Somewhere along the road, our sense of humour hit a road block.
I read a joke today. It is of no consequence what it was other than that it triggered a memory for me.
My late Uncle used to tell that particular joke back in the 80's.
As I recollect he did it with an Irish accent. He told some great jokes. It started me thinking about how nice it is to still have a laugh in these troubled times.
Read more: Life is No Longer a Laughing Matter
The 17th of March marks the date of the death of St Patrick, the patron Saint of Ireland. St Patrick was actually born in Britain but, when he was 16, he was kidnapped and taken to Ireland as a slave. It was about the year 415 and there was no kids helpline or social media available to send out a cry for help.
So he planned and plotted and eventually managed to escape. Sadly, Paddy was no Houdini and he was sent off to France where he was introduced to Christianity.
Some years ago I worked in a large private organisation that was engaged in facility management. It was a very happy workplace and we still have an annual get together like a bunch of old schoolboys.
There were about 40 of us in the management echelon and we did many trips into the Outback, then when Australia had been fully covered we did a trip down Route 66 in America and another one to Cuba.
We formed ourselves into a little organisation called The Drinking Man’s Travel Company.
When I was a kid, one of the first things we were taught was how to ride a bike and how to swim. The two seemed to travel in tandem. I can't remember who it was (probably Einstein or similar ) who said that the secret to riding a bicycle was to keep moving forward.
In the case of swimming, it is often about keeping your head above water and treading water when you are tired or feeling sunk.
Read more: Parenting - the ability to pass on our knowledge and hope for the best.
Who among us has heard of a man named Edgar Harrell? Until a while ago, his name meant nothing to me - I had never heard of this extraordinary human being. But I was sent a link to a youtube clip where Edgar told his story of a time back in 1945 when he and his fellow shipmates spent 5 days in shark infested water in the South Pacific.
Edgar Harrell was a young Marine assigned to the US Navy ship, the USS Indianapolis. After delivering components for the atomic bombs, the ship was torpedoed by a Japanese submarine. Hundreds of his mates were killed by sharks. Listen to his harrowing experience.
Read more: A tale of Sharks, rotten potatoes, kapok lifejackets and surfboards
I remember the days before computers changed our lives. When I was a lad, I first trained as a civil engineer in the late 1950s to early 1960s. There were no electronic calculators, and all calculations were performed either manually, by trigonometric tables, or by using a slide rule.
We used to analyse the stresses and bending moments in structural elements using advanced mathematics based upon first principles, knowledge of which has long faded from my aged brain. The Sydney Harbour Bridge is a classic two-pinned arch design which we studied. If you drive past both abutments, you will see the huge supporting pins which take the entire load of the bridge.
Read more: Fings ain't what they used to be computers killed the slide rule
What is the luck of the Irish? Many people think it is a good thing to have.
I asked one of our commenters ( Paddy ) what it meant and he said to me " Well, my old Gran used to say that if it was raining soup, we'd be carrying forks. "
And that sounds like a pretty good definition to me.
Read more: The Luck of the Irish - a story of soup, forks and always looking for the bright side
Throughout history, we have seen Nations triumph or be crushed by authoritarianism and it all comes down to the strength of the Leader at the helm.
But strength when exercised through fear and strength exercised through Patriotism and love are two entirely different matters.
Hitler was strong but he ruled with fear. Xi Jinping is much the same. Pol Pot. Idi Amin.
Read more: King Haakan VII of Norway - the King's Choice in the face of fear
Imagining the worlds of an 11, 14, or 16-year-old in one of my classes over the last three years strikes me with grief at times. Suddenly, with the flip of a switch, everything these children held onto in the world outside their immediate homes ended.
Friends they laughed and gathered with each day in middle school went away; teachers who greeted them or hugged them in high school or posted their artwork or essays in the classroom disappeared; the Dungeons and Dragons club they attended every Friday night with dozens of high school friends stopped; the young musicians they played with each day at school were ordered to stay home; soccer practice and games stopped; church youth groups did not meet.
What we need right now is a bull in the China Shop. Someone who can sort the buggers out.
No wonder the Left hates Trump and wanted him gone. They threw everything they had at getting him out of power and were not worried about breaking every cup, saucer, jug or plate if that meant that he and his Presidency was over.
For decades, the Bull in the China shop has signified a rampaging beast who storms through the door and smashes everything to pieces.
People who live lives that are out of the ordinary run the risk of being hailed by succeeding generations as legends, and of having the most intimate details of their lives scrutinized. All of us leave public records that may in the future be used to piece together our lives for better or for worse, though at the time we never consider that possibility. Big Brother and others have tabs on us even in death. Hannah Glennon, ‘Red Jack’ of horse breaking, droving and bush racing fame, would no doubt be totally perplexed by the interest shown in her today, as she never sought fame. She would also be horrified by the public airing of her dirty linen (she was a laundress at one stage) gleaned through official records; such, however, is the price of fame.
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