Thurles Information

“What’s GDPR” asked Mikey.

Myself and Mikey Ryan were above in The Arch Bar and Mikey was scanning a local newspaper with the front page heading stating “Tipperary TD Under Investigation For Breaching His Own GDPR”.

“General Data Protection Regulation” said I, glad to be the scholarly source providing expert and legitimate information in our regular attended licenced hostelry.

“It’s the toughest privacy and security law in the world, drafted by none other than the European Union itself”, I continued, “Why do you ask?“

“Sure it’s all here in the local paper”, said Mikey. “Were you not down at the Friday night retirement dinner for local parish priest Fr Tadgh Willis, last month?” asked Mikey.

“Never mind newspapers, sure paper never refused ink, and to answer your direct question, sure I wasn’t invited to that same event”, said I.

“Neither was I”, said Mikey, “but herself dragged me along, claiming that it was obviously an oversight by the organising committee.”

“I remember hearing Fr Willis was being honoured on his retirement with a dinner, alright, after spending 25 years here in the parish, alright”, said I.

“Correct”, said Mikey, “and a leading local politician, no names, no court marshals, latter a regular attender of funerals and other large congregational gatherings had been chosen to give the toast and to make the presentation, accompanied by that inevitable half hour short speech”.

Alas, according to Mikey, our local politician had gotten slightly delayed by important business in Dáil Éireann on that same Friday evening, so Fr Tadgh was instructed to go ahead and say his own few words, while the guests awaited the politicians arrival.

Mikey closed his eyes, as if in an effort to recall the events of that same evening,” If I remember correctly, Fr Tadgh began …… Ladies and Gentlemen, Reverend Sister, I got my first impression of this Thurles parish from the first confession I ever heard here, some 25 years ago, or so I first thought.
Indeed, I was convinced the Bishop had assigned me to a post in the most sin-ridden place in Ireland.
I remember well the very first person who entered my confessional, who admitted to a litany of serious discretions, e.g. he had stolen a television set; and when questioned by the Gardaí, managed to confuse his investigators;
had stolen money from his parents; embezzled his then employer; had an affair with a colleague’s wife; had sex with their 17 year old daughter on numerous occasions; taken illegal drugs; had several homosexual affairs when drunk; was arrested several times for public nudity and finally infected his sister-in-law with VD.
As you can understand, I was naturally appalled that one man could commit so many awful unchristian acts against his fellow man.
However, as the days went on, I learned that my Church-going congregation were not all like him and I had, in fact, come to reside in a fine Christian parish full of good, generous and loving people.”

“Just as the priest finished his prepared speech and sat down, didn’t the local politician arrive, full of apologies for being late”, said Mikey, “and immediately set about making the community presentation, before giving his spiel”.
“I’ll never forget”, said he, according to Mikey, “the very first day our parish Priest arrived in Thurles. In fact, I had the great honour of being the very first person to visit him in his confessional.”

“So now we know why, over the past few weeks, Tipperary politicians can be observed arsing around the town of Thurles on a Friday, instead of attending to business in Dáil Éireann”, said I, “they don’t want to be late for any Friday community events in the future, which might lead to accidental breaches of GDPR”.

“Correct”, said Mikey, “Two more of the same again, Pat, when you’re ready, and two helpings of Hickory Glazed BBQ’d chicken, no rush”.

“I haven’t seen you for at least a week”, said I, “Were you on holidays?”.
Mikey Ryan was wending his way towards The Arch Bar, through the labrinth of plastic bollards and wire railings on Liberty Square, as I was exiting the same venue.

“Between ourselves”, said Mikey “And this isn’t widely known, I was in hospital down in Limerick, with a suspected broken jaw”.

Not wishing to pry I asked, in jest, “Did you fall off your wallet again?”

“Not at all”, said Mikey, then lowering his voice he related to me a tale from which some men could do worse than pay attention.

“Truth is I was attacked by a woman in an elevator” Mikey stated in low tones.

“Tell me more” says I, “Was she local?”

“Not at all”, said Mikey, “She was from over Nenagh direction possibly; sure I don’t even know her name. Let me finish the story”.
“There was I already going down in the hotel lift on my own, when she got in on the fourth floor. A good lookin well-built bit of fluff, in her 30’s I’d say. She looked at me in silence, with her back to the rear of the elevator”.

Lowering his voice to a whisper Mikey Ryan continued, “I couldn’t help myself, throwing a series of casual glances sideways at her ample boobs, when she said to me curtly “Sir would you please press one”, so I did.”
“The next thing I remember after that”, confirmed Mikey, “was a paramedic crouched over me, in a speeding ambulance; sirens blazing, and this ferocious pain in my swollen left jaw”.

“And how did you explain that to herself indoors”, said I.

“Oh, I told her I fell backwards out of an indoor swing in the hotel”, said Mikey, “while having my photo taken. I said I was holding drink in both my hands, thus restricting my ability to balance and preventing myself from holding the ropes properly“.

“Listen I have to rush”, said Mikey, “I have a terrible thirst and Pat will be calling last orders shortly. Are you sure you won’t wait for one more?”.

“No can’t possibly”, said I, “Herself is gone to Bingo and she is insisting I watch the 11:00pm news and relate, when she returns, why Kate Middleton didn’t bond with Meghan Markle.”