A PARTIAL PUBLISHED WRITING CV

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.

 

CV of published material available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

Some of my published writings:

PUBLISHED POETRY

November 2017 LAPWING POETRY

Collection – Feathers Ruffled

July 2016 THE GALWAY REVIEW

When Elvis Presley died….

When Johnny Weismuller died……

Book Signing (Unreliable Memoirs)

Clumsy

Lauren Bacall Taught The World How To Whistle

An Accident On The Glen Road

June 2015 INK SWEAT & TEARS

In Chartres

November 2015 TEMPLAR POETRY ANTHOLOGY ‘MILL’

Two poems

Summer 2009 THE DALHOUSIE REVIEW

8 x Haiku

PUBLISHED FICTION

March 2018 FAIRLIGHT BOOKS

Flash Fiction – Sweetheart

November 2017 FAIRLIGHT BOOKS

Flash Fiction - Twist

PUBLISHED FEATURES

January 2015 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On leaving Belfast

June 2015 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On my father, the stranger

July 2015 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On singer/songwriter David McWilliams

August 2015 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On the golden age of television

August 2015 LAGAN PRESS ONLINE

On actor James Ellis’s short stories

December 2015 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On my father

April 2016 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On the closure of retailer BHS

June 2017 FAMILY TREE

On family history

August 2017 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On my runaway father

August 2017 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On examination results and my education

September 2017 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On homelessness and begging

November 2017 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On the Royal Ulster Constabulary

March 2018 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On my mother

May 2018 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On a 1928/29 Belfast tourism guide

August 2018 BELFAST TELEGRAPH

On the death of my brother

Also, amongst others, 

A near-40 year career.

N Irish Hollywood film star. Ben Hur and more.

ENDOSCOPY: THE MOVIE & ENDOSCOPY 2: THE SEQUEL - A MAN HAS HOSPITABLE TREATMENT

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. 

CV of published material available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

For a year or more, I have had trouble swallowing some foods, the sort you have to chew into submission like steak. Liquids and 'wet' food such as pasta have been okay. But after a few quite anxious moments of trying to dislodge food from my throat or feeling on a couple of occasions that I was completely powerless to stop choking, despite gulps of water which only seemed to make matters worse, I finally did the right thing and consulted a doctor.

I was on some one-a-day pills but they were pretty useless. I became quite scared of eating, especially the aforementioned chewy foods. I lost weight, estimated at around a stone. I always enjoyed my food but I didn't enjoy the feeling of being strangled by it.

Any road up, the doctor recommended an endoscopy which in layman's terms (for that is what I am, medically speaking) is a way of making movies of your innards. The routine is that you show up at hospital, choose from the medical menu whether to have a sedative or a throat-numbing spray that, they suggested, tasted like banana. I shunned the sedative because I was lucky enough to see a man who had opted for the drug. His body was rubber and he had to be accompanied by a carer. He would not be in control of his functions for twenty-four hours. I chose the spray. And no, I didn't get no banana taste. Can't describe its disgustingness. But it froze the throat.

So, there I was all throat-sprayed and lying on my side on a bed. I was told to bite on a thing with a hole in it and await the endoscopy cable which is about as thick as an adult's little finger. I was expecting a more wiry affair. This cable has a light and a camera, as well as some tools to take samples of tissue between throat and stomach.

In went the cable and, jeez, the first few seconds as it negotiated the turns of the throat to the straighter food channel were extremely uncomfortable. I gagged and coughed but was reassured (not) that I was doing great. This cable jiggled about inside as the endoscopy person (EP) watched a screen that I couldn't see.

When the torture was over, the EP gave me the results. She said there were some worrying things down there, a too-narrow food channel, ulcers and stuff and, emphasising that she was erring on the side of caution, she said she could not rule out cancer. Feck. The C-word. She said the notes of the tests would be sent to a consultancy panel and I would hear their results in a couple of weeks. The EP said she was amazed that I was not in more pain. I was prescribed fairly strong two-a-day pills.

Moving on, I got the results, mostly benign, but I was invited back for a follow-up endoscopy. I looked forward to it rather like a wasp on a window looks forward to being battered by a rolled up Belfast Telegraph.

To keep this short, the second endoscopy gave me the all-clear. The pills worked a treat and I had been eating and swallowing much better anyway. The EP showed me comparison photos of the first and second endoscopies. The first snap showed a very badly ulcerated patch somewhere inside. The second photo showed all the ulcers had gone. Zapped. I was discharged, and delighted! And thank feck, no C-word.

I still take the pills but I am no longer apprehensive at meal times. I put on half a stone.

So people, if something's wrong, go to the doctor. They know stuff. And thank God they do.

Oh, and as if I could forget, three cheers for the NHS endoscopy department's team, so welcoming, friendly and calming. 👏👏👏👏👏👏

POSTER TRIBUTE TO ANDREW V. MCLAGLEN

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. 

CV of published material available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

A Movie Poster Gallery Tribute to Andrew V. McLaglen - one of the truly great action film directors. And wasn't he a ringer for his oul fella, Victor?

Andrew V. McLaglen 28 July, 1920 - 30 August, 2014 - aged 94. Thank you, sir.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICK JAGGER - MICK JAGGER'S CHATEAU

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. 

CV of published material available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

The old potter told us

that Mick Jagger's chateau
was not far away,

so we drove towards
Poce sur Cisse in the hope
that we would find it.

We think we did,
squinting through some snatches
of space in a high, thick hedge,

a magnificent white building,
majestic entrance steps,
immaculately tended gardens.

But, alas, in our vain search
for a glimpse or two
of rock star action,

we failed to spot Mick
and we didn't get
no satisfaction.

FREELANCE WRITING IDEAS FOR AUGUST

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. 

CV of published material available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

I can write a piece on any or all of the following - joecushnan@aol.com

8 - Corn flakes were invented by the Kellogg brothers 125 years ago.

8 - The Beatles were photographed on an Abbey Road zebra crossing 50 years ago

9 - Britains first nudist beach opened in Brighton 40 years ago.

9 - PL Travers, creator of Mary Poppins, was born 120 years ago. Died 1996 at 96.

12 - The Wizard of Oz was first screened in the US 80 years ago.

15 -The Woodstock Music & Art Fair happened 50 years ago.

12 - Battle of the Bogside, start of the N Ireland 'Troubles' happened 50 years ago.

12 - Les Paul, guitarist and inventor, died at 94 10 years ago. 

13 - Alfred Hitchcock, film director, was born 120 years ago. Died 1980 at 80.

16 - The Peterloo Massacre occurred in Manchester 200 years ago.

19 - James Watt, Scottish inventor, died 200 years ago. Died 1819 at 83.

20 - Phil Lynott, Thin Lizzy rock star, was born 70 years ago. Died 1986 at 36.

25 - Senator Edward Kennedy died at 77 10 years ago.

27 - Lord Mountbatten was murdered 40 years ago. He was 79.

28 - Napoleon Bonaparte born 250 years ago. Died 1821 at 51.

30 - John Peel, radio presenter, was born 80 years ago. Died 2004 at 65.

31 - Richard Gere, actor, will be 70.

FED UP WITH FEEDBACK

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. 

Published CV available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

Nowadays, whenever we do any kind of transaction or have any interaction with a business, there is the inevitable request from them for 'feedback'. Sometimes the request comes with a polite 'please' and other times an incentive of gift cards or discounts is added.  Mostly I ignore these requests but occasionally if I have a point to make, I'll respond.

One of my pet hates in shops is the loud music blaring out of the ceiling. This music is selected by someone who is either hard of hearing or wearing ear plugs. This someone is a huge fan of screeching divas, mostly female, who relish the challenge in any song to hit a lung-busting note. These shrillers must rattle and weaken the shop's foundations, for they certainly rattle mine. I have used the feedback form at least 10 times to make my point about the same shop. Only on one occasion have I had a response - 'sorry about that....we'll sort it out'. Is it ever sorted out? No. So, on that flimsy point alone times 10, what is the point of feedback if nothing actually happens?

Companies must have bulging data banks of customer comments, so why is service, particularly supermarket service still so erratic. I'm going back nearly forty years man and boy as a retail manager. I know how hard it is to offer consistently high standards of service because of staff absenteeism, some lazy employees and the unpredictable nature of shoppers' habits. On the flip side, I have been a customer for decades, so I have witnessed service in all of its good, bad and ugly forms. Not much has changed and requests for feedback have not improved things one iota.

On feedback forms, I have made my feelings known about service charges and tipping to restaurants and hotels. I despise expected and pressurised tipping. It is and always has been a horrible practice. I am not talking about tipping that is entirely voluntary, where a customer makes up his or her mind to add a personal token of appreciation. That is fine by me. But, take America. I love the thought of going to America but the excitement is dulled by the thought of the rabid, nasty tipping culture. Go Stateside and budget 20% more spending money or else risk incurring the wrath of Jekyll & Hyde waiting staff. I once had a growl from a Chinese guy in a self-service - self-service! - restaurant for not leaving a tip. The response from hotels and restaurants to my feedback over the years? Mostly, zip. It is no surprise that there are news stories exposing wicked hospitality employers for pocketing tips. There was a story some time ago about a customer in Northern Ireland leaving a £1,000 tip. That’s great and generous – too generous? – but for me, the key point is the gesture was entirely voluntary.

I often get the feeling that business, as well as government, internet companies, the secret service and gangsters know more about us than we do ourselves. I'm fed up being asked for feedback and I have made a flexible resolution not to respond to any more requests. As I type that, I am reminded of a car company, after servicing my vehicle, phoning me the same afternoon to advise that someone from their service centre would be in touch and would I mind giving 10 out of 10 for all the service questions. Eh?

Not long back from London, within 24-hours, emails from the hotel, the restaurant, the train company and the booking service, all mad keen to know about my experience. All emails, of course, deleted.

The f-word "feedback", in my parlance, is always linked to the other f-word, followed by "off".

Let me know what you think! Ha, ha.

A RANDOM STORY ABOUT DEREK NIMMO

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. 

Published CV available on request.

joecushnan@aol.com & @JoeCushnan

In the early 1980s, I worked in the head office of the late, lamented British Home Stores located on Marylebone Road in London. The administration office where I was an audit manager was situated on the ground floor. It was a busy office with comings and goings all day and we became quite blasé about who would be next to walk in with a query, a bulletin, an armful of papers to be copied or signed. But one day, one of our team members let out a gasp and quite naturally we all looked up. Lo and behold, standing in the doorway was none other than actor, radio’s Just a Minute panellist and TV advertisement voice-over regular (‘P – pick up a Penguin’) Derek Nimmo. 

As I recall, he was dressed immaculately in a light grey suit, white shirt and what looked like a pink and green club tie. Someone clarified later that he was a member of the Garrick Club.

He came across as a little shy but spoke in a hesitant, breathy, quite plummy voice so familiar from his characters, Reverend Mervyn Noote in All Gas and Gaiters and Brother Dominic in Oh Brother! He said: ‘Hello. I wonder if you would mind awfully if I used your phone. My car has broken outside and I need to call for help.’

Of course, we invited him to use the telephone and when he had finished, he stood for a little while and chatted to us. He thanked us profusely and left the office to wait at the front doors. We all agreed that he was a very nice, friendly, charming gentleman, and so grateful for our assistance.

Of course, he played more than clergymen roles, but that is how the 1970s generation remembers him. I knew he had done a turn as Bingo Little in the 1967 World of Wooster and starred in various other sitcoms and feature films, even popping up as an English Lord in Neighbours.

It was very sad to read about his death at 68 in 1999. It is a strange thing but sometimes ‘lay people’ when they cross paths with celebrities feel a kind of emotional ownership. Some celebrities are cold fish, but Mr Nimmo was a joy to encounter for a few minutes and it was refreshing and memorable because of his genuine charm and gratitude.