Move
To Ireland News Move
To Ireland NewsAn Opinionated Overview of Irish News of Importance to Folks Moving Here.
IN THIS ISSUE: The Money Pit; 800 thousand per family; Policy Madness; Be Happy; Wedding Dress Trash; Crossing Over - the World; Black Berries & Sweets
THE WORLD'S BIGGEST UNDERGROUND: FROM EUROPEAN SHORES TO IRISH BANKS
Ireland is building the biggest subterranean tunnel in the world.
The route will not involve prime land. We're talking sub-sub prime all the way. The cost is currently 25 billion to 200 billion euro. No one's quite sure about the costs to an order of magnitude. Hey, it's government work.
The beauty of the project is that there will be no stations and no pesky passengers, no trains, no rails, no cement, no parking lots and only a handful of extremely well paid employees. In fact, there's nothing but a giant hole, a huge pit sufficient in size to accommodate all those billions of euro.
The abyss extends from our shores and banks to those of the Eurozone. It is evidently the government's plan to deepen the hole as necessary, whatever the cost. When it is large enough to sink the island of Ireland, the government's ambitions will have been achieved.
Until that happy day, the people of Ireland will continue to pay over the odds to borrow money to keep building the biggest, deepest, damnedest money pit the world has ever seen.
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT
You lot really blew it!
We were counting on you to spend-spend-spend like there was no tomorrow, that is, like it was 2006. But, no, you were too selfish. Your thrifty ways mean that Ireland can't reinflate its busted balloon economy.
Standard & Poor's downgraded Ireland's debt again and none of us knows how much more money the banks will need. The latest figure being bandied about is that we, the public, are on the hook for 200 billion euro. For a country whose total government income is 33 billion, we're making Iceland look like a piker.
Of course, 200 billion euro might be a lowball figure since the banks continue to lie with impunity. That's an awful lot of zeroes, but my share works out at 200,000 euro. For those of you who like working with zeroes, that 200,000,000,000 euro divided by 4,000,000 people.
Let's see, that means my family of four is on the hook for eight hundred thousand euro to keep the liars and idiots running the show in business.
Ha ha on them! When they take my house, savings, cars and first born they'll still be several hundred thou short.
MADNESS
How did we get in this mess? The summer brought more details.
Well, first, we've got a political party which has been in power for most of the last 80 years. They're arrogant, disconnected and, obviously, incompetent.
More immediately, when the panic of 2008 reached its height, the Taoiseach/Prime Minister and current Minister of Finance called the banksters for advice. Surprise! Their advice was to guarantee every single crazy loan made in the last decade. Many of those loans have now been independently appraised as being worth 5 or 10 cents on the euro. But, our daring duo - both hereditary office holders whose fathers held the same parliamentary seats before them - were unable to stand apart from the golden circle and evaluate reality. They still can't. The pair also specifically ignored the advice of their hired consultants NOT to offer such an unconditional guarantee.
They keep digging the hole deeper based on the false information given them by the liars running - still running - the banks. You'd think perpetrating fraud against the government would be worth at least a slap on the wrist, or even a forced resignation or two. Nah. As for prosecution and jail, please!
The banksters are obviously doing a good job, because they insist they need higher pay. Again and again, the Minister of Finance has granted exemptions from the rules which he wrote capping top bank salaries. Up to now, the Minister has an excuse for being loopy. He's fighting pancreatic cancer and has been on chemotherapy and radiation. But, his chemo ended this past month.
Now that he's returning to fighting form, he'll be knocking the stuffings out of public services and the public's purse. Save a few billion here, bring in another couple of billion here and he'll have enough to keep throwing down the bank hole for just a bit longer.
Meanwhile, roughly 1,000 families a week are being disconnected by the electric company.
DON'T WORRY, BE HAPPY
The consensus of most economists is that the dance is drawing to a close. Ireland, they say, is going down.
Maybe. My advice remains the same - keep some cash in the cookie jar in case a bank run starts. Keep some substantial sums in non-Irish banks or in RaboDirect - http://www.rabodirect.ie - an Irish internet bank that's guaranteed by the Dutch.
WEDDING DRESS TRASH
This is familiar territory for the Irish who endured centuries of oppressive and predatory English rule. There's an old Irish saying that's appropriate - "Things are disastrous, but never serious."
So, ignore the news. Enjoy family, friends, the summer's fine weather, the growing grass. Eat, drink and be merry....
Call it a sign of the times. It's now chic to follow up a wedding by trashing the bridal dress. So bathers have been treated to scenes of brides in full regalia wading into the sea.
Crass? You bet. But, the thought occurs to me - what exactly do you do with a used wedding dress? Save it in case you need it again? Donate it to starving children in Africa? Or save it for the kids who will have to emigrate?
CROSSING OVER
The biggest drawback to moving to Ireland is leaving family and friends behind. But, you'd be amazed.
I wrote a satiric song a few years back and here's the fifth verse. Note: Irish ballads never have less than seven verses and twenty or so is more the norm.
"Oh, the saddest event was leave our family,
Till they made us their own overseas B&B.
Now Aunt Sue and Alma, Uncles Ger, Don and Finn,
Have made us the most popular stop in Erin."
The real problem, I've found, is dealing with an overseas medical emergency. My parents, in their eighties, have been in and out of the hospital and I've done my best to be available. This entails a lot of frequent flyer miles.
It never ceases to amaze me that I can get around the planet in under a day. One hour to Cork airport, another to London, ten more to California. The subway in San Francisco connects me ninety minutes later to a train. The train takes another ninety minutes to reach Sacramento - temporary abode of Governator Arnold Schwarzenegger - where my sister picks me up for the last 20 minute drive to the suburb where my parents live.
We grow used to the wonders of the day. But, consider that just two hundred years ago, I wouldn't have been able to cross most Irish counties in under a day. And then, only if I owned the latest hi-tech gadget - a horse.
I hate to think of the carbon I'm generating. But, those of you moving to Ireland, don't despair. With skype, phone, email, twitter and jets your family isn't all that far.
HERE CAME THE SUN
My two girls went to school at "The Corner of the Berries". Coolnasmear. 'Smear' means berries, which translates nicely into English.
This was a year which will live in the annals of berrydom. Lots of sun, not all that much rain and a fair bit of heat.
My older neighbours reminisce about picking berries when they were younger. Back when all their endless family farm work was unpaid, this was one time when they worked for themselves.
A few decades ago, many an Irish town boasted a local jam making factory. In our town, the berry man would make his rounds in early September, buying up pails and pails worth of black berries. The best part was that the berries could be a bit mouldy, a bit maggoty, but no one cared. Jam making was apparently a trade about which the less you knew, the better it tasted.
The pay was memorable. A long day's work would set you up with enough bars and penny candies to last till Christmas.
I eat my way down our country land and what I see is the shine of ripe perfection. My neighbours? They see money and bags of jelly sweets.
Scott