Gerry Floyd

I know nothing about Economics or Banks or Fisticuffs Treaties so I am as well qualified to write on the matter as that crowd on the telly and in Leinster House.
Most of the problems were caused by Light Touch Regulation. LTR is where the Bankers tell the Government,Regulator and the Central Bank that they don't need RULES that they are Men of Principle and know how to do the right thing. The Government agrees, shure did we not all go to the same schools, as do our kids, played Rugby and are members of the same Golf Clubs.
However when greed knocks on the door, principles go out the window.Yeats mentioned it when writing about greasy tills.
The Bankers borrowed, builders build, we were advised by The Men of Principle to buy,buy, buy, so we borrowed,borrowed until we burrowed ourselves in, up to the neck.

The day after St.Patricks Day out of bed at 4.00am then back to bed. Its been a long day drowning the shamrock with Coca-Cola and tea so I have been leaping out of the leaba every hour on the hour.An bhuil cead agam dul amach as we used to say in the days when we had no ass in our trousers, shoes on our feet or a hen in our pockets. Oh how we yearned for the good old days, well they is a commin back.
Anywho following lunch in Foleys, Shepherds Pie for myself, beef for the wife, she likes a nice bit of beef and the only place she tell me she is getting a decent bit is in Foleys, home, armchair, paper unread on the floor, and a visit to the land of Nod.
Just as I arrive at the border post the house begins to shake, plates rattle, pictures shake and the Waterford glass shatters. An earthquake, the Rapture, the Trioka have given up and decided to bulldoze the country into the sea. No much worst Charity Fun Runners pounding the footpaths and roads of Mell, smashing our footpaths and delaying traffic racing towards the M1,
No charity about my plates,pictures, Waterford glass or my loss of 40 to 140 winks. Charity begins at home so next year stay at home or go up to Ballsgrove and disturb Jim Brady.
Speaking of Jim and his call over the centuries for City status, the Borough Council has declared us a City. Well they can put on high-heels a long sparkling frock, lipstick and call themselves Gloria or Shirley for all the differance it makes. If I told you that I am 6ft 6inches,build like a brick outhouse and my name is Bond, James Bond, you would send for the men in white coats.
Under the Law you can call yourself whatever you like, our Mayor, a Barrister, you know chaps who wear gowns and wigs, can correct me but
as long as you are not doing so for illicit purposes. Telling a load of Yanks that Drogheda City is open for business, Whoa there Gerry thats Fair St. thinking or Crowe St. even. So less said the better
So tweeting is not allowed at Council Meetings, hurrah I say, Tweeting twits only encourages them. Colr.A is scratching his nose, Colr. B is scratching his ass, his own ass not Colr.A's ass, we know they scratch each others backs. Tweeting is like peeping through someones window or keyhole, you see a bit at a time but lose the whole picture. Anyhow the Gardai have spoken to me about peeping. Tweeting is a trailer for a film,it looks good, but it is not the full picture. Tell me in 150 letters what the Wizard of Oz is about. The Godfather is about gangsters, the Bible is about God, no they are not they are about so much more. Tweets are headlines not the full story, Tweets are lazy, tweets are playing football on a computor, its not football its sitting on your arse pressing buttons.
That's enough ranting for today, Fun Run, tweet it next year.

Women are revolting, correction Political Wimmin are revolting. Is it not enough that we have not only allowed them the vote and property rights, but they can stand for and get elected to Local Authorities and the Dail, three terms of women Presidents. A right by virtue of their gender to a seat on Public Bodies.
Those writers of romantic novels who describe them as "The Fair Sex" are either gay or single.Before time immemorial, 6th July 1189, following a battle the women of the Celtic,Gallic and Germanic tribes moved in to see off the wounded and collect souvenirs and I don't mean keyrings.
Now the wimmin want a law enacted so that Parties must have a quota of at least 50% female candidates. Do we not have enough useless males that we now must give preferance to some useless women. The idea was that in Political Parties the cream locally would come to the top,unfortunaly cream is not the only thing that floats.
While cleaning out the attic recently I came across some ancient Greek parchments. My ancient Greek is a bit rusty since I moved to the Far Side and to the left so I consulted an ancient citizen of Kos to help with the translation.
It was a play by ARISTOPHANES called The Womens Assembly, written about 2500 years ago.
It starts of very early in the morning, in the shadows shapes carrying bundles of clothes are moving. Women with their husbands cloaks and tunics. They dress in the mens clothes and put on false beards. They head down to the Assembly where the Laws governing Athens are made. Every male citizen has a right to propose a law and if passed that law is enacted. Praxagora is the leader of this mob.
They propose that power in the city is handed over to the women of the city.
Running a city/country is like running a household, men keep fiddling about with things that work whereas women recognise a good thing when they see it.

She goes on,"They bake bread, cook meals, annoy their husbands, hide their lovers under their husbands noses as they have always done, they buy presents for themselves, drink wine, go to the hairdressers, enjoy the bold thing, as they have always done, without their husbands being aware. It is a waste of time discussing these things because women will get their way in the end. Women are better at raising and keeping money and will not be taken in by trickery because they already know all the tricks".
All the wealth of the city to be shared, no man to be allowed money. All the women of the city to be available to every man, for the bold thing, but if a man wishes to be naughty with Cinderella he must first visit one of her sisters, mother or granny.The Law demanded that if a young loved up man was courting a young wan any auld wan could demand his services first.
It goes on a bit about the boldness in the world but the Law is passed and women seize control.
Ironic as it is women were not allowed act, on stage, so we had men playing women playing men.Women in politics are often worst than men when it comes to being macho.
Maybe we should allow women to rule, openly. We may have a Referendum on the issue soon but before you vote look at her granny.

Lions led by donkeys was a term used to describe the ordinary soldiers in the First World War and the term could be used today to describe the people at the Save the Cottage rally.
 Some years ago I said a quite prayer for the thousands of Irishmen who died  on the killing field that was Gallipoli,wave upon wave of men sent to die by idiotic leaders who cared nothing of their men.
The people who have relatives in the Cottage care about them, should it close where do they go, they are concerned about their level of care, dignity, visiting and much more, I have been there in the recent past.
Have we chosen the right battleground, is the battle about the Cottage or is it about the residents. My opinion is that sooner or later the Cottage must close, it is past its sell by date. The battle is about securing an alternative hospital or an extension to St,Marys on the Dublin Road. A proper custom built facility.
The Cottage is bricks and mortar, people may have a sentimental attachment to it but it is the patients who are important. Sure lets hold on to it until we have an alternative in the town then let it go. Utilize it until then. In the future it could become a medical facility of a different sort.
I have read the petition that some of our local T.Ds were asked to sign and I agree with their stance. When you paint a floor you paint towards the exit not a corner. This idiotic petition is much the same,burning bridges before we get to them. A position with no means to create dialogue, no way out.
While many on the Committee are decent people who care about the residents I fear that there are the usual suspects, the bandwagon jumpers and the usual noisy braying asses who follow in their wake.Grand let the T.D. for Dundalk mouth and spout, ignoring the fact that his party are in power in his homeland and are cutting willy-nilly. But stop the men elected by the people of Drogheda who will be doing their best to solve the problem. Deputy Nash and Minister O'Dowd will sort this by dialogue with the Minister. Politics is about solutions not like many on the platform shouting slogans.
If, as has been alleged a person, T.D. or not, was assaulted for declining to sign a petition then that perpetrator should issue a public apology, no excuses. A straight," I am sorry for behaving like a thug" no more no less. This is a Democracy  we don't need or want this sort of behavior. If it was a committee member, resign now. The actions of others in preventing ELECTED REPRESENTATIVES speaking is disgraceful but does not surprise me.
I would suggest that the real stakeholders in the Cottage, residents, relatives, medical staff, care workers form their own committee, dump the rabble-rousers, and work with their T.Ds. and the Minister.Don't let these empty can bandwagon jumpers lead like the donkeys in Gallipoli, from the back.
Their campaign is about Power not People.

The boat docked in Holyhead  and the hundreds of passengers prepared to set foot on, what to them, was foreign soil. They carried their worldly goods under their arms, some wrapped in newspapers,papers from Galway,Mayo,the Midlands, some in brown paper,all tied with string.
Sèan Floyd carried a small cardboard suitcase.
He was brought up in a close and loving family,one of seven children born to Michael and Alice Floyd.This close family background was to be the foundation for his beliefs and principles in life.        He had left the Woodmill that morning in 1951 for what was originally planned as a 6 month spell to gain employment,but after meeting Kitty at a dance in Chester he decided to stay a little longer.They married in 1955 where they raised their family.
Sèan a life long member of the Pioneer Association had 3 key focuses in his life, his core Religious beliefs, his football and his family. He was an active member of the Catholic Community in Chester.
While he enjoyed all sports, being a season ticket holder at Chester City FC attending home and away games with friends Steve and Sylvia his passion was Gaelic football.
He joined the John Mitchels GAA club based in Liverpool, the oldest GAA club in the UK and outside Ireland,dating back to 1904.
Traveling to Liverpool on a weekly basis Sèan quickly established himself in the team and went on to represent Lancastershire at Senior Level. He won 15 medals with the Mitchels. He played with them for over 40 years and was rumoured to have turned out in his 60s when the team was short, provided no one told Kitty. Through his involvement with the GAA and the Community Sèan and Kitty established close and life-long friendships with the Regan and Harrington families. The casket was draped in the colours of the Mitchels and the large attendance testimony to his popularity and standing in the community. Through football and the Irish Centre in Liverpool he struck up life long friendships with Chris Johnson and Tommy Walsh.
Sèan and John Harrington made the annual pilgrimage to Croke Park for the All Ireland Football Final. They did this for over 50 years.
Sèan had an allotment in Hoole which he tended with loving care from which he provided his family,friends and neighbours with fresh organic vegetables.
He was employed for most of his working life  with Alfred McAlpine Construction on building projects in the North West of England and North Wales. He was seen as a quite, tough, but fair foreman. Sèan was a devoted family man, husband to Kitty, father to Rosemary and Sean,father-in-law to Collette, grandfather to Luke,Francesca and Nathan. Brother to Peggy, Pascal and Ronnie and the late,Joe, Louie,Gerry.
He knew his responsibilities and carried them out in a quite, unassuming way, he could be relied upon to do and say the right things, he understood the value of relationships and people over material possessions.
      AR DHEIS DÈ GO BHUIL A ANAM

Even the heavens know that I am not one to complain, live and let live I say. However there comes a time in the affairs of Man where even the shyest of us must speak out.
Take the Boyne Cable Bridge or the Toll Bridge to give it its proper name. Some Dundalk Senator wants to rename it after former President McAleese, are there no bridges in Dundalk that you want to hi-jack the Toll Bridge. Fair do she did a good job for which she got well paid, plus bed and board, free electricity, car, travel and has retired on a good pension while the husband gets a cushy seat in the Seanad, money for nothing plus expenses and 23,000Euro leaders allowance. Leaders Allowance paid to every Independent T.D. and Senator. Leading us round by the nose.
Talking about leading us up a hill and down again I see the usual suspects are on their orange boxes shouting and blowing hot air about the Household Charge. Same squeaking gates as were out spouting nonsense during the Great Bin Charges War.
We know the countries in Dire Straits, we have money for nuttin. We did not cause the financial meltdown, but we can whinge and bitch all we like we are the only ones who can clean up the mess. The time has come to put up and shut up.
Some Sinn Fein Councillor is looking for a cut in the Commercial Rates. Times are tough, but cut the rates, yes, cut public lighting, close playgrounds, cut jobs, cut Councillors wages and expenses, get rid of their free phones/calls, laptops etc.. I am not interested in the claim by the Sinn Feiners that they and their elected Reps only receive the average industrial wage. They and the  Higgins/Daly party cost the tax-payer the same as each and every other T.D..
Cut backs will we are told effect Community Employment groups. While many of them do good work some, such as the Breakfast Clubs should be shut down. Feed your own children, you get children's Allowance, buy food. These Breakfast Clubs discriminate against the children of parents who see it as a duty to feed their own children. Not only are the children being fed at school but many parents are being paid to work at feeding their own kids.
There is a growing movement to levy extra taxes on soft drinks, soft drinks are the new boogie man. I don't drink alcohol. Why should I pay extra for my tipple because someone else has fat kids. Smash their play stations and toss them out on the street, no coats, let them run about if they want to be warm. Salt is bad for the heart, tax crisps, chocolate, biscuits, text messages.
That is enough for now and if you disagree with my observations don't stop me in the street to complain, write to the Editor,he gets paid to read your drivel, I don't.

John Floyd was a lovely,lovely lad who met you with a smile and left you with a smile when he went, he had a great sense of humour always joking,game for a laugh, loved to slag you, but very important he could take it as well. When he was recovering from an accident or mishap he could crack a joke about and get on with his life. Very good natured, manys a bike and car he fixed and getting him to take money could be a problem, indeed we all know that he loved to do the Lotto, if he won he won it he would have given most of it away.

John was gifted with his hands, it was no problem to him to strip a motor motorbike engine,fix it, put it back together and run it up and down  Woodmill Hill. No problem you might say to a good mechanic with a set of spanners and socket set, but with a vice-grips only John Floyd could do that.

One thing about John, don't overstep the mark as one man found out. This man called over the months getting parts for an old car John had and each time he left the yard he'd say," I'll see you again John,thanks. An hour or so later, I witnessed this, a phone call for John, your man looking for his number plates. John said that they were there and when you bring a few bob down for the parts you can have them back. Two screws was all it took, your man could go nowhere, only John Floyd would think of that.

I see that Little Richard was in town, Tuesday, tinkling his ivorys, sorry Minister Richard Brutal was in town smiling for the cameras.   Nice to see you Minister, to see you nice.
 Call me a small balding redhead plump cynic if you wish but this Drogheda Heroes should be prosecuted under the Trades Description Act, A Town Fights Back, more West St./Shop St. fight back. There is more to this town than these two streets.
Tradition dictates that I go window shopping at this time of year, it's a day out and costs little, I do spend money at Christmas, though it is a painful experience saying goodbye to old friends.

Humorous, original, thought provoking, what can I say, The Life of Reilly was none of these things.Sarcastic, yes, satirical no, self-indulgent, definitely, an ego like an ass in Spring. However the Life is no more. It's gone like the snows of last winter, burst pipes, potholed roads, dead plants, gone, like a smell in a lift, though the guilty one has left his gift lingers on. LoR tried to be controversial but like a drink filled bladder missed the target most of the time. Don Quixote tilting at windmills, Lear raving on the moors cursing the thunder.
I know I had to take him to task on occasion, as one would  an errant child, firmly but gently guide him back to the path of righteous indignation where a Tut Tut and a shake of the head has more effect than a bellowing tirade. Firing both barrels is loud and very effective, quick and messy. Whereas the Stilletto under the ribs gives the target time to see the error of their ways.
However when all is said and done he is one of our own, Drogheda to the tattoo on his arm. The DI could soon follow. Over the past number of years we have lost columnist John McCullen, A man outstanding in his field, as someone who spent most of my summer holidays in the Woodmill with my grandparents I enjoyed his semi-rural musings, Gerry Kelly, a guaranteed  cure for insomnia, all gone.They were local and in the main wrote about local issues.
What have we now?  a paper that is neither local nor national, a paper that cannot decide wether it wants to be the DI or The Argus, generic columnists whose scribblings are to be found in any paper from here to Kerry. Ivan Yeates giving racing tips and rambling on about National Issues, a former TD, Minister and Bookie, the use of the word former says a lot. Gavan Duffy, explain to me what is he for, he teaches Politicos to talk a lot but say nothing, a FG mouthpiece, Dragon's Den, the X Factor for want-a-be movers and shakers, the audience that is.
I grew older, but not up, reading the DI was a must buy, not any more.
My advice to LOR is to start a blog, like me you can be ignored my millions.

When we think of Italy we normally think of Pasta, Football,cissyball/soccer, Sun, Opera,Mafia and Rome. When we think of Rome we think of the Vatican,The Pope and Caesar.

Following the overthrow of Tarquin the Proud,King of Rome the Romans decided no more Kings, they would be Governed by an elected Senate, elected by the Vox Populi, the Voice of the People. Not all the People, not women or slaves. Educated people, landowners, descendants of the great families. The ordinary voter had'nt much say until the Brothers Gracchi united them and formed a Plebian Party and forced through Laws that benefited the ordinary people. Both ended up sleeping with the fishes.

The Roman Senate was in many ways a gathering of Families, as in Mafia Families. Laws were enacted to suit themselves first and the City second. Two Consuls were elected to keep an eye on each other,

Mentor, thats another word with  Greek origins, an advisor, an adult who would teach and guide a young person in a trade, career, lets say teach the trade, instill a pride in their workmanship, pride in themselves. Take a bright eyed youth and years later present the man. They use the term on the XFactor where a judge advises and aids a particular act, thats the total sum of my knowledge about the XFactor.
If we are to believe David Norris mentoring in Ancient Greece, mostly Athens, involved a lot of sexual fumbling in addition to advice. A young boy/youth would take be apprenticed to an older man to learn about life,business, politics, speech-making, philosophy,etc.. These youths were to be the future leaders of the people, they were the elite of Greek Society. The sort of well heeled class who went to boarding school in England centuries later. A bit of groping, maybe mutual mastrubation, nothing wrong with an auld fellah touching up a young boy if it helps teach him about politics.
It did happen in ancient Greece but despite what our betters tell us it was not as common as they would try to have us believe and the sexual element was very much frowned upon as was homosexuality.
Oscar Wilde and people of his mind set like Norris would have us believe that Greek men and young men spent all their time caressing each other. Buggery was out of the question, a male who allowed himself to be penetrated could be sentenced to death or ostracised from society, politics and business. Much is made of the men only gatherings where men would lie around eating, drinking and probably bull- sh**ing. Thinking great thoughts. The only women present, slaves and prostitutes. What will historians make of Irish Culture in 2000 years when they examine the pub culture before the late 60s
Women in the great free-thinking Greece of The Golden Age were property, the property of their fathers and later their husbands. Girls got married around 14 yrs, the marriage being an arranged one for financial, business, political reasons. Heaven help the man who made a remark, not even a disrespectful one about another mans wife or daughter. Your wife is beautiful, next stop, Hades.
Much is made by the Intelligensia about the poetry of the time in praise of young men, easy to write in praise of young men, representing women, when the price of a poem about a women was death.
The Gay Community have kidnapped Alexander the Great yet there is no evidence to support their views. His father was a rake but homosexual behavior was a crime in Macedonia. Alexander had many close male friends from his youth but there is nothing,nothing to indicate anything sexual.
Alexander was once presented with two young boys as a gift. The exact conversation is not recorded but it went something like this:
ALEX-- Whots dis,
Phil--- A present to entertain you.
Alex--- Do they dance, sing, magic tricks.
Phil---Er no
Alex-- If yor sayin wot I tink yor sayin ewe must be fond of hospital food cos I'm goin to shove yor ead so far up yor ass ewe will need hemroid creem to clean yor f -ing teeth.
Norris for President, a man who insults his fellow Christians by calling the Pope a Nazi, it's Ok for a Brother to fumble in  boys trousers, to mastrubate him, to rub his penis against him, to encourage young men to skinny dip while he pleasures himself. There is a case under investigation by the Gardai into allegations against a member of the Medical Profession. Allegations of inappropiate sexual conduct, if he did'nt penetrate them then thats alright, is this what Norris is saying. Oh consentual acts. What is consent, is it consent when nothing is said, no objection made through fear.
Norris is the darling of the Media, well spoken, witty, educated, one of their own. Should he get on the Ballot Sheet they will promote his cause, Hail David, the Great Joycean Scholar, Homosexual, Protestant.
Don't mention the pocket billiards.

This is a piece written in 2004 in answer to Tom Reilly's question. His joke was a rarity in that it was funny.

I hear Gerry Floyd is having a row with the banks, headline reads, Gerry FLOYD HASSLES BANKS.

In answer to his question.

‘All Woman’ furore is storm in a D-cup
http://www.drogheda-independent.ie/opinion/letters/lsquoall-womanrsquo-furore-is-storm-in-a-dcup-603536.html
The Drogheda Branch of the Labour party has reacted to last week's article where Gerry Floyd alleged that the scantily clad mannequins in the All Woman shop in George's Street was causing distraction to male drivers. The points raised should be out in the open and a 'cover up' would be a throw back to the Dark Ages.
 

Lacy pants drive local  motorists to distraction
http://www.drogheda-independent.ie/news/lacy-pants-drive-local-motorists-to-distraction-602953.html
TANTALISING glimpses of women’s lacy underwear are distracting drivers on Drogheda’s George’s Street.The fancy panties on display in the ‘All Woman’ shop were the subject of a radio discussion this week when van driver Gerry Floyd complained the lingerie sightings were having a detrimental effect on male driving skills.‘One man I know was so dis

 

  Venisti, Vidisti, Vicisti, corde                                                                                                                                            Which as any old altar boy knows is You came, You saw, You conquered, our hearts. Now if I have made a grammatical mistake there forgive me. It is many decades since I conversed in Latin, Oh for the days when my juventutem meam amici would sit on the wall at Bottle Lane reading and discussing Virgil's Aeneid, the histories of Tacitus, the works of Pliny, younger and elder in the original Latin and on occasion a reading of Homer's Illiad in ancient Greek. At our feet, dubitans, listening and gathering up the pearls of wisdom that dropped from our lips.
I digress, the Queen, she came to call on us, we welcome her with a cead mile failte and in return she returned our welcome by enjoying herself, if she did'nt then she deserves on Oscar.
I am a Republican, I believe in the Republican ideal of  Liberty,Equality, Fraternity. I don't believe in the Divine Right of Kings/Queens nor in the idea that ones birth gives one a right to rule, nor do I believe that power should be gained and held through the ballot-box backed up by the gun.
I  am not a Royalist, even a Constitutional Monarchy is contary to my beliefs. However I have always had a sneeking regard for Queen Elizabeth II. She has always shown a great sense of duty to her country and it's people. During World War II the Family remained in London,Her home was bombed on one occasion. The then Princess Elizabeth served in the ATS training as a motor mechanic. When she was shown on the TV speaking to her driver she may have been commenting on the engine, wether the fuel mixture was too high.
She has a great sense of duty which is more than be said for many, too many, of our own home grown royalty in politics, the banks, etc..
It cost 30 million Euro to provide security for the visit, ask yourself whose fault is that. Money we can ill afford but money well spent in my opinion.
Ireland was on display, all over Britain, our biggest market, all over the world people tuned in to news broadcasts to see the Ireland Show. Visit Ireland, a beautiful country, our history, leaders in Technology, an Educated young workforce, buy our food products,our Equine Industry the best in the world, friendly faces, a proud able people. Despite the efforts of our elite to drive us into the gutter we are still looking at the stars.
There are those who will whinge that she should have apologised for the past, that is a political function. Let us not forget that she too was touched, in a personal way, by the troubles when Lord Mountbattan was murdered. She spoke well and used more Gaeilge than the so called Irish republican protesters would use in a lifetime.
While the visit to the Garden of Rememberance was important the visit to the National War Memorial at Islandbridge was equally important recognition for the Lions led by Donkeys who died on the beach at Gallipoli and the trenches of the Somme. These were Irish heroes and lest we forget many were starved into uniform by Irishmen with the same mindset as those who caused the present economic disaster.
Finally, to Queen Elizabeth II thank you for coming and making this Republican Irishman proud to be Irish.
Ago porro quod prospico reverto nonnullus, as we used to say in Marian Park.

Geraldus