1962 - The Year of Nothing Much

Watched a documentary about Ireland in 1962 last night. Cleverly intercut with what was going on in the USA at the same time. One scene showed James Meredith walking past racist protestors to become the first black student at the University of Mississippi. Then cut to a dance hall in rural Ireland. Pasty white faces in badly cut suits on one side of the sawdust floored dance hall. Equally pasty and freckled faces in homemade dresses on the other side. The band was a mass of freckles and wispy hair atop the pastiest faces you've ever seen. Everyone looked bored. Everyone looked dead behind the eyes. There was simply nothing going on.

America was undergoing a revolution. Kennedy was telling southerners to grow up and forget their predjudices, back home, predjudice just seemed like too much hard work. The IRA was on the verge of disbanding because nobody cared. They released a statement saying there would be no more border raids. They showed vox pop interviews about entry to the EU, emigration, and the last issue of the 'Evening Mail'. Nobody gave a shit about anything. The enthusiasm for TelStar on the other side of the Atlantic was phenomenal. They had ideas about everything from integration to space travel to rock and roll.

The Irish just shrugged when asked about anything...

And that's the difference. That's why so many went to America in the sixties. Plain and simply, nobody got excited about anything in Ireland. There was an overwhelming sense of boredom. There was fuck all to do. people just got pissed off with Lyons Tea, Mashed Potatoes and pork chops, so they saved up their few shillings and bailed.

The last word went to a twenty something year old who looked about forty. The interviewer asked him what he would do tomorrow evening now that the 'Evening Mail' newspaper was no more. "I'll probably buy the Herald" was his deadpan reply. Priceless.