daisy would only want one girl to play her, it just has to be Dora.

 Nadia is easy. Just grab the nearest baby with large blue eyes like this one.

The only other person I will put in the film is my brother Declan who can be a mischievous character played by Billy Zane.

If Conor, Norway Nomad, WRW and English Mum fancy a go I'd love to see what you come up with. I won't bother plaguing your blogs with a tag though.

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Economics 101

One of the bemusing aspects of reading the Irish media is the inability of many journalists to put news into perspective. A case in point is this article from today's Irish Independent trumpeting the creation of 1,500
new jobs in two new retail developments in Dublin and Limerick.
The retail sector can only be a real growth sector in an economy if there is money coming in from outside of the economy. New York is an illustrative example of this, attracting as it does millions of shopping tourists every year. A new retail development or a headline store in New York might well attract additional retail tourists to the city just as a hallmark Las Vegas hotel might bring in even more punters.
I do not think that a retail development in either Limerick or Dundrum is likely to register on the consciousness of shoppers anywhere outside of those urban areas. There may well be 1,500 jobs created but the consumer Euro can only be spent one time so it would seem likely that the improved retail 'experience' at Dundrum will only result in a displacement of spending from another shopping centre to this one. How come the journalist fails to mention the 1,500 jobs that will surely be lost in other centres as a result of these developments?
There can be little argument that the Republic of Ireland actually needs more retail outlets. In fact it would seem that shoppers are once again flocking over the border in droves. Since the economy of the Republic is clearly in reverse it is likely that there will be less retail Euros to go around going forward and if a big slice is going to the North or to the aforementioned Big Apple then these retail developments would seem superfluous.
If 1,500 jobs were being created by an Irish company that had a unique product or service it was exporting to the rest of the world it would be a reason to rejoice. That would be a good news story.

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Cars and Me

Why did car bumpers stop being bumpers? When did it become unacceptable to bump the car behind you to squeeze out of a space after two asocial gits have parked so close in front and behind me that I have no room to get out? Like, I like you other human beings and all that but I like a bit of space too. You might think it's friendly to park so close to me, I think that you're asking for it and if I wasn't such a considerate soul I'd give it to you too.
I am getting so scared of getting boxed in that I have taken to parking either at the top or the bottom of my street whenever I know I'll need my car (I live in the middle of the street). If it is late in the evening and I have enough space outside my house I give myself half a car's length in front of me just so I know I can get out for sure without damaging the car in front of me.
They did some IQ tests on me in my teens and there was one capability where I scored in the lower percentiles. It was spatial awareness. I have a very dulled concept of how big my car is relative to the space available. Where you might see enough space to park a bus I see a nice spot for a Fiat 500. I'm into wide open spaces, empty football fields do it for me.
In a future world I will have on-board screens depicting where I am relative to my neighbour's car so I will not have to keep stopping the car and getting out to make sure I have not gotten too close. Objects in the rear view mirror don't just look closer to me, they are closer in a visceral, suffocating way.
You may wonder how I managed to get on the road with this problem. The answer is simple - overcompensation. I plan before I drive. I avoid rush hour like root canal surgery. I am the proverbial Sunday driver, in a past life I must have had a pink or blue rinse (why do they do that?).
Every car journey for me is a date with destiny. I know that a car can be a lethal weapon in the wrong hands. I  may not be so dextorous but I treat my Nexia as a hunter treats his rifle. I use it sparingly. For me driving is a necessity, not a pleasure or a right.

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Children being children

For somebody as impatient as me children are a permanent exercise in self-restraint. I've seen enough of Supernanny to know the pointlessness of blowing a fuse. I have a hard time motivating intelligent adults to do things they are paid to do so it should come as no surprise that my charms are even less potent when it comes to getting kids to do what I want them to do. Bribery has been removed from our parental toolbox as this is one of the great 'not dones' of the Supernanny manual so what to do?
Last weekend we were faced with two challenges. Firstly, my two older daughters started at the Polish Saturday School in The Hague and the whole family went along for the initiation. This school is wonderfully run by a dedicated team of volunteers and it is heartening to see such motivation for passing on the Polish culture to children living abroad.  We had quite a few problems at first with our girls moaning and crying and refusing to join in the initial singing activities. However, one of the teachers literally took the girls by the hand and before long they joined in. The parents were asked to leave (at which point I exited stage left to go to the gym). The three hours of school ended a tremendous success with both girls moaning because they wanted to stay at school and not leave. On Sunday the first question Luna asked was "When I am going to Polish School again?".
The second challenge was the Irish dancing lessons on Sunday. After a nightmare journey because of road diversions we arrived late at the hall. I went to the swimming pool with Daisy so that she would not get jealous (she is too young to dance). Aga went in to the hall with Luna and that's when the panic and crying started again. She hates new experiences and starts saying that she cannot do things. Aga did everything to encourage her to join the lesson but she just stood on the sidelines frozen and unable to let herself go. The teacher said that we should try again next week and if she doesn't want to join in to just forget it for a while.
This Sunday I will be taking her there alone and I am dreading it. I plan just to leave her in the hall and wait outside with the other parents but she may have a crying fit and then I will be forced to deal with it.
As an adult it is very annoying because she actually does want to learn Irish dancing. It is so illogical that she cannot just let go and join in but when were children ever logical? Times like this I wish I was the warm fuzzy adult that seaks softly and that children love. Instead my nature is purely rational. As a child I always jumped in to the water rather than ease my body slowly in to the cold. Delaying pain was pointless. I learned early that life is full of things you don't like doing but my daughter is not me and I wish I knew how to make these things easier for her.

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Shifting, Dating, Matchmaking, Marriage

The ebb and flow of the dating game seems to one of blogland's richest sources of materials. Us old marrieds read in wonder, half-missing the thrills and excitement of the search for love but smuggly thanking our lucky stars that our train passed that station long ago. For me Flirty has certainly got the most entertaining blog of the genre but Conan Drumm's blog has had some gems lately including this top post. The world has certainly changed from the slow dance and shift in the disco that was the standard means of seduction back in my day.
In Holland this week we saw the launch of a reality program called The Irish Matchmaker which features three Dutch ladies of a certain age being set up by Willie Daly of Ennistymon. I am not sure how much success the women will have. One of the candidates called Sophie certain knows how not to endear herself to an Irish male  as she says that she has "never been in Ireland but she has a thing about the United Kingdom". Oh yes, bring on those geography and history lessons.
In theory I am a big fan of matchmaking. A British Indian guy I know has been on lots of dates with girls introduced via his parents. There is no pressure to marry any of girls and he dates other girls in parallel. He certainly never complaining about it. My grandfather and grandmother were matchmade and he always made a point of telling us how much he had loved her.
The chances of meeting your ideal partner while out drinking in some bar or club would appear to be slim. At the same time that's how practically every married person I know met their partner. It's a funny old game as they say.

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Irishmen in the British Army

There was a very interesting discussion over on Slugger O'Toole about the increase in the number of young men from the Irish Republic joining the British Army. As I commented over there, this is in no way a new phenomenon. I know of at least four guys around my age from my home town who joined the British Army in the early 1990s.
What is peculiar in this discussion is how people try to attach political motives to this trend. To my knowledge the Irish people joining the British Army generally do so because they want to be a soldier and the entry requirements are low. The Irish Army has limited places available and requires the Leaving Certificate to get in. I have read before that the French Foreign Legion has 10 applicants for each place available so that makes it difficult to get in to. In such circumstances it is not surprising that young men choose the easiest route towards a soldiering career.
What annoys me is when people try to read it as some kind of indication of loyalty to the United Kingdom. This quote from a commenter over here typifies the sentiment "I, too, welcome Irish Citizens in joining up. Ireland was, of course, part of the UK when the Irish Guards were established; so it's only natural that there'd be a tangible connection."
This is attributing some kind of pro-union sentiment to people who are making a life decision which has probably got nothing to do with any political feelings and everything to do with a desire to get in to an army, any army. As one Irish soldier said in the Irish Times article ""We joined because the Irish Army weren't recruiting at the time. Me and Molly had two choices: either the British army or the French Foreign Legion. And neither of us could speak French, so that was that."

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The Olympics Test

Something I touched on before was my distaste for ringers representing countries with which they have tenuous links. The practice was visible once again at the recent Olympics and it led to a very interesting discussion with my brother.
I was the first our branch of the Walsh family to be born in Ireland since my grandfather was born in what was Kingstown (Dún Laoghaire). My grandmother on that side was born and raised in Manchester but her parents were from Tipperary. I used to see a lot of her in the time I studied in Sheffield and she always spoke with pride about the fact that the next generation of the Walsh family was growing up in Ireland.
If I had have been any good at sport I could have represented Ireland or any part of the UK through my British born father. At a push I might have been able to engineer an American passport as my father's grandfather was a naturalized American citizen. I now qualify for Dutch citizenship but I have decided not to naturalize for now. My children have Irish and Polish citizenship and will qualify for Dutch citizenship if I naturalize. I imagine that they could also get British passports. My brother was born in the UK and his kids can potentially get Irish, British, French or Dutch passports.
The British politician Norman Tebbit once came up with the cricket test to measure the Britishness of UK immigrants. His basic question was whether an immigrant from say India would cheer for England or India in a cricket test match. If we looked at an Olympics test of nationality what determines the choice of somebody who has several options? In my case I would only ever have considered representing Ireland if I had been any good at sport. I did not support UK teams in any sport (except Northern Ireland) so it is doubtful that I would have even considered representing one.
For my children life might be a little less straightforward. If they were good at hockey then it would make sense to play for the country of their birth as The Netherlands has the best women's team in the world. But what if they were not so good, might they start thinking about representing Ireland or Poland? My brother made the very good point that Great Britain has excellent rowing teams. If your children are good rowers and qualify for GB what would stop them making that choice?
I try to bring up my children with neutral attitudes towards all nationalities. There is no point in giving them the history of Ireland and influencing their attitude towards England. I want them to see British or German or French as people with different traditions and languages that are no better or worse than their own. At the same time I have to admit that I would be extemely unhappy if there ever came a day when one of my children took out a British passport so that they could represent the UK at something. Perhaps I better just keep quiet about that option.

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The Friday Weigh-in

As James Brown said 'I feel good, I knew that I would'. Nothing like clearing away the cobwebs and getting back in to action. This week I weighed in at just over 80kg (-3kg on last week). I expect to be in the 70s again by next Friday and getting back down to my baseline weight.
In terms of fitness I had three 40 x 25m swims and three 40 minute training sessions in the gym. My diet was in good order with no cake, chocolate, crisps etc. Losing weight is quite simple when you are using more energy than you are consuming. All of the fad diets in the world cannot alter that simple logic.
Tomorrow is the girls' first day at Polish Saturday school so we are really interested in seing how they get on. On Sunday we have Luna's first Irish dancing class so it is all go.
The one deviation from my regime was the beer I consumed at a 12.5 year wedding anniversary party on Saturday (it's a Dutch thang). It was a fantastic party at a beach restaurant in Katwijk. There is nothing so romantic as watching together as the sun goes down at the beach. We were very happy to be invited by a couple on ours street, it is a privilige to have the chance to celebrate with Dutch people and we were the only foreigners there.
This Wednesday my work has organized a beach party in Scheveningen with a White theme. The average male does not possess white trousers so we have all been talking about what to do. I bought some skinny white jeans on-line which my wife says are so low cut that they could be women's jeans. Whatever, they'll do the job and I have a fancy white shirt from a New Year's party a few years back. I also purchased some ultra-white Adidas sneakers so I will pass the White test.
That will be another step off the path to physical improvement but health is not just physical after all and sometimes you have to go with the flow.

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The Right Choice

I was talking with a Dutch acquaintance a while back about his children's study plans. One of things I said was that I like the way the Dutch education system streams children from quite a young age into profiles so that those who want to be say a baker or a mechanic can leave school with a recognized diploma in these areas which will allow them to enter the world of work. Children who are likely to follow a university or polytechnic education are also streamed off at the end of primary school following a test called the CITO.
The whole Dutch system is supposedly interlocking but I have to say that my acquaintance above does not see it that way. He actually thinks that the Dutch system streams too rigidly and too early and he is worried that his children will have no way back if it turns out that they have made the wrong choice.
Making the right choice about what to do with your life is a challenge faced by young people everywhere. I was in Ireland last month at the time of the Leaving Certificate results and what struck me was how little has changed since I did that exam in 1989. Most of the star students were still talking about studying Medicine and Pharmacy. The Irish system is a prestige system where school leavers attempt to gather as many points as they can based on their grades. If you score the points for Medicine you get in even if that course may be unsuitable. It is not uncommon for people to have Medicine as their first choice and then have something totally unrelated like Law as a second choice. The consequences of the Irish points system for the Irish medical profession were described recently in a good article by Kevin Myers on the gender imbalance in Medicine.
In Ireland the need to give more people the chance to study Medicine has been recognized by the introduction of postgraduate entry courses at the University of Limerick and other institutions. That is certainly a very positive step and it tips a hat at something which I feel quite strongly about. The American educational system features some aspects which I feel that other countries should be taking on board. Medicine and Law are not undergraduate level courses in the American system which clearly recognizes the benefit of making the decision to specialize in these areas at a later point in your life. Moreover, the American collegiate system promotes a much broader educational experience at undergraduate level. Effectively students can find the right profile at undergraduate level and specialize later. In The Netherlands the advantages of this approach have been recognized with the establishment of university colleges such as the Roosevelt Academy and University College Utrecht which provide a broad liberal arts and science education similar to the American model.
In my view the majority of 16 or 17 year olds are not mature enough to make the right study choice. Anecdotally I know countless people, including myself, whose profession has nothing  to do with what they studied. In an ideal system streaming similar to the Dutch model should be in place with the correct tools to at least identify a schoolgoers basic profile. At the same time specialization should not be compulsory until the point when a young person has at least some idea about what they want to do. It is of no advantage to the economy to have square pegs in round holes so the focus should be on making the right choices and not on making hasty choices at a young age.

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Fashion and Respect

There was an interesting post on Corcaighist about the sight of two tourists in Cork holding Union Jack umbrellas. I can fully understand Colm's viewpoint that it is pretty disrespectful to go around a city in the Irish Republic with said umbrellas. The analogy of taking a Soviet flag umbrella on a trip to Estonia is apt.  

However, the Union Jack is a fashion symbol just like the US flag. Whatever Irish people may think about the flag people all around the world seem to love wearing it on all manners of clothing. I was buying new runners the other day and I saw some Reeboks that I liked only to see that there was a small Union Jack after the Reebok name. Although I liked the runners I am not in the business of wearing another country's flag on my person so I put them back and chose another Adidas pair (without a German flag on them).
Many years back I had a major blow-out with an ex from Bristol because I refused to sleep under a Union Jack bed cover whilst visiting her friends. I have no problem with the Union Jack being used appropriately but I do get annoyed at seeing it on all manner of other paraphenalia and thingamyjigs. In the above context I would have been annoyed but I would not have said anything because I am a past master at conflict avoidance.

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In Search of a State, Arabs in Israel

My summer vacation this year was one of the least productive ever in terms of reading books, I only managed two in over a fortnight. After reading Sayed Kashua's "Let it be morning" I was suitably inspired to buy his first novel "Dancing Arabs". The novel deals with an Arab boy growing up in Israel and the conflicting emotions he feels towards the Israeli state and the Palestinian nation. The novel was quite disappointing as there was no real story to grip me and I found the style quite staccato "I did this and then this and then this happened......". "Let it be morning" covers the same ground in a more gripping manner.

"The Attack" by Yasmina Khadra is a wonderful novel which questions the nature of fundamentalism, nationalism, terrorism and the Israeli state itself. What do you do when your whole world is swept away by a bomb blast? When all the certainties you had are no longer valid? Is life always more important than politics? Can an Arab be a normal Israeli citizen with loyalty to a state that sees him as an enemy within?

These are some of the questions Khadra poses in a haunting novel which takes the reader on a journey that makes one wonder if any belief is basic, irrefutable and true. 

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