There's truth in the adage 'the dirty Irish'

This column appears in this week's INM Irish regional newspapers.

By Michael Commane
The clocks have gone forward. It’s bright at 06.00 and stays so until after 20.00. Daylight time is galloping and the gods in the sky will keep up that momentum until mid-June when it all begins to work in reverse order.

These have to be the best days of the year. We have had a great run of good weather. I went swimming in Dublin’s Seapoint last Sunday week. There were about 20 of us in the water and there were crowds sitting about. And it was March 25.

I have really been looking forward to this Spring, the long days and hopefully some good weather. Turning off the central heating and spending less on heat is to be celebrated. But it’s never really as simple as that.

How come that every single time there is the possibility of things getting better and improving we have that incredible knack of screwing it all up? It baffles me.

On St Patrick’s Day the trout fishing season began on the River Dodder in Dublin. As a child I fished on the river and caught the occasional eel and trout. The river is a fabulous facility serving thousands of people from Tallaght to Ringsend.

These days out walking along the river I note the spots where I did my fishing. I never graduated to fly-fishing. With me it was the simple worm or spinner. The thrill of pulling a trout out of the river was incredible. Indeed, the thought of it these days has tempted me to try my hand at it again.

But what I have seen over the last few weeks has convinced me that I am far better off staying away from the river.

One would think that anyone who goes out fishing is looking for some peace and quiet, the fun of being in touch with nature and then the added value of catching a fish. But it looks as it is not at all as simple as that.

I’m observing large groups of young people, and indeed not so young, arriving with their fishing gear in one hand and large plastic bags in the other, which are filled to bursting point with cans and bottles of beer.

It really is baffling, the idea of mixing beer with fishing. Is the world
gone mad or is it that I am just getting older and even crankier?

And then out walking early in the morning seeing the debris along the bank of the river I can’t help but wonder in anger what at all is happening.

It’s not just can debris; it’s filth of every sort.

Just last Thursday I was walking in a park after work. The rubbish was beginning to build up, plastic bottles, beer cans, assorted dirt. And then the following morning at 06.30 I was back it the same park and it was spotless.

Obviously local authority staff had already been to work, cleaning up the mess. I certainly don’t envy them their job. But then I began to think how much it must cost to do all this work that could so easily be avoided. You and I are subsidizing the litter louts. To see the brand names on the can
litter is a far cry from the sexy advertising drink adverts.

On another occasion I spotted a mobile phone and keys beside cans and bottles strewn about. Later in the day a parent of the phone owner rang the telephone so I was able to return it and the keys. But it did strike me that I was talking to a very articulate person, whom I imagine was middle class. Anti-social behaviour straddles all classes. And yes, the keys and phone were linked to the empty cans.

It really is shocking to think that people see nothing wrong with throwing cans, bottles and assorted rubbish about without giving a thought as to who is going to clean it up. Have we any sense of shame? Have we any idea how much money and effort it costs the taxpayer to clean up after other people’s mess.

Nature keeps giving us wonderful opportunities and some of us are hell-bent to make a dog’s dinner of it.

Sometimes, indeed, quite often, I think there is something in the adage
‘the dirty Irish.

Still, I’m going to keep hoping and enjoying the best time of year.