Tweet Follow @sfitzyfly The people I meet everyday.: April 2013

Saturday 27 April 2013

Boston is Healing.


It's as if the natural elements felt Boston needed an emotional lift. The birds are singing, the sun is shining and the cherry blossoms along the streets are in full bloom. The city is starting to heal.

If the mayor and all the city councillors could have engineered it, this is how they would have wanted it. A bright dry weekend to entice people back onto the streets of the city to say "Boston is back open for business."

And how they have come.

The streets are thronged. The shops are heaving. The city has many sporting events on over the weekend. And people are making that extra effort to attend an event or to just come and pay their respects.

Boylston Street is back open since last Wednesday. People have come from far and wide to visit the makeshift memorial just off the street, on Copley Square. They come to take pictures of the two sites where carnage impacted the lives of many on Marathon Monday.

People still cannot comprehend why. Until we know the ultimate motives for this sickening tragedy, the city will not have closure. But with the speed and professionalism of justice, I hope that day is not too far away. And you can see that healing process beginning.

Just like Independence Day here on July 4th, where it is an unwritten rule to wear red, white and blue for the day - Boston has come together. Everywhere you go you see people wearing blue and yellow - the colours of the Marathon this year.

The slogan of "Boston Strong" has never been more evident. By wearing the colours you are standing together with those who were affected by the events on that Monday. Whether people donate a dollar to the One Fund or by placing a memento at the memorial, it makes people feel they are helping Boston to heal. Everyone is so utterly proud of the community spirit.

People have come to support the businesses that have lost out because of the bombings. Even the mayor and city councillors have set up special interest free loans for small businesses who have been financially affected.

I went to the small business that is close to my heart. I went into Marathon Sports today. The shop was busier than I ever remember it. They have had to put in an extra cash register to cope with the influx of customers. Stock is only placed on hangars before it is quickly taken down. People want to buy the blue and yellow sports gear with the Boston Marathon logo emblazoned on it.

I briefly got to talk to the manager, who I have gotten to know over the last number of years from my many visits to the store. I passed on my condolences and mentioned that I had been thinking of them. It was clear that his emotions were just bubbling under the surface. To be that close to such a terrible tragedy has to be scarring to an extent. But he quickly changed the subject and talked about the future. 

Which is how healing begins. You move on. But you remember those who you've lost.

But what will stay with me most about Boston healing was an image I saw many times today. The sight of young men and women taking it in turns to run up and down Boylston Street with a large green flag. Written across the flag is "We are Boston."

It's as if they are reminding us all that the human spirit cannot be broken.


Friday 19 April 2013

Eerie Boston.

The streets are empty. People glance nervously and suspiciously at each other. The sound of rotor blades fills the sky. Sirens blare intermittently in the distance and then fly by you with no notice, as you jump within your own skin. Everyone is on edge.

A light breeze throughout the city brings you noises from afar. The sound of flag lines thumping off their poles make more noise than the traffic on the street. A strange lulled silence has fallen over Boston today. The city is on lock down - people are advised to stay indoors. Cars are not allowed to be removed from garages.

This is what living in a curfew is like.

People are eager for information. Every television station has up-to-date news pictures. Various street scenes fill our screens, as we await the end game of the second suspect.

For most, the conclusion cannot come quickly enough. Emergency crews and police officers have to be applauded for their swift response to such an extraordinary event. The advent of social media and the everyday availability of camera phones and CCTV footage has no doubt aided the investigation. In these circumstances, having cameras everywhere will bring these insane individuals down.

Police crews have pulled out all the stops. They are working on twelve hour shifts, constantly bringing a security presence and keeping everyone on alert. In times like this, you are comforted by their professionalism and dedication to duty, to bring these evil perpetrators to justice.

I am sitting in my hotel room in Boston right now. I glance between the television screen and out my window onto Huntingdon Avenue. Public transport has been shut down for the day. Workers have been advised to stay home. Only a couple of convenience stores are open.

The next few hours may tell another tale.

Hopefully the city of Boston will get closure and get back to some degree of normality.




Tuesday 16 April 2013



The What If.

 
Last night I finished work with a heavy heart.


The events in Boston hit me hard. This was a world event that directly affected me.

Boylston street was bombed twice yesterday. I have walked down this street many times - most recently last Wednesday.

Last week I stood in a shop on this street. I talked to the manager of Marathon Sports. This is the store next door to where the first bomb went off. The store is located near the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

The manager was in great form, talking about the impending marathon. It's normally their busiest time of year, where they get an inordinate amount of runners into their store. They were crazy busy, and the staff were smiling and working hard.

But now people will visit this area for another completely different reason. They will visit to take pictures and say "This is where it happened!"



Some person, and I'm being extremely polite here, decided to take the lives of others whom they don't know. They took the lives of innocents for their own selfish and ludicrous reasons.

Upon watching the television reports, the realisation started dawning on me. Seeing the senseless loss that occurred and the familiarity of the surroundings that were being shown on every screen, I started wondering "What If?"

My first concern was for myself and my wife. She arrived home from Boston just yesterday. She could well have been down at the finish line, taking pictures.

I have run a few marathons, and always wanted to run Boston because it always has been a runners marathon.




If I was in Boston yesterday, I would have been down at the finish line.

I would have been watching the elite marathon finishers.

I would have been in the crowd, outside Marathon Sports. I would have stayed for a while watching people achieve their own personal glory of finishing a marathon.

But then I realised that we can't live your life wondering "What If?"

Otherwise these bastards will have won. Life is for living - not for gauging your own mortality and questioning your potential actions.

 

 

 

 
 

Thursday 11 April 2013

Car Crash Theatre.

Two nights ago I was entertained by a form of theatre I had never experienced before. It made me wince and feel uncomfortable. It made me shake my head in disbelief and question my own sanity. But did I look away? No, I didn’t. Why? Because it was fun.

At the TD Garden in Boston on Tuesday night, a good friend of mine and I made a decision to go watch WWE Wrestling on a whim. We got cheap tickets and for two hours we watched grown men and women dance, cavort around a ring and mock punch each other. It was hilarious. For pure unadulterated entertainment, it has changed my own perception of wrestling. But only just slightly.

What was more worrying (and more entertaining) were the attitudes and characters in the audience around us. Some views were abstract and quite narrow minded. Grown men jeered the wrestlers onstage calling them homophobic names – yet they had bought a ticket to come watch buff, athletic men fight other fit men in tight shorts. And I’m talking budgie smuggler tight.

But despite some ignorant name calling, the vast majority knew their wrestling. They knew all the names of the moves, throws and the types of slams. But the kicking and punching is the funniest part of the show. They barely even make contact. But on television, the reaction of the person being punched or kicked sells it. But some of these punches ‘land’ from two feet away.
This form of entertainment is huge in America. This show tours all over the country, selling out everywhere they go. They sold more tickets last year than U2. So why is it so popular? And then it hit me with a mock punch – it appeals to all people, young and old. No one really gets hurt, good normally triumphs over evil and everyone goes home having being entertained by a spectacular show.

The vast majority of the crowds are middle class Americans, who had come with their young children to be entertained. Of the twelve or thirteen thousand that attended, I would say three or four thousand were children under the age of ten. A lot of the slogans and hooks that each wrestler has have a positive message. John Cena’s slogan is “Never Give Up.” That’s positive reinforcement for any budding young American.
But leaving the stadium, we saw the fanatics. I know every sport and form of entertainment has their own eccentric type of fans, but these were bananas. And most of these eclectic fans were grown men who worshipped these wrestling icons. They truly believed the spectacle of what was being sold.

I’m not really sure if I need counselling after it. But the crowd, the show, the outfits, the acting and the pure madness will live with me for a long time.
Only in America.



     

Wednesday 10 April 2013


 A Six Year Old Celebrity.

The golfer, Seve Ballesteros, was a man I admired greatly when he was alive. I was lucky enough to meet him once. But it was a quote he made many years ago that stuck with me more than actually meeting him.

A journalist asked Seve after he won the British Open in 1979, what motivated him. Seve had played a shot from the tarmac of the car park, which had everyone around the world talking about his prowess and talent.

“It’s not how good your good shots are, it’s how good your bad shots are.”

The same could be applied to your working day. It’s not the good days you remember as they can be quite forgetful. It’s normally the bad days that are stressful or eventful. But every once in a while, you remember a very good day for all the right reasons.

I had the occasion of meeting a young lady this week that made everyone smile. Her name was Saoirse and she was six years and three months old. This young girl had just spent five days in Euro Disney with her grandparents and was on her way home to Dublin.

She had an amazing time and told us of what characters they had met. But she was also looking forward to seeing her friends again.

Saoirse was not an incredibly chatty young lady. She was quite shy, but once we all kept talking to her, she slowly came out of her shell. Her face lit up at every turn of phrase, seeing wonderment in everything the world threw at her.

Her grandparents were very kind and sincere and you could see this characteristic of theirs rubbing off on Saoirse. She offered me one of her Wheelies (crisp snack) and some of her chocolate. Her gran stated that she had been like that since infancy.

I wondered why her grandparents had accompanied her on the trip, and not her parents. I asked rather delicately and politely why her parents hadn’t made the trip instead. The gran was quite upfront and honest.

“We thought that we’d give them a break themselves. Sure they haven’t had a holiday since Saoirse was born.”

“A break?”

“Saoirse has Cystic Fibrosis.”

This young lady showed no outward signs of having anything physically wrong with her. She was a beautiful child with blonde pigtails, sparkling blue eyes and the most disarming face. She was of average build and height for a six year old. She was one contented and relaxed child.

The granddad was fiercely proud of his granddaughter.

“It was our absolute pleasure to take Saoirse away for a few days. I’ll never forget this trip. The time together was amazing – she loved every minute of it.”

I could tell by the pride in his eyes that he enjoyed it too. But then he revealed something that made me just realise that I had been chatting for the past hour or so, to an actual celebrity.

Saoirse is the new face of Cystic Fibrosis Ireland. She recently had a photo shoot with Miriam O’Callaghan for the organisation to help promote their cause.

So when you see a bus shelter advertising, an ad in a newspaper or a big poster on the side of a double decker bus – you will see the prettiest and most gentle looking face peering back at you. And I’m not talking about the RTE television host.

 
 

I’m talking about Saoirse – the six year old celebrity.   

Friday 5 April 2013

Blinking Indicators.

It's something that annoys us all - bad drivers. They are everywhere, as we scream from the comfort of our own cars. I had a great teacher from Navan, called Paddy Pryle- himself a former taxi driver. He frightened the bejaysus out of me on my first lesson. He instilled in me the life and death responsibility you have when you are behind the wheel of a car. You are responsible for the lives of others.

But not everyone has such a fine teacher as I did. I was only driving with a provisional licence for six months but I had picked up so many bad habits in that time. It took many hours of driving practice but Paddy knocked them out of me.

I don't often get frustrated in life, but I do behind the wheel of a car. People are idiots behind a steering wheel, and I am no different. But I am a considerate driver.

One thing that utterly irritates me most, is the lack or incorrect use of the indicator. It is such a simple tool. Today, I nearly had two accidents and neither of them were my fault and I still got abused.

Incident one was when I approached a roundabout in the right lane. I was turning right and had my indicator on to go that way. In the left lane at the traffic lights beside me was a woman who had her indicator on, going left. Nothing wrong there so far.

But then she turned right. Into my lane. I had to jam on.

As we approached another set of red lights, I pulled up alongside her. I made the universal sign of 'wind down your window down'. I asked her if she realised what she had just done - but she didn't see any wrong on her part. And then she told me to piss off.

Fifteen minutes later I encountered a taxi driver who was multi-tasking. I drove behind him for about two minutes while he talked on his bluetooth device, whilst pressing buttons on his digital display. His car was wriggling in and out of two lanes, his focus clearly not on the road. I stayed well back.
 

As we approached another roundabout and he took the second exit off the roundabout - again without indicating. Then he started his lane-squirming again. I beeped my horn to get his attention and he jerked his wheel left to pull into the left lane. I moved into the right as I was turning right. At the lights, he beeped at me. He opened his window and began shouting expletives at me for beeping my horn at him. How dare I use my horn for safety!

I think he used the words "Are you blind? Could you not see where I was going?"

If he had used an indicator at all at any stage, I would have known where he was heading. But my powers of telepathy were on the blink.