Something In The Air .....

  So; When I first got here, some years ago, I was still able to ride a push bike ~ really good one, as it happens ~ into town. Because, I guess, I was still 'young' and fit enough to make that trip then.

  Dunno. Heart seems to have lost faith in itself since then. In the space of a year more, I just got so fucking winded that even walking up the track was a clear and obvious risk to my health. I was gonna drop dead of a heart attack. Just a matter of when.

  But, no matter. I sold the bike to Pat, for £50. FFS. Bike worth £750, as I recall? Could've been a lot more. I forget, now.

 I worshipped that bike. Cleaned and cared for it like a man possessed. Handed it over to Pat simply because I had no further use for it. He was out of condition too.

  Said he'd ride it. I knew he'd never take care of it though. Never rode it more than twice either. I'll bet it's rotting away in his garage even as I type this. I'd like to buy it back. But, then what? Likely a shadow of what it was, by now. And I don't leave this place enough to need to ride anywhere.

  Anyway; So, there I was, riding into town on that bike. I've glanced up at the sky and seen it: Fucking Chinook 'chopper!  Ye know; Those fuck off big things. Like a green coach with rotors at each end? Army shit! 

I just knew it had to be full of soldiers, bristling with automatic weapons ~ those things are, aren't they? But, why swinging through the blue, summer skies above peaceful Co. Leitrim? Hold that thought .....

 I asked about this. Maybe in town. Maybe of the taxi driver, at some later point. Maybe of Dean O'. And I remember being told, with a shrug;

 " They're shadowing the bank deliveries. "

  When I, obviously, asked, " WTF?! ", it was equally breezily explained to me that; The chopper(s) were full of armed Army personnel. They were monitoring the van, on the ground, which brought the cash to the various banks!

  Like; Fuck!!! But, think about it; Leitrim is 'Cattle County'. It's as Country as it gets. Little roads, hedged in by hedges. Fucking miles of it. Cottages here and there. Fuck all much else, in between. Banks in High Streets. High street being about the sum total of even a medium sized 'town'.

 Fucked if I'd like to be driving round hidden lanes, shit loads of cash in the back. Been there. Done that. All went tits up and I'll never be right again! We didn't have a Chinook either!

 Fast forward a year. Dean O' and I are stop, starting our way through the next county. Longford. Ye'd recognise that place. Much like any other 'small town'. Dirty. Congested. People hurrying by without making eye contact. I fucking hate the place!

  And, suddenly, as we try to turn at the lights? There's some cunt with a fucking machine gun!!!  I shit ye not! Fucking guy's swanning down the middle of the road. Full combat gear. Cammo's. The fucking lot. Michael Ryan eat ye heart out: This boy's the Whole kiddie!

 As I struggle to contain the effects of my own past experience, and stay out of the foot well, none the less, I'm already jibbering at Dean O'.

  " Sure, it's the Army. " He airily informs me. " They'll be escorting the money to the bank ..... Don't be reaching for that fucking camera! Ye don't want to be photographing these boys, or we'll have questions to answer! "

  What? Like; 'Why did ye want to photograph soldiers, fully armed, on the streets of a small enough town, in Eire, amidst the bustle of shoppers going, un fazed, about their day to day business?'.

  Fucking right I did! Make a picture for this place, wouldn't it?  

  I mean; When did You last pop out to visit ye nearest gun shop, and run smack into a bunch of beefy, cammo clad guys, cradling fully automatic rifles, and consider it just part of the fucking scenery?!


 Just had to let that one out. Strange dychotomy; Rural idyl. More tractors than taxi's. Armed soldiers on the streets shadowed by Chinooks above.

 But; No fucker tries to get away with Armed Robbery over here! No sir!