01.23.07
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 1:54 pm by Sarah
ok ok, so the geeks warned me, and I wouldn’t listen. Still not using Firefox and I don’t have a Mac. ANYWAY.
I use MSN Live Messenger. In the past few weeks a problem has arisen. I can start conversations with my contacts, but they can’t with me. They can see that I am online, but the messages cannot be delivered. Once I initiate the conversation everything works fine.
Its weird and annoying. I have checked all the usual things and am deeply suspicious this has something to do with my recent installation of IE7.
Any tips?
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Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 9:31 am by Sarah
Losing things is the worst.
I can’t find the digital camera. I feel sick.
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01.22.07
Posted in Sunday Times Columns, Uncategorized at 9:21 pm by Sarah
A bad blogging practice I know..sparse posts for days and then a glut.. but anyway
Following on Eddie Hobbs advice, I got my house insurance notice from Allianz for a whopping (imho) €734. We pay it, like most people, through our mortgage providers EBS. I went online and got a quote from Hibernian, who insure our car, and got a new quote of €520. I rang the EBS the next day and announced my discovery. They did their best and added a 5% discount but other than that, refused to match. So my house is now insured with Hibernian.
Aren’t I a good little housewife really?
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Posted in Feminism at 9:17 pm by Sarah
Someone mentioned his column to me today in the “what’s he on?” tone, but having read it, I think its great/hilarious. Wheel clamping as deprivation of liberty. I reproduce for those without the required sub…
I think Owen Keegan is following me. Years ago, I pretty much discontinued going into Dublin because of Mr Keegan’s introduction of wheel-clamping to the hitherto congenial streets of Dublin.
Occasionally, I broke my resolve. On one such occasion, when I went into the city to pick up my infant daughter, I got clamped on South William Street. I parked in a designated parking bay for about seven minutes while I went to a nearby cafe to have her bottle heated. I had no change for the meter but, it being nearly 6pm on a Saturday, made a run for it.
When I returned, the sad souls from Control Plus had begun their sordid work. Pleas and explanations were ignored. I had no credit cards and almost no money. Had a friend not been in the vicinity, I’d have been stuck there for hours, unable to get my child.
I can reveal that my virtual elimination of trips into Dublin following this outrage was the true cause of the demise of Bewley’s cafes. Since then, I have made my home in Dún Laoghaire, where I sink my lattes in Harry’s cafe on the main drag. Once a drug-infested backwater, Dún Laoghaire has lately become a miracle of cosmopolitanism, with the Pavilion development in particular opening up a previously dormant connection between town and harbour and exhibiting a “Mediterranean” demeanour when the sun shines.
The only downside has been the introduction of draconian parking restrictions, not just in Dún Laoighaire town, but also in the satellite towns of Monkstown, Blackrock, Sandycove, Glasthule and Dalkey. There is virtually no free parking left anywhere, and two sets of traffic wardens patrol the streets seeking victims.
There has consequently been a visible deterioration in the town’s commercial life, most notably in the main shopping centre, where several units remain closed. Nevertheless, DúLaoghaire remained prosperous and agreeable.
But then came Owen Keegan. It was clear from his appointment as head of traffic with Dublin Corporation that Mr Keegan did not like motor vehicles or their drivers. He introduced a series of traffic restrictions in Dublin with no purpose but to drive drivers mad.
Once, for example, you could turn right from George’s Street on to Dame Street. At a stroke of Mr Keegan’s pen, this simple manoeuvre was arbitrarily outlawed, and anyone wanting to access College Green from George’s Street had to detour around Christchurch and up the quays. In any other context, such stupidity would be seen for what it is, but Mr Keegan was knowingly playing to a gallery of bicycle-clipped commentators guaranteed to hail every attempt to stick it to the motorist, regardless of legality or sense.
Now county manager of Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown, Mr Keegan recently announced the introduction of wheel-clamping for drivers who neglect to pay parking fines. Apparently, 40 per cent of fines remain unpaid because the courts are snarled up. There are those who piously intone that the law must be upheld at all costs, but there are bad, stupid and inhumane laws which the citizen is duty-bound to flout, and such a law is wheel-clamping. I use the word “law” in its loosest sense.
Mr Keegan recently boasted to the newspapers that he had created a bylaw that enabled him to introduce clamping without reference to the council chamber. Translation: he has found a way of circumventing democracy and imposing on the people of Dún Laoghaire a sanction which their public representatives have many times declared would never be introduced. Undoubtedly, the fines issue is just a pretext to introduce routine clamping by the back door.
Towns like Dún Laoghaire are under grave threat from shopping malls which have all the advantages of urban space and few of the downsides. In Dundrum Town Centre, just 15 minutes down the M50 from Dún Laoghaire, you can park for three hours for just €2. Although the lure of Starbucks and TGI Friday’s is scant competition for Harry’s Thai chicken noodle soup, the risk of having your car clamped for the sake of a five-minute meter overrun might swing it for enough people to make a serious difference to Dún Laoghaire.
I recently noted speculation to the effect that wheel-clamping might soon be struck down by the European Court as a fundamental attack on the human rights of citizens. This has yet to be tested, but I’d be surprised if the outcome of such a case did not invite Mr Keegan to stick his clamps where the sun don’t shine.
In a modern society, a motor car is, for better or worse, an extension of the self, an essential means of getting about and taking care of business and responsibility. To clamp the motor vehicle of a citizen, therefore, is tantamount to withdrawing that person’s liberty for the purpose of revenue collection.
It is unthinkable that even Mr Keegan’s talent for undemocratic legislation could succeed in the reintroduction of the stocks, and yet citizens stand disconsolately by as this menace to society introduces by stealth a tyranny just as immobilising of personal liberty, and therefore equally monstrous.
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Posted in Domestic/Relationships at 7:35 pm by Sarah
I contributed to a discussion on Machiavelli today on the Ryan Tubridy show on Radio 1. Click here and fast forward to about 42 minutes. I must say, Ryan is an exceedingly nice person.
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01.21.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:25 pm by Sarah
How amazing! Hot on the heels of my invitation to speak at The Hist, PO’Neill draws my attention to this report on CNN in which The Phil features heavily (click on the “no chance in hell link) . Congrats to them! (and I’m even an Hon. Mem – very proud).
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Posted in Domestic/Relationships, Irish Politics at 6:02 pm by Sarah
Note: Normally I would post the column as it appeared in de paper, but this is my copy as submitted to the ST. For some reason the online ST hasn’t included any of the regional editions today. There were some minor edits/improvements made to the published version.
A friend of mine worked as a nurse in Saudi Arabia in the early 1990′s. She remembers a female patient with a curable kidney problem. The woman’s husband refused consent for the treatment and dragged her screaming from the hospital. My friend begged the hospital management to intervene since this woman was going home to certain death. The senior doctor shrugged his shoulders and said there was nothing they could do: they had to respect the local culture. The man had more than one wife and didn’t want to pay to keep this one alive. She died a few weeks later and my friend packed her bags and came home. Participating in a system which rated women beneath animals wasn’t worth the tax-free salary.
I thought of that incident listening to the row over the photograph of the two Mary’s, Hanafin and Coughlan, which appeared in the press last week. They were looking grumpy in their pastel pashminas on the trade mission to Saudi Arabia which caused some to express moral outrage on their behalf. Was it possible that the women were being ignored by the Saudi officials? They protested loudly that this was not the case. There wasn’t a word about how Saudi women are treated : just a panic that our two Ministers weren’t let into the official photographs. As usual there is no way to deconstruct truth from spin, but their line of defence told a whole other story. Minister Coughlan’s excuses were pathetic while Minister Hanafin’s were simply ignorant.
Coughlan assured us that everything was fine because she was going to meet the King in the desert the next day. “He doesn’t do many such meetings. That is a reflection of Ireland’s status and ours”, she said. The desert! Fancy that. What a relief to know that the Irish are held in such a high esteem that they are brought on a day trip to the desert to meet the King. Were there flying carpets and exotic tents? Did she see a camel? Was it just like Tales from the Arabian Nights? She didn’t happen to notice the native women being transported on the back of pick-up trucks while the family goat rode up front with the men?
While Coughlan was swept away by the prospect of meeting an authoritarian King in whose country human rights are non-existent, Hanafin’s remarks exposed an off-the-cuff arrogance that is the hallmark of the current government. Claiming that she had been treated as an equal she insisted “I went to an all-girls’ school and a college that trained only men for the priesthood, so I know all about segregation”. Come again? How does attendance at a single-sex school equate with the appalling treatment of women in Saudi Arabia? Remember, they aren’t allowed drive, occupy only 5% of the workforce and can’t go out without a male escort.
They are entitled to education, but their version of segregation is a little deadlier than that experienced by Hanafin when she did her BA in Maynooth. For example in March 2002, 15 girls burned to death in a fire in a school in the holy city of Mecca. The local religious police prevented the firemen from saving the girls because they weren’t wearing their abayas, the full length black robes which are mandatory wear for women in Saudi. The police actually beat back some of the girls while the school watchman wouldn’t open the gates to let them out.
What does it tells us when Mary Hanafin claims her Presentation Convent secondary school in Thurles taught her “all about segregation” when the Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice preferred girls burn to death rather than be seen or touched by men?
It tells us two things. First, that the current cabinet is deeply ignorant about any experience outside of their own cosy little existence. If life is good for them, then it must be good for everyone else. Second, once there is money on the table, nothing else matters. Hanafin’s comments didn’t attract the remotest censure, though her announcement that 500 Saudis will study in universities here next year got some good cover. Saudis attending Irish universities is, according to her “an attractive revenue source for the colleges”. Non-EU students are charged anything between €10,000 and €36,000 in annual fees in Irish colleges, so she’s right there. The Exchequer is swimming in money which could adequately fund our universities but she’s prepared to trip over herself defending the exemplary behaviour of a regime which organises public beheadings in Chop-Chop Square every Friday.
It’s vile but then again just part of our long history of dealing with despicable regimes.
Ireland has traded with Iraq, Iran, and Libya. We’re leading the pack out to China and of course, we won’t be inspecting any planes in Shannon for fear we’d find a prisoner on his way to be tortured. It’s not so much Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, as Don’t Give a Toss.
There is an argument to be made that the best way to improve conditions for those who live under repressive governments is to do business with them. Through such trade an opportunity arises for democratic governments to put pressure on oppressive regimes. Did we put any such pressure on the government of Saudi Arabia? Not on your nelly.
Asked about such concerns on Thursday, Bertie Ahern’s defence was that since the UK deal with Saudi, then it was alright for us to do so too. I have one word for the Taoiseach: BAE. Does he know or care about the massive bribes made by that company to secure contracts with the Saudis? How that money went to support a decadent lifestyle for the hypocritical Saudi royal’s who amputate limbs for minor crimes at home while living it up at the Ritz in London? When in Rome, indeed.
Imagine if either Mary had responded thus to the query that they had been sidelined. “No, we weren’t being ignored by the Saudi officials and in fact we are meeting the King tomorrow. We will forcefully make the case to him that our elevation to high office shows that women can and should take part in a country’s political life and that Ireland’s continuing friendship is dependant on the improvement of Saudi Arabia’s human rights’ record. If they’d stop the beheadings, that would be a good start”. But of course, they’d never say that. That would mean the people elected to represent our country possessed moral fibre, courage and compassion for the oppressed. We wouldn’t be stupid enough to elect anyone like that, would we?
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01.17.07
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 8:00 pm by Sarah
I am forming a huge post in my head about the sustained attack in the broadsheets on the opposition, but that will have to wait until I can sit down here for more than 30 minutes without interruption.
In the meantime…whilst showering this morning, yet again I marvelled at the economy of using one of those scrunchy exfoliator thingies. You put one teency drop of shower gel on them (say, 20c piece?) and it scrubs into a great lather. If you just use your hands or a cloth you have to use much more to get the same sudsy effect. My bottle of Johnson’s moisturising shower creme which combats the 3 signs of dryness is lasting ages!
See, agonising about the opposition and contemplating the little things in life. It’s no wonder I am dazed and confused and can’t multiply or divide in my head anymore. I really have to concentrate hard and think about it now to figure what 30/5 is. I did work it out, but it took longer than it should have.
Oh but sincere thanks to Sue Jameson , Part-time trainer of Breastfeeding Counsellors for Cuidiú – Irish Childbirth Trust who in an interview with The Irish Times on Tuesday, when asked who made her laugh replied “Jeremy Clarkson and Sarah Carey in the Sunday Times do the trick”. Hurrah!!!! In same breath as world renowned (and I suspect better paid than me!) columnist. I am quite thrilled 
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01.16.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:49 am by Sarah
I have accepted an invitation to speak at The Hist in TCD on February 14th proposing the motion “That the Official Languages Act is a waste of resources”. I haven’t spoken in the GMB in 14 years!! Looking forward to it immensely. Now what was the address again? “Mr Chairman, Mr Auditor, Ladies and Gentlemen of the College Historical Society, Ladies and Gentlemen…..”. Great fun. Eamon O’Cuiv is speaking too. Fantastic. An FF minister. I can look him in the eye and vent.
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01.14.07
Posted in Domestic/Relationships, Feminism at 3:37 pm by Sarah
There are some things in every domestic partnership that are non-negotiable. Top of my list is paying the VHI bill.
Though I have a weak sense of entitlement, I have a highly developed nose for disaster. So despite my husband’s disgruntlement, I make sure that our private medical insurance gets paid along with other essentials such as the electricity bill and the phone. Then Maeve Binchy upset everything.
It started when two friends fell ill last year. There were dramatic scenes involving ambulances and near-death experiences, but both have been restored to full health. They were lifelong members of the VHI, but were treated entirely through the public system, for which they had only the highest compliments. Each resolved afterwards to dump the expense of private medical insurance.
It was the first time either had been ill and they had discovered that the public system, despite reports about front-line medical staff being overstretched, actually worked rather well. Indeed, when they asked if being VHI members conferred any benefits, they were assured it wouldn’t improve their treatment in any way.
I acknowledged their experiences, but remained bound to my medical insurance. My fear of waiting lists overwhelms, despite the heroic efforts of the public system to cure my sick friends. Dumping the VHI seemed rash, and since both friends have a stubborn streak I dismissed their egalitarian declarations on healthcare as a knee-jerk reaction to getting lucky.
Then Maeve Binchy appeared, not in a dream, but at a public clinic in Dun Laoghaire one of my friends attends. He has described it as “an anteroom to the graveyard, where the lame and the halt predominate and the criminally understaffed facility winds its weary way through them”. Usually he has to wait an hour for his weekly blood test.
One week, just as his turn came, Binchy swept into the clinic, was greeted by the nurse manager and ushered away for her test. He was torn between being impressed that she would attend a public clinic and extreme annoyance that she appeared to be getting personal and immediate attention. Waiting is bad enough, but waiting when you think others don’t have to is particularly galling. His newly discovered love affair with the public health system was in danger of ending, as all affairs do, badly.
I felt sorry for Binchy. Since she is well known, her daily goings-on are easily observed and judged by strangers. Nevertheless, I felt obliged to ask her about this potential abuse of a public facility. She assured me that, like my friend, she found the public system surpassed the private one and attended the clinic regularly. On that particular day she had a minor emergency that required urgent attention. Normally, she queues with everyone else.
So, presumably, if my friend had a similar emergency, he would be allowed to skip the queue as well. His trembling faith in the system was somewhat restored when I told him.
And if such a great and good member of the establishment as Binchy can cheerily attend a public clinic, why on earth am I still paying the VHI? For years, any time I tried to make a claim it came up with obscure bureaucratic reasons to refuse me.
About two years ago things began to change. The VHI started to cover out-patient expenses and visits to GPs and therapists. In the absence of any serious acute illness, I began to get a tiny return for the enduring expenses arising from my relatively minor health problems.
Why the change in policy? Competition, of course. I didn’t have to leave VHI and join Bupa. The mere fact of Bupa’s presence meant that VHI sharpened up its act. It’s a bit like the cheap flights you can now book on Aer Lingus. I can’t stand Ryanair and all those add-on charges, but thanks to Michael O’Leary I can fly on a nice state airline at rock-bottom prices.
Bupa is now being forced out of the Irish market due to the enormous risk-equalisation payments it will be required to make to the VHI. Once again we face a practical monopoly, and a bad service. There is talk of Axa taking over, but I can’t see Bupa selling its business to a competitor. Anyway, Axa will probably only agree to enter the Irish market if it gets three years’ grace on the risk-equalisation payments and the VHI will oppose that tooth and nail. Mary Harney, the health minister, will make every effort to maintain competition. After all, it’s a core value for the Progressive Democrats. But, overall, the prognosis doesn’t look good.
So it appears that all I have to look forward to are ever- increasing premiums with no market pressure to force VHI to continue to improve its services. So why not leave and join Maeve and my friends in the public system? I might have done so had I not heard the letter from Rosie, the pseudonym of a person who wrote to RTE’s Liveline. In the summer of 2005 her doctor asked a local hospital to give her a sonogram and colonoscopy after long-term digestive complaints worsened and she began to bleed. She was finally called for the colonscopy on February 28 last year, and a tumour was found. Rosie had surgery, but the cancer has spread beyond her bowel. She has been told she has as little as two years to live.
Rosie is convinced her cancer would have been diagnosed sooner and treated successfully if she’d had private insurance. I think she’s right.
She knows of a patient with private health insurance who got a colonoscopy within three days. “When I heard that a very nice man who was in the same, if not worse, condition than me when he went to his GP is going to live because he had private health insurance and I’m going to die, because I didn’t, I had to bite my tongue,” Rosie said. “I’m happy he’s going to live. He deserves to. But so do I.”
That’s why I pay the VHI bill. I am not prepared to die slowly while I wait for a simple test in the public system. If I can get a diagnostic test in three days while Rosie waits for seven months, then I’m queue-jumping.
Private insurance is simply a way of skipping ahead officially. It’s wrong, but faced with a choice between living or dying with a clear conscience, I choose life.
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