Posted on in movies, netflix, parenting, tv

My Top 5 Netflix Movies

The television has always been my friend (I remember the arrival of Channel 4 like the birth of a new sibling) but never more so than in the past few months. Whether it is sitting down with the kids after a hard day home-schooling, or relaxing with Niki after the exhausting bedtime routine is completed, or just kicking back for some escapism / nostalgia on my own away from the harsh realities of the outside world, the TV and in particular Netflix has been my lifeboat in the icy waters of the real world as the Titanic heads towards the depths. So without further ado here are the 5 Netflix movies that have kept my head above water over the past three months.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. A triumphant celebration of the possibilities of youth, particularly when you have access to a high powered automobile! John Hughes’ masterpiece has its own particular resonance for yours truly. More years ago than I care to remember, I was brought to see Ferris as my special confirmation day treat. There was only one problem, for some reason the Irish film censor (a notoriously contrary fellow who previously denied us Irish folk “The Life of Brian”) had categorised the movie as 15 rather than PG 12 (from a quick bit of research I see that it has been re-categorised as PG 12 in the past 35 years which makes my sense of injustice even stronger). This meant that despite the fact that my parents had already seen the movie and were quite happy for me to enjoy its delights, the staff at the Adelphi Dublin were not so obliging. I had to wait until it came out on VHS before getting a glimpse of that red Ferrari. Boy was it worth the wait. I watched it again with the kids when it came out on Netflix and I remain baffled by the original rating but hey, the Adelphi is long gone so who is laughing now!! Anyway the movie about a charismatic teenager playing truant hits all the right notes (i) a super musical number involving a parade and the Beatles, (ii) a truly excellent villain in dean of students Ed Rooney (with special mention to the maitre d’ at the snooty restaurant) (iii) a life affirming themes which although a bit schmaltzy at times still leaves a warm glow all these years later and (iv) a great soundtrack which is well worth a listen. The movie is also a great advert for Chicago which remains on my list of places to visit, not sure I’ll ever get to drive that Ferrari though!

Groundhog Day. First of all let me state that I’m a big Bill Murray fan and this list could very easily have turned into a Top 5 of his movies. In the end I had to settle for just two, with this tale of a man having to re-live the same day over and over again getting the nod as one of my choices due to Murray’s immaculate comedic performance, even by his standards. For me Murray’s ability to perfectly blend blatant selfishness with charm is what sets him apart, well that and his comic timing. Frequently you hear of stories where he rips up the script and will ask the director (in this case his Ghostbusters’ co-star Harold Ramis) how he wants the scene to work and then takes it from there. In this tale, set in rural Pennsylvania, we are introduced to the groundhog (a type of squirrel who doesn’t climb) which can predict the weather and the annual ceremony associated with this (always reminds me of Dorothy meeting the elders in Munchkinland). Although the reasons why Phil (BM’s charachter) is stuck in this time-loop are never made explicit, it is clear that he is going through some type of purgatory where he initially uses this knowledge for self-advancement before coming to the realisation that this ego-centric behaviour is ultimately unfulfilling. What makes the movie stand out for me is the number of wonderful set-piece sequences, in particular the progression with old college friend Ned Ryerson, the restaurant scene where he recites French poetry (actually a song by Jacques Brel, as someone who studied Jacques Brel and French poetry in college, I appreciated this) to impress Andie McDowell and not forgetting the slightly darker but still hilarious multiple suicide attempts! Even the ending which does have a saccharine sweet element to it manages to hold the tone of the rest of the movie thanks to Murray’s delivery. I could watch this one again and again and again and again!

Lost in Translation. Again this one has some personal relevance for me. I watched Sofia Coppola’s masterpiece in San Francisco while I was travelling home from a year in Australia. Like the protagonist in this movie, I was thousand of miles from friends and family and while San Fran isn’t exactly Tokyo in terms of a clash of eastern and western cultures, it is definitely not leafy Clontarf on a drizzly day. The movie tells the story of Bob Harris (a toned down Bill Murray giving a career best performance) and Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson before she became mega famous) while they are both staying at the same hotel in Tokyo. The whirling music and the sweeping cinematography perfectly capture the dream-like quality of being all alone in a strange land. There are enough pieces of comedy from Murray to keep his die hard fans happy, such as the scene where he gets trapped on a runaway cross-fit machine and the interactions with the whisky advert director (on the rare occasions where I drink whisky I still feel obliged to say “for relaxing times make it suntory time”). However it is ultimately a love story with some beautifully tender moments between the main protagonists, particularly in the karaoke bar where both Johansson and Murray excel using their varying vocal talents. Interestingly, when I first watched the movie I had more in common with Charlotte whereas when I watched it recently, I was definitely more aligned with Murray’s character (obviously without the marital infidelity). A great movie to watch when you want to drift away to somewhere different.

Marriage Story. So what happens when Kylo Ren and Black Widow decide to get married!? Well you get a bittersweet story of how even seemingly good relationships can go wrong! Seriously though, it did take a bit of time for me to get used to Adam Driver in his non-Star Wars role but once I got over the fact that he couldn’t move things with his mind, I really enjoyed his performance. In fact this movie is full of strong acting performances with Laura Dern well deserving of her Oscar as the street-smart divorce lawyer. There is also Julie Hegarty (of Airplane fame) adding comic relief as Scarlett Johansson’s mother. The plot is not an unfamiliar one with the successful male being gradually eclipsed by his aspiring actress female partner and how this shift in power exposes cracks in the relationship. There are also echoes of Annie Hall with the shift in focus from New York to Los Angeles and how Driver struggles in the new environment. The movie is also a study of the conflict between getting the best deal for yourself while also being able to live with how this can negatively affect those who are or were close to you. In the end Marriage Story finds a balanced and humane way to deal with this. Bring a box of tissues when you set back with this one (Niki had to hand plenty to me).

El Camino. If you haven’t seen Breaking Bad then this one probably isn’t for you but if you are like me and think that the story of Walter White’s descent into hell is the greatest piece of modern television, then this one is essential viewing. El Camino deals with what happens to Jesse after the events in the finale of Breaking Bad. It is filled with the same gut-wrenching tension that made the series so watchable and has plenty of flashback moments so that we get to see some of our favourite characters for the last time (assuming they don’t all make an appearance in Better Call Saul at some point). Aaron Paul is excellent in the familiar role as Jesse but for me it is Jessie Plemons as gang member Todd who is the standout performer with his casual and under-stated menace. The movie is a breathless journey with Jesse moving from one crisis to the next while seeking a way to extricate himself from the mess that Walter White entangled him in when he chose him as his partner in crime all those years ago. The movie is an ultimately satisfying end to a great journey.

So there you have my 5 picks. The first two I watched with my boys (7, 9 and 11) and they thoroughly enjoyed them, the second two are great for curling up on the sofa with a partner and well, the last was just a treat for yours truly. And remember, life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while you might miss it!

 

Posted on in dance, dublin, music, parenting, tik tok

Tales from Lockdown Part 3

 

In previous weeks I have discussed how online quizzes and jigsaws have helped me and my family (Aaron 10, Lochlan 8, Oscar 7 and Ella 3, not forgetting my ageless wife Niki) get through this incredibly strange period of our lifetime. This week I want to explore an area of modern culture which had completely escaped me before March 13th, that is tik tok dance routines. As bit of background for the uninitiated, tik tok is a social media app which originated in China and is ideal for short-form mobile videos. It seems to have filled the void that was created by the fall of Vine (I miss those 6 second tidbits of fun) and run with it in a big way! Of course the fact that it comes from China has led to some concerns about data privacy but hey, ain’t that just a fact of life these days! I first came across tik tok when people started to post various tik tok challenges on twitter, which is where I pick up most of my pop culture these days. These challenges were typically short choreographed dance routines to a popular piece of music (although quite often the piece of music would become popular because of the tik tok routine), and so began my brief obsession with young folk dancing to “My hips don’t lie” while going down escalators in shopping malls (check it out). All too quickly, I found myself down the rabbit-hole of YouTube compilations of the best tik tok dance routines of 2020 parts 1 through 10. Then I began to wonder how to turn this craze that appeared to be sweeping the youngsters of the planet to my own benefit?

I have always loved to dance, I remember fondly my days on the dance-floors of my youth, Peg Woffingtons, Hollywood Nights and Club USI seems to stand out, but there were so many other places where I would get caught up by the late night flow of a thumping base-beat. Happy as Larry, I’d flail my arms around, bite my lower lip and try to keep my legs going in time to the rhythm of Children by Robert Miles or some other Euro-dance classic. Happily I seem to have passed this affinity for dance to my kids because when I floated the idea of synchronised tik tok dancing, they didn’t give me their usual response to my suggestions i.e. a gasp of exasperation, eyes to heaven and bodies thrown to the floor as if they have been shot (can be used on their own or more commonly, as combinations of two or all three elements). Choosing a tik tok routine is fraught with danger, they come in all shapes and sizes and can vary from the very basic to the extremely complicated (not quite sure if the boys can handle a back flip to splits just yet). There is also the added danger that a number of them have content which could not be considered “child appropriate”. Bearing this in mind I put together a medley of “Blinding Lights”, “Say So (clean version)” and “Toosie Slide (also clean version)”. To be honest, it was Say So that got the kids hooked on it, in particular the line which allowed them to throw fake punches at or near their brothers!

The training was a slow process, I began to see myself as that dance teacher from “Fame”, the one who says that you have to pay for fame with sweat! The boys quickly told me to put my dance stick away! After repeated viewings of the routines and the multiple variants on YouTube, we learned that perfection was never going to be achievable and that putting an individual spin on things was vital. Importantly for yours truly the constant working and re-working of the routines kept the boys busy yet physically active at the same time! I hope you enjoy the fruits of our labours and hopefully it will display correctly!

So apart from endlessly practicing dance routines we have also had some other significant changes to our daily routine. Gone from our lives are the usual maddening rush of the school run and the multiple drops to after-school activities. Instead our days are measured by Joe Wicks’ PE routines and the arrival of the post man usually around 11am and the DHL guy usually around noon. Every day we hope that there is something new and exciting for us but we are nearly always disappointed when it is another package for mommy! More recently our exasperation has grown as we are awaiting series 5 of Survivor in dvd format. These dvds are only available for shipment from the US and seem to have fallen foul of restrictions around Covid-19 so can take months to reach our shores. We started to watch Survivor pre-lockdown as I bought myself season 1 as a Christmas present for myself. I had never seen the original “you’ve been voted off the island” series and given that it was something involving a screen, my boys were drawn to it. They quickly became engrossed, they were impressed by the regular back-stabbing and in particular the highly competitive elimination challenges. This definitely appeals to their sense of sibling rivalry and I think that each one secretly hopes that one day they will have the opportunity to vote one of their brothers out of the family! The only problem with watching dvds of Survivor is that the ultimate winner is always placed front and centre on the dvd box cover, based on the assumption that everybody had watched it already back in 2005! This does tend to take away some of the suspense as good old Jeff reads out the results of the elimination votes, particularly from the later episodes. This time round I’ve promised to intercept the box and hide it away before the boys can see it so they can have a genuine first-time watcher experience!

Posted on in Uncategorized

Tales from Lockdown Life Part 2

As you will have gathered from last week’s blog, I am constantly on the lookout for ways to keep my four kids occupied during lockdown life. Those of you who know me will also be aware that I have a certain penchant for table quizzes which I appear to have passed on to my kids, genetics eh! So you can imagine my delight when Kahoot was introduced to our lives. I mean it’s a “make your own quiz” site (apparently it can do other things related to so-called “learning technology” but that is definitely not relevant here), where you can either act as a contestant or a quiz-master. As a quiz-master you get to set your own questions and then provide 3 to 4 possible answers (obviously including the correct one as an option). In the past, I was never a fan of multiple choice questions as it tended to introduce some randomness into the purity of table quizzing (even if you hadn’t the foggiest idea where the Battle of Trafalgar took place, you had a 25% chance of getting it right, off the coast of Spain near Cadiz by the way) but given the option of coming up with witty incorrect answers it suddenly becomes a lot more fun e.g. where did mommy live before she met Daddy? (a) Heartache Hill, (b) Despair Drive, (c) Love Lane, (d) Grumpy Grove! I’d have loved the answer to be (d) but it was in fact (c). While I have learned to tolerate multiple choice questions, I have drawn the line at the option of True or False which I regard as the true nadir of table quizzes, something my fellow housemates / family should take note of (you know who you are). You can also allocate the amount of points which are available for each question so I like to finish off all my quizzes with a double points “daddy round” which usually covers my favourite topics of Liverpool FC, Dublin GAA and computer games! Unsurprisingly Niki (my wife) normally comes last in these rounds!! Once you have formulated your questions, you send a code to your participants who then get to answer on their mobile devices in real time, the quicker you answer, the more points you get. The advent of Kahoot has led to some epic battles in the Doyle household and for a moment it overtook the PlayStation as the boys favourite form of evening entertainment and that is saying something. Needless to say I am undefeated as a contestant and as a quiz master I am now working on a 100 question mega quiz for when the weather actually remembers that this is Ireland and not St Tropez!

On Saturday myself and my wife celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary. Well I certainly celebrated that Niki has been able to put up with me and my foibles for that length of time. Given the current circumstances we were a bit stumped when it came to options for marking the occasion. Last year we took a trip to Paris and strolled around Le Marais but malheureusement that clearly wasn’t going to happen this time round. Instead we decided to go for the slightly less exotic option of a takeaway from Kinara, one of our favourite restaurants and a consistent source of lovely date nights. Now normally the takeaway routine involves the retrieval of the food and a return home to consume it, but we have found that with certain youngsters around the place it is very difficult to have a quiet and calm time while eating your Tikka Masala or whatever. So this time we tried a different approach, thankfully we had auntie / saint Orla ready as babysitter, which allowed myself and Niki to actually got dressed up for a night out, I even shaved for the occasion, a definite rarity in lockdown! We packed our plates and cutlery and headed for Clontarf (where Kinara is located). Once we had picked up our food from Kinara’s highly efficient collection system we were then faced with the quandary of where we were going to eat it. We had harboured (excuse the pun) ambitions of eating by the Clontarf seafront wall but the continuous drizzle and gale force winds put an end to that idea so we found a “public” car park near Clontarf yacht club with nice sea facing views and opened up our tasty grub. Well I had thought it was a public car park but only later realised it was the Dublin Bus overflow car park for the Clontarf depot. This became quite evident when a double decker bus pulled up alongside and loomed over us as we chewed through our nan bread! Not quite the ambiance of the Place des Vosges but hey we managed to swallow it down without getting any sauce on our clothes or on the interior of the car which was a win as far as I’m concerned! For dessert Niki decided that she had a sudden yearning for a sundae from McDonalds so we drove to nearby Artane Castle (one of the 6 McDonalds back in operation as a drive-thru) and were laughed at by the voice taking our order as the sundae had been discontinued back in 2018! We take it as a badge of pride that we did not know this!! Oh well, a McFlurry will have to do then! We returned home about 90 minutes after we had left (there is only so much driving up and down Griffith Avenue you can do, but with the added bonus that St. Orla had put the kids to bed so we avoided the usual pandemonium associated with bedtime chez nous. For that alone our anniversary was regarded as a huge success and will be remembered fondly for years to come!

Posted on in Uncategorized

Tales from Lockdown Life

Well it’s been a while since my last blog in early 2020 and boy has the world changed in the meantime. The advent of Covid-19 has turned everything on its head, in particular, gone are the leisurely brunches with my 3 year old daughter Ella. Trips to the wonderful eateries and cafes in Glasnevin, Drumcondra and Phibsboro are a thing of the past replaced by, jigsaws, online quizzes and copious amounts of baked goods produced by my lovely wife. Now don’t get me wrong, the cakes, scones and sour dough bread are all delicious and I have consumed significant quantities, but perhaps the fact that I am now always surrounded by young children fighting for a place at the baking trough rather than enjoying it all served with a side of clotted cream has slightly tainted the overall experience!

So apart from sour dough struggles, what has life during lockdown been like at home with 4 children of 10 and under? Before I start listing off my perceived gripes I would have to acknowledge that as a family we have come from the envious position of one full-time stay-at-home parent (me) before this whole thing started. Crucially this meant that I was already well accustomed to the level of schoolwork that each of the boys were being assigned and most importantly had also familiarised myself with the diverse (and often exasperating) food requirements of the kids. These range from Aaron who is 10 and an average eater (in fairness to him, probably a better eater than I was at his age in that he tolerates healthy foodstuffs such as onions, tomatoes and garlic), Lochlan (8) and slightly picky but will probably make a good attempt at his meal if he can cover it with grated mozzarella, this does not just include typical Italian dishes where mozzarella would seem to be a natural accompaniment but also includes curries! Then we get onto the tricky ones, Oscar (7) who protests vehemently if anything which isn’t beige or white is placed in front of him and Ella (3) who is petite so doesn’t eat significant amounts of anything. Forewarned is forearmed, I can only imagine what it would be like if I was dealing with this afresh.

In general if there was one word I could use to describe life during lockdown it would be “manic”. There is always somebody requiring something to be done urgently, whether it be logging on to the latest app to find out what task / project / activity / experiment / “pain in the ass” learning opportunity has been allocated to one of my boys, or tidying up after another spillage of milk / juice /  or bringing Ella to the toilet – an activity that seems to have increased exponentially since her mother has started working from home. I think this is because she believes that by wearing me down by infinite trips to the loo I will eventually have to reach out to my better half and then Ella will get to spend more time with her mommy! A large part of the day is taken up helping the boys with their schoolwork and for this, access to online content is both a blessing and a curse. Each of my sons has access to multiple apps and / or websites for learning, these can be either general in nature such as for allocating and correcting homework or topic specific  typically English, Irish, Maths. Each of these has their own specific password with password retrieval now requiring a database system which would make the pentagon proud. Ever since I watched that tv programme about hacking, Mr Robot, I have become increasingly paranoid about passwords and their storage but there are only so many tattoos that a man can put on his body particular when I’m doing it myself!!

Once the passwords have been retrieved, there is generally a time period of quietness until it becomes time to correct and then upload the various pieces of schoolwork. I’m always in a quandary about how much correction I should do, I mean how many mistakes can you leave in your son’s work before it becomes damaging to your own sense of intelligence. It is at this time that I realise that I see my children as an extension of myself and therefore anything that gets sent out from our house is an indication of both my ability to teach and probably more importantly the quality of my DNA! Am I making this too much about me, should Aaron’s project include an extra slide on The Renaissance, should Lochlan’s creative writing provide a more detailed description of the African savanna, should Oscar re-record his reading 5 times so that he gets his intonation correct or the background noise isn’t quite up to standard? Most importantly by the time this is all done will all our devices have run out of battery or will the wi-fi be strong enough?

Amidst the mayhem I must admit that one of the benefits of the lockdown is that I have rediscovered my love for jigsaws (strictly in the 500 to 1000 pieces range before you start thinking I’m a 5000 piece lunatic). It is definitely a pastime that is ideally suited to lockdown life, requiring minimum space combined with the ability to occupy significant quantum of minutes if not hours. Not everything has gone smoothly though, originally I had high hopes that I would be able to pass on my affection for all things jigsaw-ish to my own children just as my mother had passed it on to me. Unfortunately as part of the “snowflake” generation they do not seem to share my ability to work through 100 pieces of blue sky over a Venetian canal in a methodical and forensic fashion! However when it comes to completing the last 10 or 20 pieces for the glory of placing the final piece then the boys descend like a pack of vultures or even worse they’ll sneak into the jigsaw room while I am otherwise occupied and finish the bloody thing off without me. I can’t believe that I have raised a bunch of traitors, time to put the parental lock on the PS4 again!

Posted on in christmas, parenting

A Good Christmas but watch out for the Grinch!

Just like that, the Christmas holidays have come to an end. Looking back on it, there have been many highlights offset only by the odd bit of familial tension, mainly relating to a couple of disagreements which resulted in yours truly being left behind by the Doyle-mobile (once voluntary and once enforced). But my passenger seat privileges have since been reinstated so all is well that ends well.

The Christmas period began with a trip to the Bord Gais Energy Theatre for a performance of The Snowman complete with accompanying orchestra. This gave us our first indication of how this Christmas was going to be an absolute joy for our two year old Ella. She was thrilled by the dancers, the singers and particularly, the comedy routine which involved Santa inadvertently taking the MC’s bike. She still talks about it a full month later.

We always aim to include one Santa trip in the Christmas programme so choosing which Santa to visit is always a great source of discussion and debate. This year we went with Luggwoods which can be found in the Dublin hills just beyond Saggart. Our kids range from the aforementioned Ella to Aaron, who is well into his eleventh year so we may struggle to get another year out of these Santa trips without grumbling, petulance, tantrums and the other phenomena which usually accompany any family journeys. So there were plenty of fingers being crossed as we headed out the door. The day started well enough in that it wasn’t raining and the temperature could have been described as crisp but not quite cold enough to be uncomfortable. After our elfin check-in we had a brief wait before being herded onto a large converted trailer (think old style school bus without an engine) which was pulled by a pretty sizeable tractor. Once we were all comfortable we headed off towards an enchanted forest. All going well so far as we passed the fairy village, the reindeer house and the elves’ washing line but uh-oh here comes the Grinch. Cue somebody in a green mask shaking his fist at the passing traffic and Ella almost losing her life. Now there has been a long history amongst our kids of being afraid of people dressed up in costumes. I can still vividly remember Lochlan having conniptions when a man dressed up as a teddy bear (while collecting for charity) approached him in Blanchardstown shopping centre. The tightness of the hugs I received that day have yet to be surpassed! From recollection, Disneyland Paris was also a bit traumatic but at least they had the rides and the endless merchandise shops to take their minds off the demons in fur!

Having calmed Ella down from the Grinch encounter we had a very pleasant time at our destination, a sort of Santa’s grotto / barn and we even managed to get a group photo with Ella on Santa’s lap (see above) which I had believed to be beyond the bounds of the possibilities a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately there was a dark cloud hanging over us during this joyful time. We all knew that the only way back to our car was via the enchanted forest and the lair of the Grinch. Although this time we were more prepared for the trailer / bus / tractor ride, we positioned ourselves in a circle around Ella and assured her that the Grinch would not be getting on the vehicle and if he did Daddy would just flatten him with his ever widening Christmas girth (the start of 2020 is not going to be fun for yours truly). Thankfully the Grinch seemed a whole lot happier the second time around, his medications were probably working a lot better and in any event, Ella had burrowed deep under her mommy’s coat. So Luggwoods got the thumbs up from us, until Niki hears about somewhere better to go next year.

After that, it was back to the usual mix of trying to meet up with friends and family while providing enough entertainment for the boys so that they wouldn’t start attacking each other. Star Wars was decent although I’m a bit confused on what the rules are around reincarnation, resurrection, glowing and not glowing during the whole death process as it seems to change depending on the movie and indeed the character. Jumanji the Next Level was enjoyable, particularly the bit where they explain what a eunoch is, that’s one less awkward future conversation with the boys (please see the movie for context!).

Myself and Niki did manage to get a night away by ourselves during the madness as we manufactured a trip to Seafield Hotel in Gorey, a return to our wedding venue. It was only for one night so upon our arrival we quickly made our way down to the pool and spa area. It must be said that the Seafield pool and spa area harks back to a previous Irish era with plenty of black and gold on display. The place was packed and clearly full of people who take swimming pools a lot less seriously than Niki or me. She was the only one wearing a swim hit and I was the only one wearing goggles! Although the fact that my goggles were tinted meant that I came very close to banging my head into the end of the black-tiled pool on numerous occasions! So my goal of powering through 20 or so lengths was quickly abandoned. It was our first time away together from all four of the kids (big shout out to Nanny, Grandad and Aunty Orla) and I couldn’t get over the quiet. We could have conversations without the constant interruptions and we even got to read books together at the same time. Such is middle-aged bliss!

 

Posted on in travel

Essential Tips for the Business Traveller

It’s been over a year since I last earned a wage and started my new career as a stay at home dad. For reasons which I have detailed in previous blog posts, this transition has been mostly a positive one but there are definitely things I do miss about my time in financial services. Right near the top of the list is the frequent trips abroad and the opportunities to “see the world” that this brought with it. You see all of the customers / companies in my portfolio were international clients, so travelling was a large part of my job. Now this had its downsides, particularly when it came to early morning flights. I could never quite warm to setting my alarm at silly AM for a 6am take-off slot, but it also meant that I got to visit some pretty wonderful places. Without my job, I would never have gotten to discover a number of wonderful European cities e.g. Milan, Stockholm and Munich (a brief stopover in the hauptbahnhof while inter-railing as a student didn’t really count) and I never would have gotten to know London as a second home. So I have put together a few essential tips for the business traveller from my journeys on behalf of the banking sector.

When in Milan:

  • Do leave yourself enough time to visit the wonderful Duomo and the various 19th century shopping arcades / galleria in the nearby vicinity. Also get a window seat on the plane as the view over the alps is quite stunning.
  • Don’t assume that the airport from which you are departing (there are two in Milan) is nearby and doesn’t require any research beforehand! €180 for a taxi fare remains my all-time record and that was after the taxi driver gave me a €5 discount as I simply didn’t have any more cash. The train service is much more reasonably priced as I subsequently learned, a fact that was repeatedly mentioned by my boss upon submitting my expense claim.

When in Munich:

  • Do remember that Oktoberfest actually starts in September and therefore it is likely to take much longer to move around the place due to the excess of lederhosen and dirndl! Do sample some of the local pretzels while sauntering around the Town Hall and Marienplatz.
  • Don’t (once your meeting is over) decide that it would be a good idea to walk from the company premises (which happen to be in a business park on the outskirts of town) all the way into the city centre as you may end up walking through a red light district (although the offers of cheap oriental massages did seem tempting at the time). I have long had the tendency to travel on foot whenever possible (well before Greta Thunberg came along) as a I have always found it is the best way to get a sense of a place and Munich seemed be all about leather, latex and the aforementioned massages! Also don’t get into the wrong section of a train that divides into two and be left helpless as you watch the carriages bound for the airport disappear over the horizon. Plane home duly missed and night spent in cheap hotel at London Heathrow instead of cosy warm own bed!

When in Stockholm:

  • Do give yourself enough time to walk around the old city city down by the harbour which is simply stunning, particularly on a warm summer day. The combination of boats and the colourful buildings is a sight to behold.
  • Don’t check-in your suit along with your baggage so that British Airways can lose it somewhere around Heathrow and you have to turn up at a very formal business presentation in polo shirt and jeans. Then as you are the only person not in a suit, the CEO making the presentation quickly spots you and suddenly you become a topic (maybe even the topic) in the company’s presentation about information retrieval! Also don’t take a mouthful of pickled herring at the lunchtime buffet no matter how hungry you are, yuk! In my defence I thought it was some sort of chicken, must have had a blocked nose!

When in Madrid:

  • Do travel on the metro which is perhaps the cleanest underground rail service I have ever encountered.
  • Don’t assume that when you ask your taxi driver to bring you to the royal palace that you will be dropped somewhere near the residence of King Felipe. It turned out he thought that we said the Palace Hotel (so much for my Inter Cert Spanish) which is about 2km away and quite a trek in the Iberian sun.

When in Paris:

  • Do simply enjoy the fact that you are in the most beautiful city in the world, even if you are dealing with the potential liquidation of a company which has been in existence since the time of Louis XIV and the unions are about to kick off about the negative impact of foreign banks in a domestic French matter!
  • Don’t assume that the train journey from Charles de Gaulle airport to the city centre will be a pleasant experience. The RER line B is many things and goodness knows the traffic around Paris’ famed ring road makes it a necessary evil, but the Heathrow Express it is not. So be prepared for being crushed against fellow travellers, buskers singing La Vie En Rose very badly and the odd pick-pocket. I have known locals to splutter in astonishment when showing my return rail ticket to the airport!

When in London:

  • Do keep moving on the multitude of escalators and travellators around the place. I often think there are two types of people in the world (i) those who walk on travellators who I consider to be normal and sane humans and (ii) those who do not, for whom I believe there is a specific circle of hell set aside. Just keep walking for goodness sake.
  • Don’t become so familiar with the rail routes in from the various airports, be it the Heathrow Express or the Docklands Light Rail, that you come to regard fellow travellers as a nuisance who are stealing your rightful seat.

So I recognise this is probably not the most exhaustive of lists but I hope it gave you a flavour of how I viewed my travels and travails around Europe. Hopefully I’ll get to view these places in a more relaxed manner in the future!

Posted on in gaa, parenting, sport

The Slippery Road To Becoming An Overly Competitive Parent

First and foremost let me make one thing clear, I know that I am a competitive person and always have been, so much so that my childhood nickname (and occasional adult one also) was “spoiler” because of my relentlessness towards every task or event which could be perceived (or even barely perceived) to have a competitive element to it. In this manner, I would wear down all and sundry and generally take the fun out of even the most trivial of pursuits, well actually in particular Trivial Pursuit, in which I remain unbeaten since before I developed the dexterity to place trickily shaped wedges in a relatively flat cylinder!

Now I’d like to think I have mellowed a bit over the years, so I have come to realise that eating my dinner at breakneck speed in order to be first, or acting like Usain Bolt to sprint to the car before everybody else, are not the most efficient uses of my energies. However there are certain occasions when my competitive streak overcomes me, in the same way that mild mannered David Banner is completely helpless to control his bouts of rage. At the lower end of the scale this can manifest itself through mutterings at the viewing area of a swimming pool while I urge one of my boys to overtake the child ahead of them as they complete another length of the local pool. Although there could be an element in this of just trying to combat mind-numbing boredom, I currently spend up to five and a half hours poolside each week so anything to liven things up is welcome. There is something surreal about watching countless youngsters attempting the breast-stroke without using their arms. Just a procession of bobbing heads in a pool.

By far the most common scene of this emergence of “competitive rage” is on the sidelines of the many fine GAA pitches on the northside of Dublin. In my mind, I am merely trying to pass down a certain level of wisdom which I have garnered over hundreds of matches, either as a participant or as a spectator, to help my offspring be the very best that they can be. Surely Aaron (10) should be informed that switching play from left to right is the best way to overcome a blanket defence in gaelic football, or that going in tight body-to-body is the best way to tackle in hurling (while also being the best way to avoid injury from a stray hurl). Well that’s what I thought until Aaron ventured over to the sideline on a cool and crisp Malahide morning and told me in quite a forthright and plain way to “shut it”. Now I was slightly taken aback by this, in my mind I was just being a supportive parent, but in hindsight I can see how the constant chatter / roaring from the sideline might become slightly irritating. So now we have an agreement that unless I am cheering on some positive play, he doesn’t want to hear my voice. I should point out there is a high level of irony here, given that the games in which my boys play are non-competitive i.e. nobody records the scorelines and there is no league at the end of it.

In fact I am always amazed at the amount of “medals” which my boys have accumulated in these non-competitive competitions. I mean the amount of single-use metal / plastic on display in their bedrooms would have Greta Thunberg on red alert in whatever bat cave she lives in. Hey I had to earn that faux-marble trophy for top player at the Dublin Millennium (1988 for those who can’t remember back that far) soft tennis tournament (Clontarf area), it wasn’t just a case of turning up! Try telling the youngsters that nowadays, “what, you actually had to win a match!”, bloody snowflakes.

So in order to find a safe release from my competitive parent syndrome I have had to turn inwards and take shelter behind the safety of the four walls I call home. Now I know the PS4 and gaming consoles of its ilk get a bad rep, but where else can a man in his mid forties compete against his children on a level playing field. You may point out that I have been playing these console type games for well over 20 years (indeed much longer if you could call the ZX Spectrum a pre-cursor for consoles) and that this gives me a slight advantage when I am zooming around some racing circuit in Japan or playing a deft one-two on the edge of the penalty box as Bohemians FC defeat Barcelona (see I am handicapping myself) once more. In my defense, I do often play collaborative games with my sons against the computer AI and will often go through detailed slow motion replays explaining where they invariably went wrong. Well they have to learn somewhere.

Those of you who are regular followers of the blog will know that last week I received a bean-to-cup coffee machine as a birthday present. Well this week Niki (who is also quite competitive by the way) struck back by purchasing a soda stream. Actually this nearly got me more excited than my own present. My childhood friend Conor had one of these amazing contraptions and it would be a veritable treat to see what wonderful concoctions we could make out of his available flavours, hmmm a lovely Canada Dry ginger ale and cherry cola melange! Niki says she bought it so she could stop buying plastic bottles of sparkling water but while the cat is away myself and Ella will be trying out some mixology!

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Posted on in birthdays, coffee, middle-age, parenting

Just Another Mid-Life Crisis

Well this week I celebrated my birthday and like so many anniversaries of this kind in my forties, it brought on another bout of existential anxiety. This time last year I was so overcome with ennui that I decided to quit my job and become a stay-at-home dad so now, instead of getting annoyed that a Dutch frozen foods manufacturer hasn’t sent in its monthly financial accounts on time, I get annoyed that my youngest son (aged 6) can walk around oblivious to the fact that his school jumper is on inside out and back to front! Of course the year before that, I decided to get a PS4, which in my view (although not my wife’s) was an equally momentous occasion. For the latest celebration of another lap around the sun, my reaction has been more in the latter category, a nod to consumerism rather than a seismic change of lifestyle. I asked for and received, through the benevolence of she who now pays the bills, a bean to cup coffee machine! Notions I hear you say and you are probably right but isn’t that what a mid-life crisis is all about!

I think I can trace my desire for regular intakes of a superior quality coffee to the frequent trips I used to make to Coffee 2 Go on Mespil Road. Now I’m not saying that I’ll be able to match that fine establishment (that was able to withstand and see off the opening of a Starbucks a couple of doors down the road) which offered a perfect combination of scones, pastries, paninis and sandwiches along with the coffee, but at least I’ll be in the same ball park. Not that Coffee 2 Go was perfect, I mean the queuing system was quirky to say the least, as you invariably had to stand outside the building twice during every visit, first while queuing to place your order and then like some soul on his way through purgatory, journey back into the elements to join the queue for picking up the coffee, in the Irish weather this can be a challenge. But perhaps this added an extra bit of charm to a thriving independent café. But back to my own topic of the day, I had been using a Nespresso machine for just over a decade (thanks to its place on our wedding list) and while its produce was miles better than the instant Nescafe that I grew up with, it just doesn’t cut it anymore. I suppose tastes change over the course of a decade (don’t mention this to my wife), besides why should I deny myself when there are relatively cheap alternatives available. So now I can ease the pain of being in my mid-forties (and closer to 90 than my birth) with a soothing and tasty caffeine brew whenever the fancy takes me.

There are however a couple of downsides to the new machine. Firstly it is a good bit larger than the old Nespresso machine which has led to a significant debate about where it should be situated within the kitchen. I have been making the argument that with a bit of re-arranging and a slight adjustment of the toaster, it can fit neatly in beside the sink and the kettle (seems logical to me). However this suggestion has not gone down well and there has been significant push-back for a number of reasons, the main one seems to be the potential that our toaster could now become a fire hazard! I’m not sure if this is because the toaster could now become so jealous as it is no longer the shiniest thing in the kitchen that it may self-combust or if there is some other more scientific explanation. Anyway my new toy / baby / coffee machine is facing potential banishment to the utility room, i.e. the room where we put the dirty nappies before onward transport to outside bins. No facilitator of Nicaragua’s / Colombia’s / Kenya’s finest deserves that! Secondly it is very loud, which sends Ella (2) running for cover whenever I turn the thing on. Now I find the whirring of the motor quite satisfying when it is grinding the coffee and I can tolerate the sound of the water being heated and pressurised but I am on Ella’s side when it comes to the milk frother which has a high pitched whine like one thousand mosquitoes coming for blood. But I guess like all things in life you must take the rough with the smooth.

Of course now that I have a bean to cup machine I need to purchase some roasted coffee beans. I could just head for the coffee aisle in the nearest supermarket but I feel that if I am to follow through on my “notions” this doesn’t cut the mustard or should I say the smashed avocado! So independent coffee roasters of Dublin watch out, my cute daughter and I will be paying you a visit soon to sample some of your fare.

Of course hitting my mid-forties means that I am likely to be more prone to senior moments. Sure enough I was reminded of this on Wednesday morning when our merry band was scooting through the early morning puddles towards school, think of an antarctic explorer driving a pack of huskies across some snowy wastelands and you roughly get the picture. Our march forwards was halted when Lochlan (8) realised that he didn’t have his school-bag on his back, a fairly standard piece of equipment I’m sure you’ll agree. Now I know I could say that Lochlan is old enough to know better and indeed he did get a blast of my displeasure, but really the blame for this one lands squarely with yours truly. Let’s hope that this doesn’t become a recurring event, at least not after I’ve had my second cup of coffee of the day!

Posted on in books, dublin, parenting

In Praise of Libraries

One of the things I have been able to do over the past year is reacquaint myself with the Dublin library system. The reason for this is twofold. Firstly I have regained my passion for reading. My job used to involve a lot of heavy reading, whether it was a due diligence report on the intricacies of the German sausage market or a multi-currency cross border loan agreement, after a day of that, the last thing I wanted to do (or was physical capable of doing) was read a book in the evening. Secondly, there is a library right across the road from the boys’ school in Drumcondra which means I have superb ease of access.

Now my previous encounters with libraries date back to my own childhood, when the most pressing thing on my mind was whether there would be any new Asterix books in the fairly small kids’ section of Raheny library. Come to think of it, why did I have to trek all the way to Raheny from my home in Clontarf to visit my nearest library? Surely Clontarf should have had a library, god knows we have enough “litterati” to justify one. And the home of Brahm Stoker deserves a library (yes I know there is one in Marino), has anybody been in contact with Joe Duffy about this?! Anyway I digress, back to my main topic of libraries. Raheny library was fine at the time but I always recall that the books seemed old and beaten down by time and circumstances, well it was Dublin in the 80s after-all.

Fast forward to the present day and I have been blown away by how good the service is. First of all I think that the Drumcondra library building itself is quite beautiful in the art deco style of the 1930s (see above). So much so that I have tried to get it featured on the Accidentally Wes Anderson web-site http://www.accidentallywesanderson.com which features buildings that look like they are from a Wes Anderson movie set (Grand Budapest Hotel, Royal Tenenbaums, etc) but so far to no avail. Secondly not only does the selection of books on show include all the usual classics e.g. Jane Eyre, Oliver Twist, A Tale of Two Cities but it also has a very sizeable selection of modern fiction, young adult fiction and the kids’ section is really excellent and all sections are constantly renewed. There is also a truly excellent app where you can renew your books with the touch of a button and most importantly, reserve books which take your fancy. The system is pretty foolproof, although I did manage to reserve the audio-book of Joseph O’Connor’s Shadowplay instead of the actual book, so I managed to bring home a whopping 10 audio CDs.  This caused a number of problems, not least where to find a working CD player in our house and also how to find the c. 10 hours required to listen to the bloody thing. Suffice to say that I couldn’t tell you a lot about the plot, a bit like the time I tried to read Ulysses, in both cases all I can say is that I definitely finished them! On the app you can also track where you are in the queue on a real time basis which adds a small level of excitement to the process.

The library also has the advantage of being almost exactly half way between the boys’ school and the nearby playground, which means it frequently acts as both a convenient shelter from the unpredictable Irish weather and a toilet stop for unpredictable young bladders. The library has embraced this wholeheartedly and has recently replenished their stash of crayons for the young at heart. My gang instinctively turns right on entering to grab a blank picture of flowers, or stars, or unicorns, or whatever came out of the photocopier that morning and start to colour like little Rembrandts or Picassos (actually probably a lot more like Picassos). Ella (2) particularly enjoys this aspect of the library, that and playing hide and seek which she has become particularly adept at. She pretty much always knows to find me at the Food section leafing though Joe Wickes’ selection of quick and lean recipe books in a forlorn manner. I did actually borrow one when I was going through my experimenting with food phase but the boys were having none of his healthy, green, chunky ideas!

So if you haven’t been down to your local library in the last 30 years or so, I recommend you give it a try. To finish things off I thought I’d give you my top three books from the past 12 months.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. The Pulitzer Prize-winning story of Theo who as a boy loses his mother in an explosion at an art museum, but gains a priceless painting. The painting acts as an anchor for Theo as his life spirals through New York, Las Vegas and Amsterdam. A beautifully written exploration of loss and hope. Not sure I can bring myself to watch the film version though, it cannot improve things.

All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. Another novel which won the Pulitzer Prize. This one charts the lives of a blind french girl and a mathematically gifted German boy as they journey towards one shared crucial moment in St Malo, Brittany after the Allies have landed at the end of World War II. One of the few books that has moved me to tears in both its forensic detail of the barbarism of war and the simple beauty of perseverance. Netflix have the rights and are going to turn it into a mini-series which at least has greater scope for exploration than a 2 hour movie.

Solar Bones by Mike McCormack. This is probably my favourite book of all time, a title which was held for a long time by The Lord of the Rings (I still love you Frodo). A stream of consciousness tale (it is a single sentence) told from the point of view of middle-aged Mayo man and civil engineer Marcus on 2 November 2008. This book made me feel like I had been dropped in a vat of real “Irishness” and connected with me on many levels as a father, son and brother. It took a while to get into it but well worth the effort.

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Posted on in fashion, music, parenting

In The Comfort Zone

I can’t believe it has been a year since I took the momentous decision to leave my nine to five (more often six and quite often seven) to focus on the kids. Now that the September (or rather late August) return to school has been successfully negotiated, I have had some time to ponder what effect this change in tack has had on myself and those around me.

The first thing I have noticed about myself is that my tendency to turn towards, let’s call it indulgent (others may call it slob-like) behaviour is strong. I mean how could I have forgotten that tracksuit bottoms were so pleasant on the skin and that elasticated waistbands are so forgiving. These last 12 months have brought me back to a phase in my early teens when I totally rebelled against denim for some reason which seems hard to place now. My early morning decisions have gone from blue or white shirt to black or navy tracksuit and I don’t mean any of those lycra based efforts either, it has to be some form of natural fabric and preferably with a hood, yes I know that “convention” has it that I’m too old for a hoodie but begrudgers be damned, if I want to look like a hooligan out for a morning stroll, well that’s my prerogative. Although in my defense I haven’t gone full northsider and started doing the school run in my pyjamas or even gone full Homer and tried a mumu (not yet anyway). Shaving has become optional and at 7am in the morning with four kids running around me, the option is pretty much always no. Although in an effort to demonstrate to everyone that I haven’t gotten any hipster notions, I do tend to set aside five minutes of mid-morning shaving two or three times a week.

The ease of access to media is a constant temptation. I mean if I’m doing the ironing or folding clothes or preparing food, I might as well do it in front of the television, sure what harm am I doing (as he nearly chops off his finger while watching the second Ashes test match and dicing some carrots). I have also over indulged myself and probably traumatised my children in the process, with my dictator like control of music during the past year. The advent of wifi and the emergence of music streaming has given me so much greater access to so many more banging tunes than I could have dreamt of in my formative music loving years (teens and 20s). And in all honesty, who does not love 90’s dance classics being played 24/7 at high volume. When Ella (2) can pretty much recite the chorus of Mr Vain verbatim I know that I may have overdone it “I know what I want and I want it now!”.

I have definitely become more shouty than when I was in Bank of Ireland (open plan and loud voices were never a good match). For some reason, it seems that unless the decibel level has been increased to above 100 the boys will simply ignore what I am saying, they also seem to have developed a system where my first two requests are deemed irrelevant (like that character in the Austin Powers movie). I find that this means I have become completely immune to the effect that high volumes have on third parties around me. Quite frequently I will find myself shouting at the top of my voice “Oscar (6) be careful on that climbing frame” from 20 yards away while the whole playground turns to stare it me. Oscar will of course ignore me as he knows my powers of parenting are severely weakened when I am out in the open, but other kids generally seem to act with less abandon around me! At least I think that’s why the other parents tolerate me.

Being in control of my own food intake means that I have been able to further explore my affinity for savoury pancakes. I’m not sure exactly where this fondness began but I think it can probably be traced back to a Bank of Ireland “Enterprise week” which saw an actual farmer’s market set up outside the old head office on Baggot Street. One of the many stalls on offer was an artisan creperie which provided pancakes with ham, cheese, rocket and red pesto. Well I was hooked and now I am a regular at Drumcondra’s finest creperie, Le Petit Breton (the owner hails from Brest). Myself and Ella are always welcomed with a broad smile and while I have yet to convert her to the savoury pancake (she prefers a croissant with jam), I know that the seeds have been sown.

Not that I have constrained myself to pancake-only based fodder, I have learnt that Glasnevin, Drumcondra, Finglas, Santry and Phibsboro have many delightful places to spend time with my little lady. And that brings me to my favourite indulgence, spending time with Ella. Maybe it’s her age, maybe it’s because she is a girl or maybe it’s because I was working while the other three were in their pre-school phase, but I have to say that any moment spent with her has been the most rewarding part of the last year. So perhaps I’ll walk a bit slower on the way home so that we can chat about the ducks in the park or I’ll take a bit longer in the treat aisle of the shop so that she can tell me which are her favourites or perhaps I’ll read her another story when I know that the hoovering needs to be done (sorry Niki). The terrible twos are supposed to be hitting about now but so far we seem to have avoided it. The highlight of the week is invariably water babies class on a Friday where I get to splash / swim / play with Ella for half an hour in a lovely heated pool. This week after another excellent session I told her “Ella I love swimming with you” to which she responded “I love swimming with you Daddy”, I will forever be wrapped around her little finger!