Sam Maguire ears
Jean's Journal with Jean Farrell
Listening to the radio, lately, I was stopped in my tracks by a man speaking about an ailment which I also seem to have. It is called prosopagnosia disease (doesn’t it sound dreadful?) It is the inability to recognise faces.
I meet lovely people all the time (readers of my column) who stop and talk to me. The very next day I could pass these same people and not recognise them. This is TERRIBLE and I apologise to anyone I have failed to remember.
Another name for it is ‘face-blindness’ and at its worst a person can’t even recognise their own face in a mirror. Thankfully, I appear to have only a mild dose of this!
I could relate to a lot of what the man on the radio programme said. While watching a film on television I am constantly wondering to myself, ‘Is he the man who was in the room a minute ago?’ or ‘Is that the girl who was in the shop in the last scene?’ This makes it difficult to follow a plot. The man (on the radio) said the same, which was consoling!
On the subject of diseases, in 1935 a book was published entitled, ‘On Curing the Disability and Disease of Left-Handedness.’ I quote, from a review of this book, ‘At this time, left-handedness was seen as a deterrent to succeeding in the newly industrialised world. The book recommended the training of children from infancy to overcome left-handedness, which came as a result of parental indifference to the seriousness of the handicap, which was a condition, a disease that needed to be recognised along the same lines as rickets, pneumonia and colic. Much needed to be done to stamp out the newly-recognised disease, the curse of left-handedness. ‘
This was, no doubt, the thinking behind teachers forcing young left-handed children to use their right hand, when we were young.
Still on the subject of physical failings, I heard a woman on the radio say that her father was not a handsome man. He had ‘Sam Maguire ears,’ she told us. I presume she means that he has protruding ears. What a way to describe them!
From physical defects to graveyards - my great grandparents are buried out in Cornamagh Cemetery. My family recently decided to erect a headstone on their grave. Armed with dates of their deaths, one of my sisters made an appointment with the caretaker in this old cemetery.
Much to her great surprise she was told that the deaths are not on computer there. They are now on-line in most cemeteries in Ireland. The helpful caretaker took down old brown thick books, like ledgers. Leafing through these he found the names and where they were buried. Then, consulting an ancient map stuck to the wall, he showed her their graves.
My brothers and sisters went out to Cornamagh the following week to see could we find the plot. How very different this graveyard is to the ‘new’ one in Coosan (opened in 1968.) The old tombstones and trees would remind me of spooky films and ghosts!! As we walked, it was frightening to see how many names we recognised, names of old neighbours and friends.
Now, from funerals to festivals, I mentioned Ballybunion last week. Well, I came across a very funny account of what was called ‘The Gay Bachelor Festival’ held there, in the not too distant past. I watched beautiful Grace O’Shaughnessy (on the RTE Archive site) giving an account of some of these bachelors, as they paraded, one at a time, in front of The Late Late Show audience.
This was quite risqué in 1977 for the ten men wore only skimpy swimsuits. Most had what I’d call a ‘Benjy Riordan’ haircut, with side burns. And most had a farmer’s tan. Three quarters of their arms were burnt brown, while the rest of their bodies were snow-white!
Grace told us their measurements, as they pranced round. “Frank, 40-34-38 and 12 is sporting red trunks. Seamus, 38-30-36 and 13 can down a pint in 3 seconds.” (Were eligible spinsters supposed to be impressed?) “Frank, 32-26-30 and 11 is able to shear a sheep in 5 minutes. Tomás, 42, 24, 38 and 10 is looking very jazzy in maroon shorts. What a manly chest he has!” commented Grace O’Shaughnessy, smiling.
None had ‘Sam Maguire ears!’
The prize was £200, and if the bachelor got married within 12 months he got another £100. The lads all looked as if they were up for great crack, and I bet there was much drink consumed below in Ballybunion during this festival!
Joe Dolan sang, “I am a Westmeath Bachelor and my age is 63…” I see that Mullingar now hosts a Westmeath Bachelor Competition. Louis Walsh and Anne Doyle are the judges. So, if any young handsome bachelors are reading this, off you go!!
I have two things to say to the members of Westmeath County Council, who are responsible for Cornamagh Graveyard. Can you put the names of those buried in this graveyard on-line?
And secondly, please, can you put the seats back on The Strand (An Trá.) They are sorely missed, particularly in this lovely weather. It is the sunniest spot in town, and perfect for watching the calm waters flow by or for having a chat with a pal.
This is my last column until September. I hope you all enjoy the sunshine and bright evenings. Take care and enjoy every day.