Colm O'Regan's blog

Colm O'Regan gets assertive in the library...

“Hello? Hello JAY? Yeah. I’m in the library mate… Yeah…No I can talk. How are you?..” Alright? [Laughs]  Aw mate, my head is killing me… Yeah…big night. [Laughs]”

I stiffen. If I had hackles they would start rising. I too am in the library, trying to concentrate on some hilarious and thought-provoking commentary on the human condition (or knob gags, whichever is easier). Concentration is difficult because the man is still talking.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going to happen… I tried to ring Gary at work but no answer so I just left a message.”

His voice is so loud I’d say Gary heard him at work without any phone. Then it gets ridiculous.

He lies there in the sink motionless. Or at least I think it’s a he. Since the beginning of time – well since the beginning of sinks, Daddy Long-Legs (Latin name bigflakyspiderus) have sat in wash basins and baths wondering about the decisions they have made in their lives thus far to get to this stage.

This time it’s different. The daddylonglegs sits in an Impala washbasin in a bath and tile showroom. Maybe he and the wife were out looking at sanitary ware too, scoping out the latest trends in basin-slope in order to reduce the risk of strand-ment. Now he’s marooned in the showroom. I know how he feels. 

I’m sure you could find it out on the Internet somewhere if you wanted to. But where’s the fun in that? There is nothing to beat turning the page of the Tullamore Tribune and finding, much to your surprise that Paolo Coelho’s masterpiece, the Alchemist is the favourite book of County Offaly. That is the serendipity of a newspaper. And no newspapers are more serendipitous than the Local-n-Regionals.

The book, which is essentially a fable about finding your destiny, has many powerful lines  - none more so than “Lead will play its role until the world has no further need for lead; and then lead will have to turn itself into gold” And you can see the effect that this statement may be having on the behaviour of the people of the area. Behaviour which lands them in court.

I have meetings this week. It’s been a while. In the world of self-employment I don’t have to go to many meetings. The ones I have with myself can be chaotic. Often I leave to take a phonecall and never go back.

Meetings are much maligned. Of course it’s easy to sneer at them. No really it is. You just move your seat back slightly from the table, hold some paper up to your face and arrange your mouth and eyebrows into a sneery configuration. Just don’t do it if you're the boss.

The excitement is building. Literally. After a few years of moaning about a small bathroom and walking around the rooms with our ‘what-if’ faces on, we’re getting some work done to our little mid-terraced house.

Unfortunately it’s not 1989, so we’re not getting cladding. That is a small pity. When I see a row of conventionally finished houses, I have a sneaking admiration for the one dwelling that is pretending to be the only remnant of a mediaeval, and possibly, enchanted castle. Not unfortunately, it is not 1995, so we don’t feel the need to add Doric columns to the outside unless someone can point out evidence of an ancient Greek trading post in the area.