I will guide you through the hazards of the night

I will hold your trembling hand

Mine the reassuring shoulder

Me the one to understand

 

Nothing asked in recompense

Proud that I could offer help

Stronger bonds empower the friendship

Thoughts of others not of self

 

We shall fight the fight together

Raise our voices, sing as one

‘Til the world around rejoices

Come sweet repose, our day is done

 

RAY DOYLE                       December 2017

A friend of mine has lived the life

He shares it now with his third wife

I saw him just the other day

He didn’t have a lot to say

 

A big weekend, drunk too much red

I really should be home in bed

‘Twas my own fault, expect no mercy

It was our tenth Wedding Anniversary

 

Congrats I said, you’ve done real well

This ones for keeps then, I can tell

He thanked me, said what pleased him more

He’d never lasted ten before

Hello,

My name is Clarence, Clarence C Gull to be precise but you can call me Clarence like all my friends.

Living down here by the sea I have lots of adventures and today I am going to tell you how a very foggy day made me famous.

The night had been a cold one. I was snuggled up warm and cozy in my nest on the top of the cliff. When I woke up the fog was swirling all around me. Everything was still and quiet, that’s how I knew something was wrong. On foggy days the first sound to be heard is the blare of the fo-horn on the Lighthouse.

I waited for a minute, listened some more, still no sound. What could be wrong? Something wasn’t right. I had to fly out at once to investigate.

It took me five minutes fast flying to reach the Lighthouse which sticks up like a big black and white pencil on top of some dangerous rocks. In the old days, many ships got wrecked here and sailors drowned.

All the way I had been listening hoping to hear the familiar booming of the fog-horn but I heard nothing. Was Tommy, the Lighthouse Keeper fast asleep, or was the fog-horn broken?

Every morning I go out to the Lighthouse for breakfast. Tommy, or Albert, the other Keeper, feed me bacon rinds when I fly up to the Light and tap on the wind. Today I went straight to the window and gave it a sharp tap with my beak.

No answer so I hopped around to the other side and tapped again, still no answer. I peered inside, no one there.

Next, I went to the window nearest the bunks. There was Tommy fast asleep. I tapped as hard as I could, ‘Tap, tap, tap.’ Eventually, Tommy sat up in bed and looked towards me. He smiled weakly and beckoned me to come inside, but I couldn’t open the closed window.

I knew that I would have to try all the windows and hope that one would come undone. I went to each one in turn and, with only two more left, found one I could undo. I pulled it open with my beak and was soon sitting on Tommy’ bunk.

‘I’m glad to see you, Clarence,’ said Tommy. ‘ ‘I came on sick in the night and can’t get out of bed and with Albert on shore until tomorrow there’s no one to look after the Light. Do you think you could take a message to the Coastguard for me and raise the alarm?’

I gave him a ‘Caw, caw, of course, I can.’

Tommy took a pad from his bedside table and began writing a message. When he had finished he rolled the note into a tube and put it in my beak. Next minute I was out of the window and flying back to shore as fast as my wings would carry me.

The Coastguard was outside his cottage when I arrived. He looked surprised when I flew straight up to him and started shaking my head to make him see the message I had for him in my beak. He quickly understood and took the note to read.

‘Hang on here a minute Clarence. I’ve got to make a phone call.’

He disappeared inside, and when he came out, he said. ‘You’ve done very well, but there is something else even more important that I want you to do. Will you try for me please?’

I gave him a ‘Caw.’

‘OK. I want you to fly back to the Lighthouse and start the fog-horn. You will need to press a switch. Tommy is too sick to get out of bed and do it himself and we could be stuck here for hours waiting for the fog to clear.

When you get back to the Light, go right to the top. On the wall you will see some switches on the sides of the big grey boxes, the one for the fog-horn is the third box down. Have you got that Clarence?’

I gave him another ‘Caw’ and flew off.

As I arrived, I saw Tommy. He smiled and put his thumb up. He knew I had delivered the message.

Up on top of the Light, I  quickly found the boxes and with a tug of my beak on the third switch the fog-horn started and the whole Lighthouse shook with the noise.

With my job done I went down to Tommy.

‘I always knew you were a smart little chap Clarence, but I never dreamt that you could do all that on your own. I shall have to look out or you will be after my job,’ he laughed.

The fog-horn continued to boom it’s warning to ships to stay clear of the rocks. After a couple of hours, the sun appeared through the haze, and the fog began to clear. As it did. we heard the drone of an approaching helicopter. Soon an Airman climbed the stairs.

‘Air Sea Rescue Tommy, we’ve come to take you off. Albert’s here to take over the Light.

Coastguard rang us as soon as Clarence got there with your message. Goodness knows what disasters might have occurred if he had not been so prompt. He’s a hero and no mistake.’

‘I’m sure he will be pleased to hear that,’ said Tommy.

‘Tell him yourself, he’s right here under my bunk.’

The next minute someone was pushing a bacon rind under the bunk and calling for me to come out. As soon as I did the Airman picked me up and put me in the warm lining of his flying-jacket.

‘You will be coming back in style young Clarence.You deserve a Hero’s Reception.’

Well, you will probably never believe this, but when we got back to shore, there were crowds to greet us. The people cheered, the Lord Mayor welcomed us and read from a roll of paper. )A much bigger one than I had carried). I think it was called a citation. When he finished his speech he gave my feathers a rub, everybody cheered.

Just as they were putting Tommy in the ambulance to take him to the hospital, he called me over, ‘Did you understand what they were saying, Clarence? If not, I will explain.

‘You, Clarence C Gull are the only bird around these parts to be made a Freeman of the City. That means you can go anywhere you like, and people will feed you and look after you because you have been such a brave and clever bird today.’

Tommy was right. I still go to the Lighthouse each morning for the bacon rinds, I also call in at the greengrocers and the butchers and, favorite of all, the cake shop. I go there in the afternoon as they get ready to close. They leave the unsold cakes out on a tray at the back of the shop for my friends and me to eat.

‘Hey, I’ve just had a great idea. Why don’t we go there now and see if there is anything you would like for tea.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I never fail to be astonished by grief.

Some devastating event will occur, and within minutes the world around continues on as if nothing has happened.

I recall my wife’s anger when her Mother died. Anger not at the event itself but the normality that surrounded it.

‘The ocean continues to roll in and out; waves hit the shore, and nothing seems to change yet so much has suddenly changed for all of us who have lost a beloved friend and relative.’ She commented.

Yesterday we lost another beloved friend.

Billy, our Maltese/Silky Cross, had graced our lives for sixteen plus years. I guess he must have decided that his time had come, he just stopped eating and over a period of four days reached a point where he could hardly stand up.

We saw the Vet two days into his fasting. She said that there was little chance of his appetite returning, but we hoped for a miracle. To see that once lively animal reduced to such a sad state forced us into the inevitable decision.

Yesterday morning we sat in the Vet’s ant-room. The Nurse explained the procedure as Hazel cuddled Billy on her lap.

‘I’ll take him into Surgery and prepare him for a needle. There will be two injections, a strong sedative that will ensure he feels no pain and a second to euthanase.’

It all seemed so matter of fact. Did they not appreciate that this was the end of a life  and not some routine car service? We sat there in tears as Billy slept soundly cradled in my wife’s arms.

The Nurse gently lifted him up without waking him. A couple of minutes later he was back, a tube strapped to his front leg. The experienced hands of the Nurse moved swiftly. First, the sedative was linked and delivered and then the coup de grace. A quick check with the stethoscope and the words, ‘He’s gone.’

Billy died the most serene of deaths. His quality of life had deserted him and he had nothing left. I know that if I die as peacefully, I will be content.

What a chasm had been left in our lives. We left the Vet’s devastated at our loss but reassured that we had done the right thing. Now the priority was to return to normality. We went to our local Shopping Centre and commenced the weekly grocery shop, Inevitably we met people we knew who commented on how upset we appeared to be and, of course, we had to give them an explanation.

Then we had to go home and advise our children that Billy had gone and our house would no longer echo to his welcoming bark next time they visited.

Just two old people living normal, even hum-drum lives. Today we don’t feel normal and the atmosphere surrounding us is not the same. the sense of loss is overwhelming. Of course, we know the reality is that life goes on but, without our companion fixture of the last sixteen years it will be a different life.

I share my wife’s sorrow, and I empathize with her feeling of anger. The world should NOT be the same, the waves should take a moment to pause out of respect, that will not happen, and Billy’s memory will fade into an infrequent faded sepia flashback.

For now, though it is raw and real whilst the cherished memories this little black and white dog has given us will become his enduring legacy.

Thank you, Billy.

 

RAY  DOYLE                                                                                           Friday 02 December 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The early morning sun was drying the grass on the lawn outside the Oval Office.

6.30 am, and the place was buzzing with activity. Inside, the President was already at work. He sat crouched over his cell-phone, fingers running over the keys like a demented pianist. Not a moment to lose. The world was anxious for the latest tweet from the White House. Donald Trump was not a man to keep an audience waiting.

Several of his key advisors blended into the background. They sat removed from the Presidential desk awaiting the call. They knew better than to interrupt him when he was tweeting.

Trump swung around in his chair and beckoned Rex Tillerson, Secretary of State, to approach. Tillerson rose and moved to the desk sitting opposite the President.

‘I’ve just tweeted Dennis (Rodman) and asked him to come here. He’s in NYC at the moment. I want you to get Marine Two to pick him up and get him here pronto.’

‘Yes, Mr President. Will there be anything else?’

‘Not for now, no, but you can get Sarah in here as you leave.’

‘Sure.’

Rex Tillerson hurried out. He knew that Trump was up to something, but it would be folly even to enquire at this early stage. He had learned to be patient.

‘Hi Sarah, the Chief wants you in there now.’

‘What’s up Rex?’

‘He’s up to something; just tweeted Dennis Rodman and now I’ve got to get him here from New York ASAP.’

Sarah Huckabee Sanders, Presidential Press Secretary, shuffled her feet, sightlessly seeking the shoes she had slipped off as soon as she had sat down. She gave up and stooped to retrieve the fashionable court shoes. They were new and not worn in. She found them uncomfortable, but they flattered her legs and Trump said he liked them so she persisted.

She strode briskly through the half-open door.

‘Mr President, gentlemen, good morning.’

‘Take a seat Sarah. I want a Press Release prepared. I want it out there at a moments notice, but I want it on ice until I give the word, understood?’

Sarah nodded.

‘Four people, ONLY FOUR PEOPLE, will know about this and if it’s leaked it will be career ending, I promise you.’

The finger met the thumb. The signature Trump ‘Air-nip’ indicated the seriousness of the threat.

‘I’ve asked Dennis Rodman to join us. Hopefully he can be here before lunch, and we can work on a proposal over a burger.’

Trump smiled knowingly to himself, enjoying a private joke.

‘North Korea has gone as far as it can go. Anything from here on in, short of all-out war will mean a loss of face for Kim Jong-un, and he will not tolerate that. What he needs is an alternative strategy, and we have come up with a doozy.

Ambassador Cha in Seoul has been getting reports that the North Korean population nearest the Chinese border are preparing to evacuate. Kim would rather shoot them and the Chinese don’t want them either. It’s a good scenario for this plan to possibly work.

Rodman’s links to North Korea are well known, there is a genuine rapport between him and Kim, and we need to make that work for us.

What I’m proposing is that Rodman contacts Kim and says something like, ‘This is getting worse by the minute. Let’s have one more shot at peacefully restoring better relations through sport and continue the dialogue. I am working on raising a team of NBL Superstars that will come over with me and give the people the treat of a lifetime’.

‘Apparently the only foreign TV sport available to North Korean audiences is English Premier League Soccer, Kim is a Manchester United fan and, Manchester United just happen to be owned by the Glazer family, based in New York. I know them all well and can rely on their support.

If we can get this up and running in the next twelve hours, I think we can blind side Kim Jong-un. Our people in the South will be doing whatever they can to inform the population in the North about what is happening. They too would prefer sport to war and I reckon we could rely on their passive support at least.

Rodman is the key to all this. Those of you who have met him will know that he is as vain as Kim, so make him feel good while he’s around, OK?’

Sarah sat there silently. She thought about ‘Alice in Wonderland and the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party.’ ‘The Donald’s Burger Diplomacy’ seemed on a similar scale. No worries, it was all on her iPhone and ready for downloading come the call.

The Rodman entrance was as orchestrated as he could have wished. A giant of a man, more than two meters tall, he was escorted to the Oval Office by two burly Marines and welcomed by the President with an affectionate bear hug.

After brief introductions, they all moved to a nearby room set out for such meetings. A large table, twelve chairs and a whiteboard were the accoutrements, hot-dogs, burgers, coffee and doughnuts the sustenance.

‘Dennis,’ the President began, ‘we thank you for taking the time to be with us today. To say that we are experiencing ‘interesting times’ is an understatement. Our people are doing everything they can to avoid a confrontation on the Korean Peninsula, but it’s not looking good, not good at all.’

‘I hear you Mr President and will do whatever you want to help in any way I can.’

‘Thank you, I appreciate it Dennis. I knew we could count on you. So here’s my idea.

You know Kim personally; know his personality and how his mind works. He sure as hell won’t listen to me, but maybe he might see some reason if you spoke to him.’

Rodman looked a little uneasy.

‘I can’t just call him on my cell-phone, I’d never get through.’

‘No, I understand that he’s impulsive and so are you, let’s see if he would agree to this. Say you were to get a bunch of your former teammates from the Pistons, Spurs, Bulls and Lakers and announced that you were heading off to play exhibition games in South Korea and that you hoped that Kim might invite you to Pyongyang to play there. Do you think he might buy it?’

The basketball great thought for a minute before answering.

‘I honestly don’t know Mr President. Kim’s an absolute NBL freak, and it could be too big an opportunity for him to pass up. There’s a chance he’d buy it.’

The President smiled.

‘I knew we could count on you. Now let’s look at the detail. You check out who’s available and willing to make the trip. Tell them it will happen within the next ten days. We will announce in Seoul the arrangements for the trip implying that it has been in the works for several months.

You can tell your buddies that they will be looked after financially. I will sign an Executive Order nullifying their Annual Tax Return to zero by way of ‘Thank You’ from a grateful nation.’

Rodman brushed imaginary dust off his colourful pants and tried to look modest.

‘Don’t give up on the idea of contacting Kim yourself. Once he knows that this is on you might get clearance to call him.

Now, if you have no questions, I would ask you to get on with raising the best team you can, and we’ll get to work on making the media aware of our plans. In anticipation, we all thank you.’

A ripple of applause ran around the table as Rodman rose and sauntered to the door where he reunited with his two Marine minders who escorted him back to the waiting helicopter.

The door closed and the President immediately turned to the Press Secretary.

‘Sarah, draft a communiqué to the media telling them that Rodman has suggested a ‘ABL Peace Mission’ to South Korea and is finalizing an All-Star Team to fly out in a matter of days.

Rex, you get onto Victor Cha in Seoul and tell him what’s happening. If we get the slightest hint of a positive response from the North, I will advise Defence Secretary Mattis that our continuing joint exercises with the South Korean forces are on hold.

We can safely assume that info. we get back to Kim quicker than I could tweet it.’

He laughed at his self-deprecating humour, and the mood in the room lifted.

All through the late afternoon and early evening, every channel led their sports news with the story. Dennis Rodman was ‘The Peace Ambassador.’ His talented cohorts were replacing the threat of Hydrogen Warfare with hoops! The man himself, back in NYC had to ask for the sanctuary of Trump Towers so that he could work the phones.

In North Korea, the silence was deafening. Nothing was better than hysterical rhetoric or, worse still, confirmed underground explosions. This silence had the potential to be golden.

Rodman’s powers of persuasion, plus the generous Executive Order promise ensured that more than enough players wanted in. It took some time to cull them down to a reasonable squad size and then to advise the White House.

Meanwhile, the President had been busy himself on the phone to Ambassador Cha advising him of the planned exhibition tour.

‘Get four or five major venues pencilled in Victor. Get dates from them for the next two weeks when they are available. I’m sure that you have people on the ground that can arrange marketing and publicity at short notice.

I’ve spoken with President Moon Jae-in, and he’s right behind this idea. It took a bit more persuasion to get the joint exercises on hold, but he ultimately agreed with it.

Back here, the Air Force will fit out a C-5 Galaxy at the Dover AFB, Delaware to accommodate the players and officials. The whole thing will be kosher. No involvement from CIA or the FBI. If anything were to go wrong, I want us all to come out of it smelling of roses.

I’ve selected the Galaxy for another reason, McDonalds. They’ve got a fleet of mobile kitchens and have offered us six of them to take with us on the trip. They will easily fit on board. If anything is likely to make the population of North Korea envious of our life-style it’s gotta be a ‘Big Mac’ and, if we get the OK to go North, we’ll have the six kitchens parked around the stadium giving burgers away for free!

So that’s the picture, Victor. I hope it works; I think it can and who knows, if it does I might just be facing D. Rodman himself in the next run of Primaries.’

RAY DOYLE     October 16 2017

 

I am commencing my second blog and it’s all down to someone I have never met.

I joined the ‘WordPress world’ just two weeks ago and have been almost paralyzed with inertia since. My Son, an acknowledged computer expert, started me on my first tentative steps but then got called away. Each day I procrastinated the harder it was to start, I needed a secondary source of help.

Here’s where this becomes something of a commercial, it is not intended to be that way, more a testimonial to superb customer service. Here’s the story.

A year and a half ago we switched service provider to Telstra. Three months of abject disruption, no internet and virtually no help was finally resolved. In a heated discussion with a Telstra staffer, I related the litany of false deadlines, offhanded personal contacts and a general feeling that I had made a terrible mistake. ‘We do have support staff on call for a fee,’ he advised. I was amazed at his conceit, having done nothing that had been promised he was now offering me more of the same at an additional cost!

I grudgingly took the brochure and read it when I got home. ‘Telstra Platinum’ promoted itself as the fix-it option for virtually everything that can communicate electronically. As a member of a generation where a spanner was often the answer to repairs, this looked too good to be true but I took the plunge and signed up.

That is the background. On occasions too numerous to mention I have since called the Platinum Service line and been greeted with nothing but professionalism, courtesy and, most importantly, results.

Today is a classic example. Ian, based in Manilla, drew the short straw. His mission, unshackle this dinosaur from his moribund mindset and show him how the modern world communicates.

He set to work with an air of benevolent knowledge that he seemed only too happy to pass on. Even getting access to my computer screen proved to be a bit of a trial as my nervous fingers refused to hit the right keys in response to various log-in codes. Every obstacle was confronted, analyzed and overcome. He even described the process as a tutorial with a two-way flow that saw him picking up tips that he had not thought of before.

WordPress came and went. Facebook was next and then ‘Maestro Ian’ completed the process by ensuring my accounts were linked to a Domain and my iMac and MacBook Air were on the same page.

I guess tonight Ian will go home to his lady and not give this Australian dude a second thought.

For me, I will be forever in his debt for opening up so many new pathways and opportunities.

Telstra has more than redeemed itself in my eyes and Telstra Platinum should be promoted as it’s flagship.