STORIES FROM MY GRANDMOTHER
By MARGARET E. WARD (note: spelling incorrect in Irish Times archive)
1482 Words
29 October 1996
Irish Times

GRANDMA was a jailbird. The confirmation of this fact, a few months ago, was strangely comical and I laughed nervously as I read the document in my hand that confirmed it: “Prisoner Index No. 13286, O’Toole, Maggie, Tomduff, Borris, Carlow”.

Still doubtful, I checked the Kilmainham Gaol register and found an inquiry after her from March 26th, 1923. This was apparently one of many letters written by her mother, my great grandmother, Mary Anne Murphy O’Toole, in a campaign to have her 14 year old eldest child released from prison.

Hold on a minute. How could this girl possibly have grown to become my 88 year old grandmother, who lives in the US and whose greatest past offence, in my mind, was providing me with forbidden butterscotch or mint sweets?

This sense of confusion began the moment I stepped off the plane in June 1995, armed with 50 or more hours of interviews with my grandmother and a deep curiosity about my parents’ and grandparents’ emigration to New York. Although I’d travelled to Ireland over a dozen times as a child, this time I was here as an adult to write my grandmother’s life story and I was deeply sceptical as to the accuracy of the interviews.

There was no doubt she was a captivating storyteller, but journalists and biographers usually find that many stories are false; merely a combination of gossip, half truths and misinformation. My numerous discoveries over the past 16 months concerning Margaret O’Toole Rice, the woman for whom I was named, have made me put aside my scepticism and reassess my attitude towards the truth in ordinary lives.

While I was growing up in New York, I’d heard grandma tell her story about running dispatches during the Civil War but I thought it was just that: a story. She lived on the third floor of our house in Long Island and although I was frightened by anyone without teeth, a decidedly American obsession, I found a solution to the problem in order to hear her tales. After dinner each night, I ran up the stairs shouting: “Grandma, put your teeth in, I’m coming up.”

There she sat, as if she’d never moved from the day before, in her armchair crocheting an afghan for one relative or another. I’d pick up one of the brightly coloured balls of yarn from her basket, sit on the floor next to her and ask her a question: “Who is this afghan for, grandma?” or say “Tell me again what it was like in prison”, knowing full well that it would release another tale of that strange country where my parents were born.

According to my grandmother: “In Kilmainham, I got this itch, some sort of rash between your hands. I was the only one who got it, because I was younger, or whatever. I had to be isolated from the others, getting soaks and baths, and you had to scrub yourself and it used to bleed. I was about three weeks on it, and that’s all on my own. I got to choose my own cell, because they were idle. I chose the one where Count Plunkett and his daughter in law were. The moon shone in and you could see Mary painted on the wall, with the light from the outside shining on it.”

Once I absorbed her words, I decided to reenact her experience there, even though I was twice her imprisonment age. Last spring, I stood alone in that freezing cold cell and imagined the stern faced Maggie O’Toole praying, as she would, to the religious mural on the wall, with only a candle for warmth and light. The sense of desperation and loneliness I felt in five minutes was overwhelming and my toes were so frozen I thought they’d snap off if I took even one step. I quickly moved to the comfort of a warm room off the cell, to re-read her interviews concerning Kilmainham, making my attempt at reliving the past even more pathetic.

Despite the warmth of my grandmother’s voice when she spoke, there was an “Are you listening to me girl, because this is important” urgency in the telling. I admit that sometimes I wasn’t listening but instead floating on the melodious intonations of her voice and the very roll of the words from her Irish tongue. When the crochet needles fell silent, I knew I was being reeled back in for the climax of the story. Looking up, I’d see my grandmother’s dour stare give way to her greatly mischievous laugh and a nod of acknowledgement before she fashioned the grand finale.

According to my grandmother, this gift for dramatic storytelling was inherited from my great grandmother, Mary Ann O’Toole. “My mother could read books, and she could sit there and tell you from A to Z. After my father died, her oldest brother used to come up with the horses for a couple of days to help us put in the crops, and she’d start telling stories, and the stories that she read, like Cusped Hands and Lady Isabel and all that. Well, she’d stare at that book, and we used to be so quiet because we couldn’t stir, we couldn’t make a stir while she was telling the story.”

In 1908, the year my grandmother was born, this same Mary Anne O’Toole obtained the Scottish Widows’ Fund Calendar and Diary 1908 and started recording important family events within its pages. This index finger long and two thumbs wide book was lovingly maintained by my grandmother’s late sister, Katherine, and was loaned to me recently by her daughter, Betty Ryan Costin of Kilcock, Co Kildare. One of the first entries says: “The first child was born August 20, 1907 an [sic] died a son. The second child was born 2nd August 1908 a daughter baptised by Father John Beechman p. priest of Rathanna the 9th day of August 1908, sponsor Micheal Murphy DMP and Margret Doran of Sisken an called the child Margret.”

Over a year after my grandmother was released from prison, Mary Ann wrote one of her last entries in that tiny book: “Maggie O’Toole left Tomduff 13 day October 1924 for London” then finally, “stopt their till 3 Nov an sailed to New York in 1926 wrote by her mother Mary An Toole”.

Little did she know that Maggie would return to Ireland in 1932 married, against her mother’s wishes, to a man from the parish in Rathanna named Arthur Rice and holding the first of an eventual total of seven children. Although Arthur was the youngest son, he had inherited their new home, Rice’s of Ballinvalley, from his mother. Unfortunately, Arthur maintained his rambling ways and, although my grandmother continued to love him, things were very difficult for her working the farm with the children.

By 1959, with Arthur gone for good, she followed her grown children to the US: “We did auction and when I left the road gate the morning we were moving out I thought my heart would break and oh Lord, I cried and cried all the ways to the train. And when I look at that now I say God knew so well that it was hard at that time like everything was. God directed me. But it was hard, and I loved every grain, every blade of grass that grew on that farm.”

Ballinvalley, the farm my grandmother loves so well, was never sold and is now being refurbished by the family. Today, at 88 my grandmother has outlived her husband, her siblings, three of her seven children (including my mother) and most of the people she was imprisoned with in Kilmainham. She stopped crocheting the afghans and working her full time job as a nurse only a few years ago. In August, her physical health collapsed and now she lies semi comatose in a hospital bed in Andover, Massachusetts just a few minutes away from her only son Thomas and his family.

Although I have a lifetime of listening to her stories and I’ve been researching them for the past year and a half, I find that it is only when the people we love are silenced that we really begin to listen. A few years back, Grandma told me she learned how to crochet from her mother but perfected the craft in Kilmainham Gaol as a way to pass the time while telling stories. I still have the little pink, white and blue baby blanket she gave my mother before I was born. If I ever have a daughter, I wonder how many stories that blanket will whisper to her as she sleeps?

They climb the market and scrape their pocket
The Armani suits have got a tear
They waltz on their way to bank guarantees
And whistle at the Central Bank’s gold-plated lair
And underneath their wallet
They have betting slips on their mare
I even heard them singing in the Galway tent

He’s always avoiding punishment
But his PR-trained penitence is real
He’s always late for everything
Except for every salary fattened meal
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Bust banks are not an asset to the country

I’d like to say a word on their behalf
Fat cat bankers – and their arrogance – make me laugh

How do you solve a problem like a bust banking system?
How do you catch property market speculators and pin them down?
How do you find a word that means the nation’s bankrupters?
A vampire squid! Ignorant politicians! A frown!

Many a thing you know you’d like to tell them
Many a thing they ought to understand
But how do you make Irish bankers stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep their solicitor’s hourly fees under a grand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like unrepentant bankers?
How do you hold an old Irish punt in your hand?

When I’m with them I’m confused
Out of focus and bemused
And I never know exactly where I am
Unpredictable as an EU politician
They’re as flighty as a Ryanair technician
He’s an amadon! He’s a dunderhead! He’s probably a resident of D4!

They’d outpester any pest
Drive a Sarkozy from its nest
He could throw a whirling Merkel out of whirl
He is garrolous! He is wildly optimistic!
His strategy’s a financial riddle! He’s a hard one to abide!
He’s a tax-avoider! He’s the IMF’s worst curse!
He’s  really just a big girl’s blouse!

How do you solve a problem like unrepentant bankers?
How do you catch a piece of slime and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means bust bankers?
An ignoramus! A risk-o’-the markets! A clown!

Many a thing you know you’d like to tell them
Many a thing they ought to understand
But how do you make Irish “bust bank” execs stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep their solicitor’s hourly fees under a grand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like frozen credit?
How do you hold an economy’s lifeblood in your hand?

Profile: Entrepreneur Dr George G. Moore
By Margaret E. Ward

When Louth business tycoon George Moore was just a boy in Pearse Park, Dundalk a local priest was inspired by a Cooley legend to launch a hurling competition. In the epic Táin Bó Cuailgne the Irish warrior Cúchulainn, who was then a boy called Setanta, set out from his home by hitting his sliotar before him and then running ahead at great speed to catch it.

In 1961, the first Poc Fada distance hurling competition took place over a 5 km course in the Cooley Mountains. Contestants then, as now, must hit the sliotar as far as possible and the person who finishes the course in the fewest pucks wins.

Growing up with legendary competitions like that, perhaps it’s no surprise that Dr. George G. Moore’s life has gone further, faster, than anyone in Dundalk might reasonably have expected.

Although the 60-year old entrepreneur now spends most of his days working as Chairman and Chief Executive of his Washington-DC based marketing software company TargusInfo, overseeing his investment in The Belleek Group and dabbling in a few angel investments, his wee county origins are still important to him.

The scholarship kid
Dr Moore came from humble beginnings. “We owned nothing and had nothing so we had only one way to go,” he says.

As a young man, he worked hard at school and says academic scholarships played a key part in shaping his future. “If I did not have that I’d probably be a bank teller in Dundalk. It was significant. I was a scholarship kid all growing up. I was in a grammar school and won a scholarship to UCD.”

At University College Dublin, he studied economics and commerce and he was mentored by Professor Tony Cunningham and John Teeling [Cooley Distillery]. Thanks to another scholarship, this time to George Washington University, Moore found himself in America’s political power centre, Washington, DC. Although the 1970s were one of the most turbulent times in American history, the newly married young Irishman kept his head down and quickly completed a PhD.

After graduation, he and his wife Angela sought their fortune on the west coast. He worked for California Analysis Centers Inc (CACI) International, a good training ground for entrepreneurs.

In 1983, he started at National Decision Systems (NDS) in San Diego, a marketing software company. The innovative company did extremely well and seven years later Dr. Moore sold it to Equifax for more than $100m.

Shaping an empire: from software to pottery
Twenty-one years on, Dr. Moore’s business interests range from high-tech software to traditional pottery reflecting both the new and old images of Ireland abroad.

How did it all come about? The proceeds of the sale of NDS became Dr Moore’s springboard into a number of businesses. It was also fortuitous for struggling County Fermanagh-based Belleek Pottery Limited. Moore was already running a new software company but he was never one to shy away from a challenge. Besides, he thought he could turn Belleek around quickly and flip it for a profit. He bought the legendary pottery producer for an estimated $6.1 million.

Since then, Belleek has rebranded from the ornamental porcelain with shamrocks displayed by your granny to everyday pottery through its Belleek Living range. The company, which is overseen by a Fermanagh-based executive team, has also expanded to more than 10 times its original size.

Things are ramping up at Belleek in 2011 with a new US-based sales and distribution operation just outside Washington DC in northern Virginia. The Belleek Group, which comprises Belleek Pottery, Galway Crystal and Aynsley China, has estimated sales turnover of $5 million a year. The company is projecting a15 per cent growth in sales over the next three years.

TargusInfo is also once again expanding its headquarters and offerings in Vienna, Virginia. Although Moore sold a percentage of Targus to a private equity firm a few years ago he remains in charge and seems to have little taste for selling it and running it as a public company. “I’m gonna run it the way I think it should be run. If shareholders want to run it they should choose a different CEO.”

Looking for the next big idea
His advice for anyone looking to start their own company? “When I started my own companies, I never took on debt. I always used customer money. Before you go, find customers who will buy your product or service. Do not rely on ‘build it and they will come’. Too many times people have an idea, go to VC, built the company then try to find the customer. I would say idea and customer first.”

Meanwhile, the self-confessed explorer keeps looking for new things to play with or fix. “For me, there are shades of grey between working and relaxing. I have a number of investments that I really enjoy.”
His latest business baby, called Eades, is a single malt whiskey producer based in Charlottesville, Virginia. “We’re producing a scotch style boutique whisky in the US. It will mirror the styles of Scotland and Ireland,” says Moore.

There’s no place like home
Dr Moore had a few landmark events earlier this year: he turned 60 and became a grandfather. His two daughters and one son have all completed their education; the youngest just graduated with a degree in medicine from UCD.

The family has been in the US for the last four decades but Carlingford, where they have a second home, remains the place they choose when they want a break.

“For the last 30 years, we’ve always come back to Ireland. We come five or six times a year for a couple of weeks. The US is home ─ it’s where our kids live ─ but when we come home to Ireland I’m not sure we ever left,” he said.

Cúchulainn would be proud.

***
[Sidebar 1]
A day in the life
Rising time:
Moore is both an early bird and a night owl. “I’m up at 6.15am. I like to get up and get going. I’m in the office by 8am.

Turning off the lights:
“On average, I like to go to bed at 11pm…I sleep seven to eight hours if I can get them.”

On the way to work:
He might use his iPad to read the newspapers

Relaxation:
Swimming in a pool or walking in the mountains

Reading material:
Moore likes popular novels by detail-oriented authors such as Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum and Bill Flynn.

Something you might expect:
He has a knack for anything mechanical and likes to figure out how it all works.

Something that might surprise you:
Moore is developing a single malt scotch whiskey business in Charlottesville, Virginia.

Favourite quote…
“Do what you love and love what you do” If you don’t like what you’re doing, do something else.

Advice for students:
Study the hard sciences if you can. “In all developed economies we’ve seen a trend of graduates going into business and law. We need to make sure there is a balance between hard science and business. The cross-over between those two disciplines is where all economies have grown.”

[Sidebar 2]
By the numbers…
TargusInfo, a privately held company, had an estimated value of €200 million in 2005. The company employs close to 500 people in 13 offices.

Belleek was purchased for around $6.1 million in 1990. Today the combined Belleek Group has estimated sales of $5 million a year.

Personal net worth. According to The Sunday Independent Rich List 2011, Dr George Moore has estimated wealth of €153 million – up €5 million on last year, placing him at number 60 on the list.

Awards
In 2007, Queen Elizabeth II awarded him an honorary CBE in recognition of his contribution to Northern Ireland’s economy and his international work supporting Ireland.

He has also been awarded the influential Irish America magazine’s “US Top 100 in Business: 1991-2006″ and University College Dublin’s “Outstanding Alumnus 1991 Award”.

Scholarship funds

In 2009, Moore announced a €100,000 third-level scholarship fund over five years for qualifying students at his alma mater, De la Salle secondary school in Dundalk.

Writing and speaking are tools for communicating a message. That’s it. Yet so many things – jargon, legalese, academic-speak, overly formal or informal language, too many words, poor grammar and punctuation – get in the way of good communication.

Clear Ink helps financial services, legal, media, health and technology firms, multinationals, government bodies and semi-states sell their products and services to customers using clear English. Our services include:

• Marketing writing  — brochures, letters, reports, newsletters, websites and more
• Editorial content — articles, blogs and clear English guides on any subject
• Editing and  proofreading — all documents: we make your hard work shine
• Writing skills training courses — Business writing in clear English, Think like a journalist  (advanced), Social media marketing on a shoestring (Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, GoogleAds and blogs) and more.

To get you started on your clear English journey, here are our top writing tips:

PLAN (figure out who you are, who you’re talking to, what you want to say)
1. Think of the audience. Before you write, put yourself in your customers’ shoes. Who are they? What are they interested in? What do they want/ need from you? If you don’t write for the reader by giving them something they need then you’ve lost them… and all your hard work has been wasted.

2. Specify your purpose. Why are you writing? Be as specific as possible. A detailed objective will help you choose your marketing strategy and writing style.

3. Choose a tone of voice. Formal, academic-style business writing is old-fashioned. Think about how you talk to your customers in person. Replicate this conversational style in your writing. It’s a balancing act but try to keep it professional yet friendly.

WRITE (deliver the message)
4. Treat customers with respect. There’s nothing worse than getting a letter or brochure that’s confusing, talks down to you or scolds you. Always use language that is appropriate to both the reader and the subject matter.

5. Get rid of jargon. Although the words and phrases of your profession and firm are familiar to you, it’s unlikely that most readers know your industry’s jargon. Language should not be a secret society handshake or a code to decipher. Writing is about communicating a message, not trying to impress readers with big words.

6. Look for the story. As humans, we relate to stories. That’s how we all learn and absorb information. Marketing writing is storytelling. Take the reader from the beginning to the end. Don’t jump all over the place. Imagine them asking you “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do? What can your company do for me?”

7. Have a sense of humour. Don’t you like to laugh? Well, so do your readers. Serious is boring. Zzzzzzzz. Sometimes a little unexpected, but appropriate, humour leaves a great impression. It shows you are a confident and relaxed professional – with the human touch.

EDIT (be the reader)
8. Cut, cut, cut. Most of us tend to overwrite. We use 20 words when five will do. Only use what you need to relay your message. If you’re having trouble removing information just put yourself in the reader’s shoes – what do they absolutely need to know?

9. Review your audience and purpose. When you edit, you are looking through a reader’s eyes. Does your document answer the reader’s universal question “What’s in it for me?” How do the words make them feel about you and your business? Will they feel called to action by your words – will they pick up the phone, email or buy your product?

10. Think visually. Marketing documents are not just words on a page. They should be a roadmap of easily accessible information. Do you have strong subheadings, topic sentences and “signposts” for the reader? Is it as visually appealing as it could be? There’s nothing worse than block after block of text to put readers off. Add engaging photographs, tables, charts, graphs where possible. Beautifully written and structured documents are a gift to your potential customers and existing clients so make them sparkle.

Need a hand pulling your marketing plan together? Call Mags on 087 2070495 or email Margaret@clearink.ie (By the way, this is our call to action so please DO it now.)

It’s a multi-billion euro business with properties and offices throughout the world. The company’s services are used by a huge percentage of the global population and many proudly display – and even promote – its logo. This secretive, privately held organisation has been in business for eons. It has a strong brand and a much-loved image.

Yes, the Catholic Church is perhaps the world’s biggest business. It has a corporate logo, brand values, a service offering, customer promises and a skilled workforce.

The Logo. The crucifix is one of the planet’s most instantly recognisable symbols. The brand doesn’t need product placement opportunities since its logo continues to adorn the neck – and bodies – of some of the world’s biggest celebrities. Mel Gibson, Madonna, David Beckham and many others are closely associated with the logo.

The Brand. The Catholic brand is known for goodness, purity and the highest moral and ethical standards. Jesus Christ founded the company with his entrepreneurial colleagues a couple thousand years ago. Their brand messages and marketing materials – the Bible  – have stood the test of time and gained them many loyal followers.

The Promise. Strict terms and conditions apply to the Church’s spiritual services. Catholics who live a good life by adhering to the rules of the religion – don’t kill, lie, steal, commit adultery or want other people’s stuff but do obey your parents, honour God and make your sacraments – are promised an express trip to heaven when they die. There will be no stopover in Purgatory or extended layover in Hell for loyal customers.

On arrival, clients will be greeted at the Pearly Gates by their guide, St. Peter, and granted entrance to a place of eternal happiness. Newcomers will be serenaded by angels of the heavenly choir and surrounded by all that is good and right. They will meet the people who have died before them and, most importantly, they will have an audience with the Almighty.

The Offering. Before customers can enter heaven they must study and pledge loyalty to the religion through the sacraments. In return, they become part of an international community that strives to do unto others as they would do unto you. The club is highly regarded for its work among the poor and for providing education in many needy nations. Members pay to assist with these good works and to help with spiritual and material needs within their own local communities.

The Reality. Like many large companies that have fallen into disrepute, the brand’s promises are very different from the customers’ experience. As we learned from the Ryan report, also known as the Report of the Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse, the business has been badly broken for a long time. The brand has betrayed its customers and shareholders.

The Catholic Church has been a market leader, and even an innovator, when it comes to the wide-scale abuse of children for business purposes.Our church developed and perfected many modern business and political techniques.

Children’s sweatshops. Children were captive workers who paid for the orders’ holiday homes and lavish meals with blood, sweat and tears plus a good lashing of rape, degradation and dehumanisation.

Creative accounting. Funds given by the government to feed, clothe and house orphans and industrial school detainees were not entirely used for this purpose, a percentage was funnelled into many of the religious orders’ more mainstream schools.

Innovative imprisonment. Children were held against their will on questionable charges such as “wandering”. Thankfully they were not asked to wear orange jumpsuits, just rags.

Generational mind control. Many of our industrial schools, orphanages and mother and baby homes were run under brutal totalitarian regimes. Romania’s orphanages, created by the notorious Nicolae Ceausescu, bear a striking resemblance to the Irish system. Pierre Poupard, the head of Unicef in Romania, told the BBC that the orphans were a “lost generation” – closeted away from society, often malnourished and subjected to physical and even sexual abuse.

Would Jesus Christ be happy to wear the church’s logo now?

The shareholders of this failed corporation – its parishioners – should call an annual general meeting and demand that the executives explain themselves and atone for their actions in words, deeds and cash.

Margaret E. Ward is a journalist and managing director Clear Ink.

Western society has hang-ups about ageing, and older people are often invisible or ignored.

Fianna Fáil TD Mary O’Rourke, one of the more senior members in the Dáil, was being asked for her advice to older people running for politics last Monday.

Thankfully, O’Rourke did not have a “senior moment”, the American expression for forgetfulness or a momentary blanking of the mind, as she replied. The political veteran – whose BER energy rating, if she were a house, would be just fine – replied that her genetic make-up meant she was not a delicate person and had lots of energy.

Obviously, the RTÉ reporter did not ask the question with any malice, but the throwaway comment reflects Irish society’s casually expressed, but deeply ingrained, views of the aged. We assume that anyone over 50 is slowing down, putting on a robe and slippers, obsessing about health problems, the weather, Daniel O’Donnell and preparing to die.

These ideas translate directly into the workplace and society. The third-highest number of complaints to the Equality Tribunal last year – 82, up from 41 in 2007 – involved age discrimination. This bias may range from something as subtle as refusing an employee’s training course request because they might not be around much longer to outright abuse due to the person’s age.

Some of Ireland’s best thinkers – business leaders, entrepreneurs and politicians – are over 55. Can you imagine Dermot Desmond, Martin Naughton, Margaret Heffernan, Feargal Quinn or Jackie Healy-Rae willingly packing it in because they’d reached a certain birthday?

Western society has hang-ups about ageing, and older people are often invisible or ignored. How often do you see the over-55s represented in the media, advertising or entertainment industries?

By contrast, Asian society is renowned for its reverence for older people. RTÉ’s Margaret Ward, who has been stationed in China for a few years, told me older people there are quite visible and active in society, since they retire quite early. “You see them in parks a lot, doing tai chi, playing cards and mahjong, doing ballroom dancing, group sing-songs and using public gym equipment.”

So, where do our beliefs come from? We’ve probably been overly influenced by advertising research. Marketing executives believe older people are more set in their ways so they are less likely to spend money, change brands or try something new. The golden demographic – 18- to 34-year-olds – are lusted after for their spendthrift ways.

As the recession deepens, however, marketers are changing their views. The New York Times reported last month that there is an increasing interest in marketing goods and services to consumers aged 50 and older. “Among those aiming more at the older demographic are giants like Chrysler, Kraft Foods, L’Oréal, Procter Gamble and [retailer] Target,” the paper said.

It’s not altruistic; they’re just following the money. Baby boomers have entered their later years and they’re not dropping like flies. Life expectancy in Ireland is increasing. According to the Central Statistics Office, men’s life expectancy is 76.8 years (up 1.7 years) and women’s life expectancy is 81.6 years (up 1.3 years) in the most recent data.

There are probably more “active retired” individuals than the widely characterised sick, doddery pensioners waiting for the Grim Reaper. Although Ireland has one of the EU’s younger populations, with just 11.5 per cent of us over 65, this is set to rise to 26 per cent by 2011.

Seniors are having their moment. During the medical card protests last autumn, one campaigner said: “They underestimated the generation that marched for civil rights in the 1960s, marched for tax reform in the 1980s and march in the noughties for the right to a decent health service.”

Eighty per cent of all older people voted in the last election, and a new political party has been formed. John Wolfe (71) launched the Seniors’ Solidarity Party this week to lobby on issues of concern for the over-50s and their families.

We’re all 21 in our heads, and most people over 55 do not feel old. New website EveryMonday.ie, which I edit, found that 80 per cent of 500 people over the age of 55 who were surveyed believed 80 years of age, not 65, was old. So, 80 is the new old and there’s a lot of living to be done in our last 30 years.

It’s time we all question our attitudes and ask: what role do older people play in our society, in our businesses and in our personal lives?

Margaret E Ward is a journalist, blogger and managing director of Clear Ink

The reason you should take note is that the number of advertisements are dwindling. When this happens, it has the potential to weaken our democracy and to further diminish our standing in the international business community. This is not as far-fetched as it might sound.

Media outlets traditionally obtain the bulk of their income from advertising. The retail price, subscription or licence fee only goes a small way to covering expenses. When a sharp decline in advertising occurs, as it has over the past couple of years, media companies need to cut costs and, ultimately, staffing levels.

Many Irish newspapers and radio stations have announced voluntary redundancies for journalists and, in the last week, a dozen or so staff members from TV3 were laid off. Big deal, right? Lots of people are losing their jobs.In a healthy democracy, journalists should act as a check and balance on the legislative, executive and judiciary branches of government. In addition to reporting the events of the day, they have a duty to investigate potential wrongdoing by those in power – in business, government and society.

Good investigative journalists are moral watchdogs with a sensitive nose for corruption, graft, cronyism, abuse of influence and power and much more.

Even so, investigations take time and lots of money. Traditionally, newspapers broke many of the big stories and radio and TV stations followed up on them. Recently – as newspapers’ advertising revenue dried up – the appetite for expensive investigative series (and potential legal actions) has diminished.

Over the past few years, television programmes like Prime Time and special RTÉ news reports by Charlie Bird and George Lee have filled some of the void. These TV investigations are no longer a certainty now that the editorial independence of the national broadcaster has been called in to question.

RTÉ’s strange apology for running a news item on the satirical painting of King Brian (sorry, the Taoiseach) in the National Gallery raises a very big issue. If RTÉ caved in on a simple thing like a painting then what other news items, or investigations, will they axe?

Print, broadcast and online media face several other problems when trying to meet their watchdog brief. Redundancies and layoffs mean many of their senior staff will leave – taking their long memories and years of experience with them.

Journalism is now a freelance world. Staff journalists are the exception rather than the rule at many newspapers and radio stations. This is the biggest threat of all to an independent, effective media. The rise in freelance journalism directly impacts on investigative reports. The Huffington Post, America’s famous blog turned internet newspaper, is so concerned about it that it launched an investigative report fund on Monday. The €1.75 million initiative, designed to fund freelance and staff journalists’ investigative reports, is asking for ideas and CVs.

Founder Arianna Huffington said layoffs at newspapers were hurting investigative journalism at a time the nation’s institutions need to be watched closely.

The same applies in Ireland. Print freelancers can only make a living if they crank out a high volume of well written articles. The rate for freelance work has not improved much in the last 10 years, so it’s really a numbers game. If you were a freelance journalist, would you take the risk of investigating and reporting a scandal?

Staff positions for talented freelance journalists are as rare as hen’s teeth so freelancers would be fools not to ask themselves a few questions: will I be paid for all the time I spend on this investigation? What happens if the scandal leads to a lawsuit in which I am named? Will this potential outcome impact on my ability to earn a living as a journalist?

Freelancers have less protection from legal action, or loss of income, than staffers if they publish a story that someone finds unfavourable.

Ireland’s international reputation is in tatters thanks to strange goings on in business, government and regulatory circles. Now, more than ever, we need a strong investigative media committed to shining a light in all those dark places. Who dares to fund it?

Our lovely interviewer Noel said we’d just have a nice discussion but
it quickly turned into a row. I suggested that the government’s
inaction was a dangerous decision and that it had far reaching
consequences. “Nero fiddled while Rome burned and so is this
government. ” Paraphrasing it I basically said this was
an emergency and that we were at war for our economic survial. It was
time for unity. The time for party politics is over. We all need to
come together, start talking to the social partners and make cuts
across the board. Why isn’t the Financial Regulator organisation in the dustbin? All senior bank management still not gone?

People are frightened – they’re losing their jobs, emigrating, huge
numbers of small businesses are failing with banks refusing to make
loans…They need some hope.” I asked him loads of questions and asked
him what they were doing about it. Why weren’t they asking for help
from the extraordinarily intelligent experts we have in this country?  Why weren’t they communicating a plan to the people?

He was furious and completely disagreed that people were losing their
jobs in large numbers and emigrating to find work. Some of this was cut from the programme including his statement that  ”My daughter is
going to Australia for the experience” She was not forced to emigrate.
(One of the lucky few, I imagine who can afford that kind of trip!)

I then pointed out that it was ridiculous that according to
Wednesday’s papers a bank (that we have now recapitalised) refused to
give a €3,000 loan to a business – with a substantial amount of cash
behind it – to save a dozen or more jobs. He implied that many of the
small businesses going out of business are not worth saving. (Wow!!!!!
The lifeblood of this country is not worth saving?). Check out the stats on insolvencyjournal.ie. Things are getting much,much worse but it’s not being reported.

Apparently, I was also a “populist” and he could not believe that the
Irish Times employed someone with views like mine! When did populism – listening to the people – become a dirty word in Fianna Fail?

I do not think Mr Mansergh – who is a highly intelligent person with
an excellent track record on the North – likes to be questioned about
anything. In my experience, he is an elitist who lives in a rarefied
world. He does not think citizens should have a voice or that
journalists have a right to ask hard questions and expect answers. He
also way out of his depth in finance and seems to have little
understanding of the economic issues we now face. Does this frighten
you? It sure as hell frightens me.. who is running the country?

At the end of the interview, he stormed off the set knocking over his
water saying he could not believe I worked for the Irish Times. For
more fun from this week’s experience see the post Students’ advice for the
government.

If you are not extremely angry about what is going on then you should be. Ireland will be bankrupt in about 12 months. We are burning through about €1 billion or so a week. Internationally, Ireland Inc. is viewed as corrupt country where cronyism is rife and that’s accurate. Are you happy with that reputation? I’m not. It’s embarrassing. We ALL have to inform ourselves about the FACTS and then take action – quickly.

Year 2010: Tumbleweed blows through the empty streets of the International Financial Services Centre. The once proud little place in the wild west of Europe is almost abandoned. A few nervous survivors squint through cracked glass at the young, fair-haired woman outside. She is wearing sandals and walking carefully through the bank statements and construction dust swirling around her.

“Hello. Is anyone there?” the tanned blonde shouts at the large buildings. A shrouded, emaciated figure scurries down the steps, grabs her hand and pulls her roughly inside.

“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear you,” says the old woman.

The girl is visibly shaken. “What happened here? Who are you? Who are they?”

“I am Cathleen and this is a damned place. You shouldn’t be here. Go now – while you can.”

“Wait. I’m so confused. My name is Sorcha. I used to work here, but I left for Australia in late 2008. That was only two years ago!”

Cathleen: “Much has changed. A great gang of bandits swept through the land. We were all robbed blind – in broad daylight – and the populace is very frightened and incredibly broke.”

Sorcha: “What about the sheriff and the governor? Why aren’t they doing anything about the outlaws?”

Cathleen: “The sheriff disappeared when things got tough and the governor …”

The old woman bares her teeth in a growl.

Sorcha: “Omigosh. Why did you make that horrible face?”

Cathleen: “He’s locked away in a big building in the city centre. They say he’s very unpredictable. One minute he’s singing Frank Sinatra’s My Way and the next he’s mumbling ‘what’ll we do, what’ll we do?’ in a small, trembling voice.

Sorcha: “There must be more of you than there are of them. Why don’t you all get together and do something about it?”

Cathleen: “Well, laws don’t apply to the white collar gang or the brown envelope brigade like they do for us citizens. Anytime we try to have a voice – on equality, democracy, consumer rights and government accountability – we are silenced. Besides, there’s no fight in us now. Personally, I have nothing left.” She stretches her arms wistfully around the room.

Sorcha: “Don’t tell me you live here? It’s an old bank branch, not an apartment!”

Cathleen: “The wealth was taken from me. My four beautiful overseas properties had to be put up for auction. My pension is gone.”

Sorcha: “Someone must be able to help. Where is everyone?”

She moves towards the door.

Cathleen: “Be careful; there is a hard wind outside.”

She looks into the distance, catching a memory. “The people needed a leader, but no one came.”

Sorcha: “There is always hope. America maybe?”

Cathleen: “No. They have problems of their own. Perhaps? Hmm. There was a legend told in 2009 about a mysterious stranger who would ride in from the Border to save the day.”

Sorcha: “Tell me more. Can I phone or e-mail this person?”

Cathleen: “Impossible. You’ll never get through. In desperation, we tried his favourite form of communication last week – a full-page newspaper ad. Here. We’re still waiting for a sign.”

Sorcha opens the folded page and reads it out loud “Wanted: Maverick gunslinger to eradicate citizens’ enemies.”

Cathleen: “They say he’s a businessman, a frontiersman and a cattle rancher. He wears the striped shirts and heeled boots that are the marks of his clan. Most Dublin people won’t even cross over into that cowboy’s county – Westmeath – for fear of getting the chop.”

Sorcha: “He sounds frightening.”

Cathleen: “Maybe so, but the myth says he’s also very efficient at eradicating waste and wasters. He makes quick, tough financial decisions and carries them through.”

Sorcha: “You make him sound like Superman. No one can fix everything overnight.

“Shouldn’t you all be taking responsibility for what the Government is doing, or not doing, with your money? You still pay taxes. It is your money after all.”

Cathleen: “We know nothing. We see nothing. We point fingers. We do nothing. We will be remembered for nothing. We are waiting . . . for something.”

Sorcha: “I’ll go then. May I have your shroud? It is cold out. I’ll go back to Oz while you wait for a gunslinger, any gunslinger, to answer the call.”

Sorcha walks out into the grey evening, her stooped shoulders giving her the walk of a defeated old woman.

Margaret E Ward is a journalist and managing director of Clear Ink