Wheels Within Wheels
I was visited on Friday by the Lyric’s Rachael Herriot to tell me about the play Gap Year which is playing at the moment and until 2nd March 2025. She arrived with, not in, a shiny white people carrier just to emphasise a bit of fun.
When I saw it during it’s last outing at the Lyric, it was one of those plays that makes you laugh out loud but also has a serious side to it, three women in their 60s going on an adventure of a lifetime of ‘castles, coffee and craic’ and that’s the way it begins, two friends sitting on the sofa having tea and chocolate biscuits and coming up with a crazy idea. Kate (Carol Moore) has just lost her husband and Oonagh’s (Marion O’Dwyer) husband has hooked up with a florist called Flora and he wants a divorce. They reckon the best thing is to get away for a holiday together. They invite Roisin (Libby Smyth) who isn’t in top form and needs a break. Where to? A week in a nice hotel in Fermanagh? Maybe go foreign? Or why not jump into the car and have a gap year travelling to every county in Ireland. So starts the adventure.
Libby Smyth, Carol Moore and Marion O’Dwyer in the Lyric production Gap Year.
They set off for Donegal with three small tents and determined to ‘clog’ their experiences. Kate tells Roisin it’s not a clog. “Yes it is, you chat and then log it. It’s a clog.” In Sligo they attend A&E where Oonagh gets her HRT patches and the nurse offers them a comfy bed for the night. Great news but there’s a catch, her father Pat has had a stroke and the three end up looking after him and big hearted as they are, they give their car to the nurse to make her life easier.
Enter the camper van into the picture. Large as life on stage, it takes them on their journey, a journey that touched every member in the audience in one way or another. The play takes shape as the woman talk about their lives, the trials and tribulations of married life, of bringing up children, of loosing a loved one. Of the three, for me anyway, Kate has the strongest storyline grieving for her husband, estranged from her children, fearful of the future. But there’s something brewing with Roisin, little signs of memory loss, and then there’s Oonagh, who says she was a needy child who admits she’s still needy – after all, her man has left her for a florist.
During this journey we visit the shrine at Knock, a drag club in Dublin and in a very moving scene towards the end when the set transforms to take us to New Grange, the perfect place for Kate to come to terms with the loss of her husband.
Roisin finds happiness, Oonagh finds love and Kate finds peace.
Playwright Claire McMahon has written a play to ponder and well worth the second look. She introduces us to three women who spend months together with barely a cross word, who support each other without question, who never get ill. When I first saw Gap Year I wondered could that ever be? Add in a priest, two husbands and bar tender and a gay drag ‘artist’ and drunken nightclub ‘it’ girl and you have a night to enjoy. You might even be inspired to buy a white camper van and head off on your own adventure. If you do, clog it and send the script to the Lyric Theatre!
MEDICARE :- PLAN “G” – NURSING HOME PLAN
Thank you Mr. Marshall for this interesting information.
If you’re an older senior citizen and can no longer take care of yourself and the government says there’s no Nursing Home care available for you, what do you do ? You opt for Plan G.
Our plan gives anyone 65 years or older a gun (Plan G) and four bullets.
You are allowed to shoot four politicians.
This means, of course, that you’ll be sent to prison where you’ll receive three meals a day,
a roof over your head, central heating & air conditioning, cable TV, library and all the Health Care you need.
Need new teeth? No problem.
Need glasses? That’s great.
Need a hearing aid, new hip, knees, kidney, lungs, sex change, or heart?
They’re all covered.
As an added bonus, your kids can come and visit you at least as often as they do now!
And, who will be paying for all of this?
The same government that just told you they can’t afford for you to go into a home.
And… you can get rid of 4 useless politicians while you’re at it.
And now, because you’re a prisoner, you don’t have to pay any more income tax.
Is this a great country or what?
EGGING US ON
There was a very famous shoe shop in Belfast’s Sandy Row. No matter who you were or where you came from this was where parents bought shoes for their children. I was one of those parents. There was the excitement of putting you foot into a cabinet, looking at a screen and seeing all the bones in your foot. We didn’t know that x-rays weren’t the best thing for young bones. One day I took my two primary school children to Reids to get their summer sandals. It was a great outing and the two were excited to see their bones and get their brand new shoes. I was very grateful to the kind and considerate service from Mr. Small. I’d ask his name and instructed Michael and Susie to thank the gentleman who’d been so kind. Once outside my son challenged me: “Mum why did you keep calling him Mr. Small?” I explained it was polite and how people liked to be addressed by their name. “Yes but why did you keep calling him Mr. Small when his said his name was Mr. Little.” At least I didn’t call him Mr. Wee.
Language and how we use it is fascinating. In the 60s a new language was doing the rounds, a sort of code only the knowledgeable could understand. My friend Claire was a past master she would inserted ‘egg’ between every syllable, Maeggry Huntegger for example. There are many variations but this is good when spoken at speed. Now language requires us to forget men and women, (unless you live under the auspices of Donald Trump), so poor Claudia Winkleman might well become Claudia Winklewoman or worse Winkleperson.
Interesting Study
The University of Cambridge have published the results of their study on accents and possible bias within the UK criminal justice system depending on regional accents. “Our findings bring into sharp focus the disadvantage that speakers of some accents may still face in the criminal justice system,” says Alice Paver, from the University of Cambridge.
“Voices play a powerful role in the criminal justice system and police officers, lawyers and juries are all susceptible to judging voices based on stereotypes, whether they’re aware of it or not.” Apparently these stereotypes could affect all parts of the system, from arrest to sentencing and undermine suspects, defendants, also the testimony of witnesses. The standard English accent they suggest is the least likely to behave in criminal ways – except when it came to sexual offences – while the Liverpool and Bradford accents were perceived as the most likely. Belfast and Glasgow accents were rated significantly less likely to behave in criminal ways than almost all other accents!
Apparently the Ministry of Justice declined to comment on the study. Not surprised.
When I first worked on BBC radio a lady from London talked me through the business of broadcasting telling me I wouldn’t make it unless I stopped sounding like the queen! Too cut glass she said, the phone voice thing. My mother had her telephone voice, “Hell-ooo”, she’d warble, reminiscent of Mrs, Bouquet.
Number E-Ate For A Sausage Supper
I corrected a younger member of the family who, when giving her address to a carry-out shop insisted she lived at number ‘e-ate”. I pointed out we lived at number eight but she insisted, “But they don’t understand when I say eight, they understand e-ate.” I was criticised when I was on Radio Ulster, “You start your questions with So,” So I was but I didn’t realise, In fact I think it was a thinking mechanism, a split second to get my thoughts in gear. I seem to have an ear for accents. When I was about four I lived with a posh family in Dublin for a few weeks but was sent home for being bold. Then I was in trouble when I got home and told not to make a fool of the family by talking in a broad Dublin brogue. I was back to ‘Belfastese’ in no time, so I was.
Picking up accents and innuendos and trying to make yourself understood is considered ‘accommodating’. Remember football manager Steve McClaron aping the Dutch inflection when in that country. In Paris with my mother we wanted to buy some tissue paper to wrap a gift but what’s French for tissue paper? My dear mum accommodated by faking a sneeze in the shop assistants face and following up with ‘papier’. We left empty handed. And there’s a definite sign of transatlantic speech these days – Skedul, alections and ree-search amongst them. The upward inflection is popular and have you noticed or do you employ this speech – “You don’t have any HP sauce do you?” A positive negative. Just listen rather than hear, it’s quite fascinating, so it is!
QUIZ TIME
