At first he had no idea where he was or what had happened to him. He tried to stand up but couldn’t. His left leg was in excruciating pain and he thought something was broken. He looked around but there was not much to see from where he was. Apparently, he was in the middle of a pine forest. He was clearly confused. He took off his backpack. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw his mobile phone peeking out of an open pocket in the pack.

He opened the phone and called his friend, Eric. But the call failed due to lack of signal. He felt depressed as he now had no chance of being rescued. What about the satellite navigation system? Would it work? He turned on ‘Google Maps’ and got a quick fix. But even though the satnav was working, he hadn’t downloaded the map of the walk beforehand. Damn! He was in a real bind now.

Then, he remembered where he was. He was on Mount San Gorgonio in southern California. Other memories came flooding back to him one after another. He was on vacation in California, where he had lived for over twenty years. He had returned to Ireland when Trump’s kangaroo courts began to unjustly incriminate politicians, television stations, newspapers, social media, journalists, and others. With that, Trump and his followers crossed a red line, because they did not adhere to the constitution of the United States of America. Micheál was not happy to stay in a country that contravened its democratic principles and whose government resembled a dictatorship. 

But Micheál still had loyal friends in America, and that was why he was on the mountainside now. He had known Eric for almost 30 years, and they were very close. They had gone on road trips together to hike in the mountains of California. They had also traveled to Nepal, where they had hiked to Everest base camp. In fact, Eric was supposed to be on this hike too, but he got sick and couldn’t make it. Despite that, Micheál went on the hike – a decision he now regretted. 

Normally, his wife would have known where he was and they would have been in touch all the time. But she was still in Ireland because she hadn’t come on this visit to America with Micheál. Although he had told her that Eric and he would be hiking together, he didn’t say what hike it would be. And when Eric texted him that he had fallen ill, Micheál didn’t tell him that he had intended to go on the hike anyway.

Did he have a broken bone? Maybe not. He felt his leg carefully. He had a bruised ankle, but everything else was fine. He had more than a liter of water left in his water bladder, and there were a few energy bars in a pocket in his backpack. There was an egg sandwich in another pocket. There was a first aid kit in yet another pocket in the bag, and he was very happy to see that. Maybe there would be something useful in it that would help him.

The bag contained mixed bandages, an emergency blanket, duct tape, ibuprofen, a pair of pliers, scissors, antiseptic ointment and moleskin. He took the ibuprofen immediately. Then, he made a splint for his leg. He wrapped bandages around his leg and ankle and then wrapped a large piece of duct tape around the bandages to keep everything in place. Luckily, he had hiking poles in his backpack. The ground was steep, and it was clear that he had fallen off the hiking trail. Micheál stayed where he was for a while. He ate an energy bar and drank some water in between. Finally, he tried to stand again and put his weight on his good leg and the hiking poles. He didn’t put his other foot on the ground, and he was able to keep his balance. He took a few slow steps, testing out the arrangement he had made. It was a little painful, but manageable. He took it one step at a time, slowly making his way up the slope. He saw a few small broken twigs on the trees, and he knew he was going in the right direction. Ten minutes later, he saw the hiking trail and it was a great relief. “I’ll be on my bike now, son!” Micheál said to himself. He was right, although it took him five long hours to reach his car. He didn’t meet anyone else along the way, either.

He kept his adventure to himself, because he was ashamed of what had happened. He promised himself to learn a lesson, so that it would never happen again. Ironically, he already knew the lesson, and he was quick to preach the same thing to other hikers. But you have to follow through on your words, and to that end, he wrote himself a checklist. From now on, he would never go on a hike without checking every item on that list. He was lucky to have survived this time, but he would make sure that it never happened again!

Appendix – Checklist

1. Plan: Share your hiking plan with someone else (start time, route, return time).
2. Supplies: Make sure you have enough food, water, clothing, and first aid kit. Don’t forget your hiking poles.
3. Information: Research the routes, terrain, and weather conditions in advance. Download the map related to the hike, so that the app on your phone ('Google Maps', 'AllTrails', or similar) will show your location on the map when there is no phone signal.
4. With your preparations made - enjoy the hike!

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In a small private room in the 'Smugairle Róin' last night, I was counting a gorgeous, attractive bottles, on a glass shelf in front of me, and putting together the complicated affairs of life, when I was quite stunned. When I came to myself, I realized that someone was knocking on the door of the 'Caillí' (that's the small private room I mentioned just now) trying to come in to me. From the kind of noise being made, I realized instantly that it was my old friend, Séimí an Droichid, who was there for me.

"Come in" I said, nice and welcoming.

The door was opened, and my fine Séimí appeared before me. It was easy to recognize that the poor man was sick with the cold, and for that reason, I asked him to plant himself on the stool in front of me, next to the radiator, and I immediately informed the bar person (Tóin Mhór himself), and asked him to provide me with a good batch of the hard stuff immediately for my friend. He obliged me, and I have to admit that the same man went out of hhis way to serve us. Sémí grabbed his glass. He raised it before him, and then, without further delay, swallowed the contents. He laid his empty glass on the table in front of him, cleared his throat, put on his speaking voice and asked, did I have a story or a poem, after the week?

Any news?

"I have ne’er a story or a ballad myself," said I, "but I would say that you did not go out this way tonight without a story, or a ballad." Maybe you could drop a story out of your story bag?”

"Certainly, I did not come out of our house without a story, or a story, tonight, as it would be difficult to do such a thing, these days, with so many yaarns being woven, and spun, from the big life around us.”

"Let loose then, some of the lore you have collected recently".

"But, shouldn't we all pay attention to things, as that tells us, how quickly misfortune comes down on us, when we don't expect it. There are certain forces at work in these matters, forces over which we have no control, and also forces, which have strength and power in them, which affect us deeply."

"But probably, there were other events bothering us, recently?"

“Be sure there were, as when you think about it, how much life has changed since we were boys, long ago? At that time, weren’t the Church, and the Banks, and the police, the strong pillars of the defense of this State; they were especially persistent, efficient, and indestructible, as we understood it. But look at things as they are now? I am afraid that it has been made clear to the world that they are not the bastion as described, but instead, we have been discovered that they are weak, bent, human, those same strong pillars, on which we all depended."

The Impermanence of Life

"But, Sémí, isn't that your life? Nothing in this world is permanent but the grace of God.”

"I agree with you in that, or as Mártan the Bull put it a long time ago, 'There is no certainty in this world except death, taxes, and the impermanence of this world'. Yes, and he was probably quite right about that. But, I would say now, that it is past time for me to move home, and therefore, we have to leave this matter parked until the next round. In the meantime, think about 'Chothrom na Féinne' in the Republic that was established here after the Easter Rising, 1916. And I'll bid you farewell for now."

And with that, my lovely Sémí, with blazing speed, cleared out of the Caillí at the Smugairle Róin.

"Saafe home" I said after him, although there was every possibility that he was out of earshot by then. But rest assured that we will be returning to that topic again soon.

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“Coffee? Are you sure, Michael?”

"I've given up drinking, Sémí!" I said, as I squirmed in my chair. Sémí looked at me and was shocked. “Sick, is it? Are you sick?”

"You could say that, my friend," I said. You'd think it was a crime. It bothered me that I had to defend myself every time I refused an alcoholic drink.

"You look good, Michael, it's hard to believe there's a health problem involved." He raised his eyebrows questioningly, and stared at me.

"Don't bother with that now, Sémí, don't we have other more important things to discuss and the world's major problems to solve! I put my hand up, and called out to Big Butt: "We're ready, Thomas!" Big Butt started running towards us.

"A pint of porter and a cup of coffee, please," I said, trying to prevent any other problems.

“Do you think I'm a fool? You were checking to see if I was awake, weren't you?” He winked at us, and stood there waiting for my answer.

“Thomas, I need coffee. Do you understand – coffee?” I was angry now.

"Don't worry Michael, I was only joking!" said Big Butt and he was very surprised at how he had angered me. “Coffee and pint coming!”

“Michael, don't go overboard there – I was only joking too! Sorry about that!” Séimí was taken aback too.

It was a Saturday afternoon in February, and although it was quite cold outside, the sun was shining and people were strolling around the city. We were sitting inside by the window in the Smugairle Róin in the center of the city, perched on our seats' people watching'. When I was looking out at the world like this, it gave me a new perspective, and I realized that I felt that I was under a kind of attack and therefore, overreaccting. Although I was not directly under attack, at the same time, there was cultural conformism involved and I was swimming against established social norms. It's not easy to do something like this, but it's not worth lying or getting angry. I had better be honest, and I had better keep control of myself.

I took a deep breath, and gathered my thoughts. "Sémí, it was an excuse earlier, when I said that the reason I wasn't drinking alcohol was because of a health problem. I thought it would be easier to refuse a drink that way." I stopped and took another deep breath.

“Coffee and a pint, guys!” announced Big Butt and him back again! Enjoy them!” He took off at a blazing speed as others beckoned him.

“I'm a little embarrassed to share the real reason with you, Sémí. But I'm too heavy and want to lose some weight – so although this is a health risk, I'm not sick, per se! I stopped drinking completely at the beginning of the year, and I feel better and I've also been losing weight for a while. Why wouldn't I continue with this strategy that is working well for me, Sémí?" I was nervous that Sémí would give me the cold shoulder.

“Michael – forgive me for what I said. I didn't mean to pressure you. At first, I was joking, but when you said you had a health problem, I became worried about you. I asked you about your health, not to pressure you but because I was worried about you, Michael. I'm so relieved you're all right, son! My advice to you is to have a thick skin and don't mind the slagging! Now – to your health!” said Sémí as he tipped his glass.

"Cheers, my friend!" I replied, and I was much more comfortable now. I was glad we had that difficult conversation, and I learned a lot because of it. The most important thing I learned was: Do what's best for you, regardless of what anyone says!

Before he left, Sémí had one more thing to say. "You are setting a good example, Michael! Maybe I'll have a cup of coffee myself next time!” He wasn't kidding this time!

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Bhí oifig a bhainisteora, Seoirse, béal dorais le hoifig Sheáin. Bhí idir bhuntáistí agus mhíbhuntáistí ag baint leis an socrú sin, rud a d’fhoghlaim Seán diaidh ar ndiaidh.

Gach maidin ag a naoi a chlog, osclaíodh a rúnaí, Éamonn, oifig Sheoirse.  Glacadh go raibh Seoirse i láthair ansin mar bhí doras a hoifig ar oscailt. Ach bhí a fhios ag Éamonn agus Seán nach raibh ann ach seachmall. Bhí a fhios ag Seán i slí eile freisin, mar bhí air jab Sheoirse a dhéanamh chomh maith lena hobair féin. Ní dhearna Seoirse faic na fríde maidir lena dualgais féin.  

Tar éis am lóin gach lá, chloiseadh Seán coiscéimeanna troma Sheoirse ag teacht. Tar éis comhrá beag le hÉamonn, thagadh Seoirse isteach in oifig Sheáin. Chuireadh sé ceisteanna ar Sheán, chun nuashonrúchán stádais a fháil uaidh agus chun tascanna nua a leagan air. Níor thaitin an socrú sin le Seán ar chor ar bith, ach mar is é a bhainisteoir a bhí i gceist, ní raibh sé in ann easaontú.

Bhíodh sé deacair do Sheán a hobair féin a dhéanamh sa tráthnóna, de bharr gleo an diabhail a bhí á dhéanamh acu in oifig Sheoirse. Bhíodh gach saghas rud ar siúl ann, seachas obair, agus cuireadh ceol agus glórtha arda agus torainn éagsúla eile isteach go mór air gach tráthnóna. Ach arís, ní raibh Seán in ann dada a dhéanamh faoi agus bhí air glacadh leis agus bogadh ar aghaidh chomh maith agus a bhí sé in ann.

Bhíodh comhghleacaithe Sheán in oifig Sheoirse beagnach gach lá, go háirithe bean darb ainm Áine Ní Mhurchú. Bhí Áine agus Seán ar chomhchéim le chéile ag an am, agus bhídís ag obair ar an bhfoireann chéanna ag forbairt aipeanna fóin.  Gach lá, d’imíodh Áine abhaile ag a cúig a chlog, ach bhíodh ar Seán fanacht ag obair go dtí a naoi a chlog ar a laghad gach oíche, mar bhí dhá phost aige i ndáiríre – post Sheoirse agus a phost féin. Níor mhothaigh Seán go maith faoi sin, ach d’fhoghlaim sé conas déileáil leis.  

De ghnáth, d’imíodh Seoirse a sé a chlog. Ach lá amháin, thosaigh sé ag fanacht san oifig níos déanaí. Ar dtús, chloiseadh sé Seoirse agus Áine ag comhrá le chéile agus ag gáire go croíúil ó am go ham. Lean an patrún sin ar aghaidh ar feadh timpeall míosa, agus ansin tharla athrú eile – athrú mór!

Ar dtús, níor ghlac sé le cad a bhí ar siúl, mar bhí sé ródheacair dó é a chreidiúint. Ach faoin tríú huair a tharla sé, ní raibh an dara rogha aige ach glacadh leis, cé gur chuir sé déistin air. Ní raibh aon slí an fhírinne ghránna a sheachaint – bhí gníomhartha gnéis ar siúl idir Seoirse agus Áine! Sárú glan ar pholasaithe an chomhlachta a bhí ann maidir le ciapadh gnéis, go háirithe mar bhí bainisteoir agus a fhostaí i gceist. Bhí dualgas ar Sheán, dar leis na polasaithe céanna, rannóg na n-acmhainní daonna a chur ar an eolas faoin gcaidreamh seo. Go teoiriciúil, bheadh sé éasca é sin a dhéanamh – ach d’fhéadfadh iarmhairtí tubaisteacha teacht as ó thaobh na praiticiúlachta de; drochthionchar ar Sheán féin san áireamh. B’fhéidir, fiú, go gcaillfeadh sé a phost, agus ní raibh cúl cinn ar bith aige! Bhí sé dainséarach dó aon rud a dhéanamh ach fanacht ina thost – agus mar sin, ní dúirt sé dada do aon duine faoi. Lean an t-iompar ar aghaidh agus d’fhan Seán ina thost. D’fhoghlaim sé conas neamhaird a thabhairt ar an mbuile rithimeach ag eascairt as oifig Sheoirse gach oíche. Lean sé ar aghaidh ag déanamh oibre Sheoirse ag an am ceannann céanna a bhí Seoirse ag bualadh craicinn go glórach béal dorais.

Nuair a fuair Seán a hathbhreithniú ar fheidhmíocht, bhí lúcháir an domhain air!  

Fuair sé rátáil 5 réalta agus bónas breá fial chomh maith. Dhearbhaigh sé sin do Sheán go ndearna sé an cinneadh ceart – fanacht ina thost agus a cheann a choinneáil thíos.  

Cúpla lá tar éis sin, áfach, fuair Seán ríomhphost ón gceann a roinne – liosta na n-arduithe céime a bhí ann. Baineadh stangadh as Seán nuair a léigh sé an chéad iontráil: “Ardú céime go Stiúrthóir: Seoirse Ó Nualláin.”  

“Níl aon cheart le fáil,” arsa Seán leis féin, “mise ag déanamh a chuid oibre agus eisean ag fáil an ardaithe céime!”.  Ansin, bhuail ceist sa bholg é. “Nach gá bainisteoir nua a bheith agam mar sin?”  Fuair sé an freagra dá cheist ar an chéad líne eile sa ríomhphost.

“Ardú céime go Bainisteoir: Áine Ní Mhurchú.”

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