Maureen Sparling's New Book....The launch of Maureen Sparling's new book of poetry, A GEM IN THE WASTELAND, was held in the beautiful Georgian House in Pery Square, Limerick ,Wednesday the 31st of July at 8pm.

There was a grand turnout for the occasion and red and white wine was laid on for the well-wishers by the Locke Bar.

The evening's proceedings were started off by John O'Regan from Insignia Publications, the publisher of the book. John welcomed everybody to the affair, thanking them for their support. He then handed over to Nigel Mercier, the well-known actor, who compered the night.

The new mayor, John Cronin, was the first guest speaker. He said how delighted he was to be here and wished Maureen all the best with her new venture. Criostoir O'Flynn was next and spoke at length about the beauty of poetry and praised Maureen and all poets for their great contributions to society. Cathall Costelloe, the comedy actor, amused the throng with a reading from the book of the John the Man tale, which went down very well. Mike Finn, of Pigtown fame, gave his usual entertaining speech which was followed by Frank Prendegast.

Mr. Kramer was called to give another reading from the book and this was appreciated by the ensemble. The author herself took the podium and thanked everybody most sincerely, expressing her gratitude for the large turnout. She related how the sound effects on the CD and tape came about with the purchasing of a tape recorder and how she obtained the sounds of horses' hooves and birds singing.

Then the large crowd was treated to two great singing talents, the first being Michael Ryan, whose powerful tones were a pleasure to listen to in his two renderings. Then the wonderful tenor voice of Eugene O'Callaghan entranced the audience with two more rousing songs.

Eamonn McCarthy played the town crier for the night, entertaining the people with his antics. The excellent evening ended about 9.20 with John O'Regan again thanking everybody for their support and saying that they were all off to South's and that everybody was welcome to join them. The book, A GEM IN THE WASTELAND, is available in Eason's priced €8.99.

When the chattering had to stop!!!... So sad week this week as my favourite eating place closed down. The Chatterbox on Wickham Street was an ordinary little restaurant; very unpretentious but served good food at a decent price. For instance, I always looked forward to my blt (bacon, lettuce & tomato) sandwich each lunchtime as the fair price of €2.40 was a lot cheaper than you'd find elsewhere in town. Combined with the pleasant friendly service from Eleanor (the owner) and Caroline, the Chatterbox was a pleasure to eat in. You'd see the same faces each day which always proves a point. Some people who probably lived on their own had their main meal of the day in there and eleanor's stews and bacon and cabbage were famous. It was also a social gathering for the regulars when the day's news and sport would be discussed. My old pal Joe, a regular for a long time was highly dependent on the place and very depressed at it's closure, due to Eleanor needing a break from the business. He stated that he'd gladly pay twice the price for his meal if only the place would stay open. So now we have to find another eating place to suit us which will not be easy. So again the lesson is; appreciate what you have for because it may be gone before you know it !!

Eh, did you mention sex?... 'Now,' I said, holding up the two sizes of advertising flyers, ' this smaller one is A6 and the larger one is A5'. Godwin, one of our latest arrivals from foreign parts, picked up the smaller one and said in his thick accent, 'this is eh sex'. 'No, no', I said with a laugh, 'Essex is a place in England near London. This is Aysix. Now try it again.' His friend Oofie, whose English wasn't too bad, was in hysterics. 'Ehsex, ehsex', hit my ears again. 'No no,' I cried, bursting my sides, ' Aysix, Aysix !!' Oofie had tears rolling down his face now as he watched this pantomime being acted out in the middle of Wickham Street, Limerick. Finally, after what seemed fifty attempts by Godwin, out it came, ' Aysix, Aysix!!' 'By George,' I yelled in delight, ' I think he's got it!!' Now, passing Oofie, all I have to do is shout 'Ehsex', and he breaks up all over again.

Dave The Rave (at 95 years old)... 'Who's birthday is it?' I asked, seeing the sandwiches and sausages being handed around in the bar. 'It's Dave's, ninety five today,' replied ger. 'that's him over in the corner over there.' I looked across and saw a slightly built grey-haired man, surrounded by women, chatting away, obviously in great form for his celebration. Martin the musician started up the strains of 'happy birthday to you', and on came the cake, covered in candles. It was presented to Dave amidst great cheering and he promptly blew the whole lot out (not ninety five) in one blow to great applause, kisses and photo taking. Later on, up he went up on the stage and gave the appreciative audience a couple of songs to more great response. A true inspiration to all who are worried about getting to middle age!!

A Very Drty Story (no, not that kind!)... 'I hope he's a coal man,' Bart said, as we looked at the dirtiest fellow that we had ever seen in our lives. The object of our attention was sitting across from us in the cafe, having a meal, and he was black from head to toe. Not just slightly black, we couldn't see a part of him that was his original light colour!! A middle-aged man I think, his face, hands, shoes and his dark clothes were caked with grime. 'He's either a coal man or the black and white minstrel show is in town,' I said, looking at the black marks that he had deposited on the cup he was using. He must have heard as when he was leaving, he looked across and gave us a black look!!

Good-Looking Lady...
Oh limerick we know you're a lady
And you grow better looking each day
For you've had a face-lift
All the old bits did shift
And the new look you proudly display

You're an old girl, that no one denies
But a sparkle is there in your eyes
You're alive and so well
It's so plain, one can tell
For your spirit can just rapturize

There are new parts of you daily to see
Springing up with a great energy
You're not showing your age
And belong centre stage
For your beauty is just poetry

Size definitely matters (when you are a little dog)... Imagine being one foot tall, starving, alongside a table of food which unfortunately for you is six foot tall and you have no way of reaching that table, what would your feeling be? Absolute frustration? Well, that must have been the exact feelings of the short-legged hound that I saw in town recently trying to get it on with a lady friend. There was the bitch in heat in front of him, twice his size, waiting patiently for him to do the business but try as he might, he just couldn't rise high enough to oblige her. He tried jumping up, obviously very ready to have a close encounter, but fell back in failure each time. Being sympathetic to his sorry plight, I looked around for a box or something similar to help him gain a foot or two and rise to the occasion, but nothing doing; this love affair just wasn't consummated. proves that in the love stakes it pays to pick on someone your own size!

Read extract from JonJo's autobiography here