REIWA - A WORD FROM POETRY FOR ALL OF US

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

On Monday 1 April, 2019, I was on a coach with about two dozen others travelling from the Tokyo Prince Hotel to Mount Fuji. Our guide, Rumi, was very informative and entertaining about her city and country. She was fun. She taught us how to count from 1 to 10 in Japanese and a handful of useful phrases, some harder to say than others.

At a couple of points on the road, we caught glimpses of snow-topped Fuji but as we got closer the clouds rolled in and the mountain disappeared. No matter, we saw it and that's what counts. Our stopping place was at the base of Mount Fuji and Rumi kindly told us that we could claim to be standing on the sacred ground. It was a great morning.

On the way, she could not contain her excitement about some news that would be announced at noon that day. It was known that the current Emperor Akihito was abdicating and his son, Crown Prince Naruhito would ascend to the Chrysanthemum throne starting on the 1 May.

The exciting news was to name the new Imperial era. So, after a brief spell on Mount Fuji's lower level, it was back on the coach just before noon. Rumi was near-giddy and couldn't wait to tell us that the name of the new era is REIWA. She explained that it means order and harmony.

 


Next day, The Japan Times, of course, splashed the story on the front page, illustrated by Chief Cabinet Secretary, Yoshihide Suga, holding up the kanji for Reiwa. 'Suga said the name was formulated based on the introduction to a set of poems from Manyoshu, the oldest existing compilation of Japanese poetry. The first character represents good fortune, while the second can be translated as peace or harmony. (Close enough to Rumi's interpretation.)

It was a nice feeling to be in japan on that day and to witness such excitement. How different, I couldn't escape the thought, from the depressing state of politics back home, with absolutely nothing and no one to enthuse and inspire.

Whatever anyone thinks of Japan, its history, politics and culture, Reiwa is a word we should all use in thought, spirit and action.

MY CV. NULL AND VOID

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

As many people have done and are doing, from time to time during my working life, I have updated and rejigged my CV when casually applying for new jobs, or indeed, desperately applying for jobs during a couple of tough unemployment periods. In one such period of desperation, I even paid a hefty sum for an 'expert' to edit my details to make the CV short and to the point. Waste of money, I now reflect.

Now retired from full-time employment and enjoying a decent pension pot, I do not have much inkling to re-involve myself in corporate life. I toyed with the idea of management consultancy and other part-time 'guru' work, but I don't seem to have the appetite to mix with egos, jargon and bullshit.

I looked over my last CV and came to the conclusion that it now has a value of near-zero. Not much of it matters anymore. It serves as a basic chronological history of education and employment. It touches on a few successes and a brief list of skills and experience, but that's it.

If I tell you that during the aforementioned desperation periods, I applied for 3,500 jobs, you wouldn't believe me. But it's the God's honest truth. I kept records. Of the 3,500 jobs, I got replies from about 2%, five actual interview invitations and two second interviews. Finally I got a job.

So, the CV now, at my age, is pretty much null and void.

I think I still have much to offer, but I am fussy where I would want to devote my time and energy. Retailing was good to and for me for the most part, but I recoil at the thought of ever having to work in that industry again.

I like the idea of doing something in the Arts and writing on a more regular basis. Thanks to some encouraging and supportive people, I have a growing portfolio of published writing. I tinker with my blog and have fun with it. But what else could I be doing to make the world a better place with whatever I now have to offer?

I'm thinking aloud. The answers will come.

But, feck all that, I am on the cusp of being a Granda for the first time. Game changer.

SUNDAYS, OOR WULLIE, THE BROONS & DAYS OF INNOCENCE

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

When I was a young lad growing up in Belfast, books did not feature much in our house. We were a comics family, and my mother had a liking for People's Friend, The Weekly News and The Sunday Post, all of Scottish origin, although, to the best of my knowledge, we had no direct connection with Scotland. She bought the Irish News every day (heading first to the obituaries!) and, from time to time, the Daily Mirror.

We were allowed The Beano, The Dandy, The Beezer, The Valiant and others, and for my sisters, although I liked it too, The Bunty.

As kids, we enjoyed the Sunday Post for the cartoons including Our Wullie and The Broons. Wullie was a cheeky wee scamp and The Broons were a kind of sitcom family.

In recent months, I have rekindled my affection for the Sunday Post and I am delighted to say that Our Wullie is still there. He hasn't changed or aged a bit. A bucket is still his favoured form of seating. The Broons are as daft as ever. Are they still funny? Yes, but more amusing that laugh-out-loud.

Sundays in the 1960s were quiet days, some would say boring. A lie-in, breakfast, church, sweets and papers bought, lunch that was dinner, war picture or western on afternoon TV, Pick of the Pops with Fluff Freeman ('Not 'alf'), and trying to avoid the death knell that was radio's Sing Something Simple, a signal that the next day was Monday and school and all of that dull stuff. Oh, and The Clitheroe Kid was a big highlight as Mum cooked in the kitchen.

Now, as Sundays have become much the same as every other day, I sometimes feel nostalgic for the old days. Simpler times? I think so. Better times, as a result of the simplicity and being busy doing not much? I think so too.

Books came later, mainly through school, but I think I may have been in my early teens before books really caught my eye and imagination. I'm glad they did. But I'd like to think, like Wullie, that in many ways I haven't changed or aged a bit. Nonsense, of course, but there is something pleasant about recalling days of innocence, days long gone, but not completely gone from memory.

HIGHT STREETS? BYE STREETS!

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

I am happy to accept commissions for longer/shorter versions of this post. I was a retail manager for 35 years.

In October 2012, I reviewed a book about High Streets. That's nearly 7 years ago. Today I read that Debenham's plans to close a tranche of stores. In 7 years, not much has changed for the better. I thought I'd re-post the review.

SOLD OUT - Who Killed The High Street?

by Bill Grimsey

Filament Publishing £14.99

www.filamentpublishing.com

“We cannot ‘save’ the High Street. Tragic though it is, the High Street is as good as dead already.  Whatever we do and however we do it, our town centres will never be the same again. In fact, most High Streets of the future will be unrecognisable from your (and my) fond memories of times gone by. Believe it or not, many may not even have shops in years to come.”

Veteran retailer Bill Grimsey comes out fighting in a no-holds barred shake-up of the debate on High Streets and retail regeneration in his feisty and practical book “Sold Out”.  I love his take on the whole debate. At last, we have someone with inside knowledge (and 45 years experience) sticking his neck out and swimming against the tide of rose-tinted blether, emphasising strongly that nostalgia is not a foundation for building anything and telling it straight that politicians and celebrities (“puppets and clowns”) should back off.

If retailing needs a “Big Bang” moment, then this is a hand grenade of a book that should be studied, absorbed and thumbed extensively across the industry until the pages disintegrate.  Forget nostalgia, here is a 224-page solid basis for clear thinking and decisive action. Forget Portas Pilots. This is the Grimsey Grrrr!

In my own experience in retail management and, more recently as a writer and blogger, the same truth keeps emerging – customers decide what happens to retailing and retailers.  Customers might be manipulated, persuaded and brainwashed by clever marketing, bandwagon spin, Government guilt-trip propaganda et al, but customers are where the cash is and trying to shame or force them into becoming devoted and loyal local community saviours is just pie in the sky.

As Bill Grimsey points out, many town centre retailers and local authorities have not moved with the times. In my town, for example, with many complaints and grumbles about car parking blatantly evident, the council increased charges. Bonkers.  Some businesses too are stuck in a quagmire of outdated cultures run by old-fashioned managers, or egos out of reality’s loop.  What happened in the past and, indeed, what is happening in the present with some leaders is not necessarily preparing companies for a challenging future.

Bill Grimsey does not let consumers off the hook either.  He points out that we have all played a role in the demise of High Streets and that we have ended up with the town centres we deserve because of our actions and choices.  Consumers have become accustomed to tempting special offers from supermarkets and are attracted to the variety and free parking of out-of-town shopping centres because decision-makers in High Streets and council corridors have lost the plot.  Keep up or die?  Sadly, through inertia, some have decided to die.  I had a chuckle at the analogy of TV’s “Catweazle”, magically transported from a dim and distant past into a mind-blowing and incomprehensible world of innovation and technology.  There is something stopping us from getting our heads round reality.  Bill Grimsey’s head is clear:

“The truth is, in all the soul searching about the future of our High Streets, all the exhortations to “use it or lose it” and chintzy ideas about pop-up shops, market days and who knows what, we’ve all been missing the point. No one wants the High Street anymore.”

If your head is stuck firmly in the sand, it would be pointless to buy this or any book because it's too dark to read anything where you are.  But, if you are open-minded, if you want plain speaking, this is the book for you.  If you want a template for practical activity, this is the book for you.  If you want a business book that is both entertaining and enthusiastic about progress, this is for you.  

Bill Grimsey, it seems to me, is barking up the right tree. Grrrr!

NUMBER 321,406 ON MY LIST OF THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

I chanced upon a ' news' item that made me blink rapidly and sigh deeply. The Director of the Scottish Maritime Museum has decided not to refer to ships as her or she, but to rename them as it. The Director, David Mann, has vowed to update all signage around the building with gender neutral terms. 'Like other maritime museums and institutions, we recognise the changes in society....', he says. The move has been made following vandalism of exhibits' information panels.

Royal Navy Admiral Lord Alan West, former First Sea Lord, is reported to have called the move 'stark staring bonkers and political correctness gone mad.'

In this day and age, when the merest whiff of offence is in the air, someone makes an issue of just about anything and sets off a trail of like-minded offendees and, if you'll pardon me, regarding social media, 'thar she blows'.

So, 321,406 on my list of things to worry about and I'm surprised it's that high.

And don't get me started on Moby Dick!

WHAT HO! GREETING THE DAY

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces on life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too. Sometimes, I get mad as hell!

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

In my world, right now, the worst thing I can subject myself to is morning news programmes on radio and television. There is so much 'bad stuff' being reported, analysed, discussed and wrung out that I know it is not the best and most positive way to spend time at the start of a day. Interviews, generally, are a series of long-winded questions followed by long-winded answers that, most of the time, do not have any relationship to what has just been asked. Experts and gurus, who are no such thing, are trooped in to offer either blether or blah to a subject, not advancing issues one jot. Transient politicians drone on and worse politicians long since retired, are treated like old sages who have forgotten their onions in the years since their limelight faded. To me, it is just noise. Negative, destructive noise.

So, in 2019, most of my early mornings have been spent drinking tea and reading in a quiet part of the house. At the beginning of the year, I set myself the pleasurable challenge of reading all the Jeeves and Wooster books by P. G. Wodehouse. There are, I believe in total, 35 short stories and 11 novels in the canon and they plus the tea and seclusion for an hour or so lay the foundations for whatever the day brings. I have six books under my belt and I am about to start the next one.

Apart from the joy and entertainment in the books for a reader, an aspiring writer can see that the books form a masterclass.

'What a very, very lucky person you are. Spread out before you are the finest and funniest words from the finest and funniest writer the past century ever knew.' So wrote Stephen Fry, a fine Jeeves in his time.

'The funniest writer ever to put words to paper.' So wrote Hugh Laurie, a sublime Bertie Wooster on television alongside the aforementioned Fry.

The next book happens to be called Joy in the Morning. Very apt.

BOOK REVIEW - BALMORAL CEMETERY BY TOM HARTLEY

Available for freelance writing commissions on a variety of subjects including family history, nostalgic Belfast and its famous people, shops, shoppers & shopping, the golden age of Hollywood (esp westerns) and humorous pieces of life's weird and wonderful. Op-eds, columns, non-fiction book reviews too.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

Balmoral Cemetery
by Tom Hartley
2019
The Blackstaff Press

https://blackstaffpress.com/product/balmoral-cemetery-the-history-of-belfast-written-in-stone-by-tom-hartley/

I like cemeteries. I am not always comfortable in them, but I find them fascinating places. When not attending a funeral service and enduring the grief and sadness of losing a loved one, I enjoy spending time as a kind of a graveyard tourist, browsing headstones and trying to form some kind of a picture of other people’s lives, especially those poor souls who died at very young ages. My local graveyard when I was growing up in Belfast was Milltown Cemetery, a place that houses, if that’s the word, some of my family and friends. I tend to associate it with strong winds and heavy rain, but that might just be the (un)luck of the draw when I have been at funeral and burial services. Bad weather is a reminder, perhaps, that whatever else they are, cemeteries have a right to appear and feel miserable. It’s their job, in a way. But there is so much more to tell beyond the gravestones.

Tom Hartley wrote about Milltown Cemetery and Belfast City Cemetery in his first two books in this trilogy on the history of Belfast ‘written in stone’. I have not read either book but I may well do on the strength of this latest volume on Balmoral (Malone) Cemetery in Stockman’s Lane. This is history thoroughly researched and explored in great detail. It is not only a book about the cemetery. It covers much wider territory beyond the walls and railings and takes us through Belfast Presbyterianism’s past. This is a story of power and strong influence from religious and political figures played out in meeting houses and schools, in missionary and temperance halls. 

Tom Hartley writes: ‘In setting out to write this book I had sought to tell the story of a burial ground, but history, and my own curiosity, intervened to widen my area of research. The lives of Presbyterians buried in Balmoral Cemetery are intertwined with the bigger, dynamic history of nineteenth-century Belfast Presbyterianism, and that of Belfast itself.’

The book covers the opening, development and eventual closure of the cemetery, some of the extraordinary people buried there, the origins, historical roots and troubled times of Presbyterianism and the fate of church and school buildings, all enhanced by informative appendices and an impressive array of illustrations. The writing is neither stuffy nor off-putting, as some history books are. As I read through, I wanted to ‘do a Portillo’ and visit Balmoral Cemetery with tome in hand to get closer to the details. But, not having the time or the opportunity to do so just now, I might well pack the book when I have more time to explore on a future back home visit.

Tom Hartley has achieved something remarkable here. I told some friends that I was reading a book about a cemetery and their eyes rolled as they scoffed that a book about such a place would be so depressing. Not so, and far from it. Balmoral Cemetery: The History of Belfast, Written in Stone reinvents what the story of a graveyard should be. Of course, the core focus is the ground within the walls and the inscriptions, but it’s the stories of individuals and congregations, of flesh and blood, of people that, if you’ll allow me, breathe life into the stones and the historical relevance of those beneath.

AT TIMES OF SADNESS, NO WORDS

I hear said: no words.
Here's five to start us talking:
shock, grief, pain, sorrow, anger.
Words matter, adding
text to aching emotions.

Words matter,
even when it seems they don't.

RISING

The oft-recited prayer deliver us from evil,
Desiderata's go placidly,
even Kristofferson's help me make it through the night,
we clutch at phrases like these for comfort,
hoping all bad things will just go away,
knowing that evil, like rust, never sleeps,
eating away at hearts and souls.

We whisper mantras and light candles,
wade upstream in a never-ending tidal-rush
of 24/7 demons doing what they do,
making every effort to drown good spirits,
spirits that might be wounded or suffocated,
but never extinguished. Never extinguished.

Spirits that respond to sweet kisses of life,
always ready for triumph, revival, for a rising.

THEY SAY

They say deal with loss.
They say time will heal.
They say things happen for a reason.
They say forgive and forget
They say there, there, sorry for your loss.
They say what's done is done.
They say draw a line.
They say move on.

Words, like plasters on wounds,
blood seeping through the fabric,
eventually the weeping stops
but not the remembering.

ON A TRAIN IN JAPAN

I have an appetite for politeness,

Old school, I know, out of fashion, lost cause.

And what brought on this hunger pang? A bow,

Effortless, graceful, a moment, a pause

To widen the eyes and drop the jaw.

A uniformed attendant on a train

Walked the carriage to a connecting door.

She turned to face us, warm smile on her lips,

Bowed her head, more than a nod, but no more,

Turned again and carried on her duties.

It was as brief and effective as that,

An indicator that complicating

Humanity and human goodness

Is what we’ve become, subordinating

The purity of natural kindness.

60 YEARS ON FROM A SCHOOL PROJECT, I'M ON THE STREETS OF TOKYO

I am happy to receive commissions from editors 

on any aspect of this trip.

joecushnan@aol.com

When I was a boy of six, our teacher, Mr Sadler, told the class at St. Teresa's Primary School, Glen Road, Belfast, that we were going to work on a project. We were going to find out as much as we could about Japan from books, holiday brochures and whatever else we came up with. I remember it was an exciting project because there seemed to be nothing more distant or exotic as Japan.

In a matter of weeks, the classroom walls were covered with photographs, paintings, newspaper and magazine cuttings, and all manner of things. I have never forgotten that project.

Fast forward almost 60 years and there I was recently walking the streets of Tokyo and visiting places like Yokohama, Toba, Himeji, Kochi, Yokkaichi, with a wee detour on one day to Busan, South Korea. It was all fascinating and mind-blowing.

I am now writing up the trip for a short memoir - working title, 'Postcards from the East'. I might pitch it or parts of it to editors, but as a last resort I'll blog a few pieces or even self-publish just for the family record.

So many moments, especially one that blew me away, and so many stories.

LOCAL ELECTIONS - ANOTHER LEAFLET

Following on from the previous post...........


It is local election time and political campaigning leaflets are outnumbering takeaway menus at the moment. The blurb on them is, by and large, airy-fairy claptrap, of course. I often say that on the morning after ballot boxes have closed, that mighty din of whirring is the sound of manifestos, promises and pledges being shredded en masse.

Here's another leaflet that was posted through my door. I will not identify the contender.

'Dear Residents, We are not going to make you any false promises in a bid to secure your vote in these local elections.......'

And then, a list of pledges:

'We will freeze your council tax for two years.

We will protect our rural communities from over development.

We will scrap town centre Saturday parking charges.

We will invest in our town centres.

We will be tough on fly-tipping.

We will protect fortnightly bin collections.

We will build council houses.

We will re-open public toilets.

We will have a zero tolerance to all types of anti-social behaviour.

We will always put the needs of local residents before party politics.

We will make our district cleaner, safer and better place in which to work and live.'

All very noble stuff. And based on just about every past local election, the realist in me screams that there is not a cat in hell's chance of much of this list actually being delivered.

For example, town centres have been dying for years and reports and recommendations have blethered on and on about what should be done. And what happens? NOTHING.

Vote wisely but vote on the basis that your only choice is picking the least worst candidates. 

LOCAL COUNCIL ELECTIONS - BRING ON THE EXCLAMATION MARKS

It is local election time and political campaigning leaflets are outnumbering takeaway menus at the moment. The blurb on them is, by and large, airy-fairy claptrap, of course. I often say that on the morning after ballot boxes have closed, that mighty din of whirring is the sound of manifestos, promises and pledges being shredded en masse.

Here's a leaflet that was posted through my door. I will not identify the contender but I was intrigued by something - the use of exclamation marks and other emphases. I have edited out a few bits.

"Do we want more of the same, are we all fed up of all the broken promises, the ineptitude or do we want CHALLENGE and CHANGE??"

I will deliver CHALLENGE and CHANGE: using my core values of Openness, Transparency, Fairness, Integrity, Passion, Innovation and Accountability!!

I will drive change via those core values, my track record over the past 16 years is a successful one! 

I will make a difference for my ward, for local people, for the sake of our children, grand-children and their children!!!"

This is non-specific nonsense and it seems to me the writer knows this because of the need to use capital letters, 2 question marks at the beginning and 6 exclamation marks throughout. Emphasising nothing of substance is emphasising nothing.

Brainstorming a lot of words and calling them "core values" is a typical political tactic. They all sound fine and noble but nothing else. There is no commitment here. Nothing.

So, always be wary, folks, of lazy words, meaningless sentences and over-exuberant use of punctuation from political contenders.

Now, I will DELIVER this waste of paper to the bin forthwith!!!!!!

FREELANCE FEATURE OPPORTUNITIES MAY 2019

I am happy to receive commissions to write about any of the events below

joecushnan@aol.com or Direct Message on Twitter @JoeCushnan

MAY

1 Batman first appeared in comic form 80 years ago

1 Formula One’s Ayrton Senna died at 34 at San Marino 25 years ago

2 Leonardo Da Vinci died at 67 500 years ago

2 The Folies Bergere cabaret opened in Paris 150 years ago

2 The QE2 passenger liner set off on her maiden voyage 50 years ago

2 Oliver Reed died at 61 20 years ago

3 Folk singer Pete Seeger was born 100 years ago. Died at 94 in 2014

3 Margaret Thatcher became the UK’s first female Prime Minister 40 years ago

4 Audrey Hepburn was born 90 years ago. Died at 63 in 1993

6 Roger Bannister became the first person to run a mile in under four minutes 65 years ago

6 Channel Tunnel crossing between England and France was officially opened 25 years ago

6 The final episode of TV’s Friends was broadcast 15 years ago

8 Dirk Bogarde died at 78 20 years ago

10 Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as South Africa’s first black president 25 years ago

10 Fred Astaire was born 120 years ago. Died at 88 in 1987

11 The Monty Python team formed 50 years ago

14 Henry J. Heinz, founder of Heinz food company, died at 74 100 years ago

16 Liberace was born 100 years ago. Died at 67 in 1987

16 The first Academy Awards were presented 90 years ago

19 Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis died 25 years ago

20 Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley & His Comets was released 65 years ago

22 Arthur Conan Doyle was born 160 years ago. Died at 71 in 1930

24 Queen Victoria was born 200 years ago. Died at 81 in 1901

26 Michael Jackson married Lisa Marie Presley 25 years ago