Tag Archives: Humor

Free Speech

25th May, 2018

Tim,

I write on the 23rd but will post on Friday, the 25th. Here is a DVD I made called Tich Ennis DVD sample, also copy of a letter to John White to whom I sent it last Friday. The DVD is of about 15 minutes playing time and has 5 films made by me on my Apple Mac desktop computer using the supplied program, Photo Booth. I was unaware of this program until recently and now film myself speaking my pieces and put them on my blog, YouTube and Facebook.

See my letter to John White for more information.

Please let me know what you think of these movies. I consult you as to content, John as to technical aspects and Peter Somers aesthetically.

I now have several movies on the above platforms, and more waiting.   I have 100 followers of my blog, as a friend of mine said, people with nothing better to do!

I don’t know how many letters I have sent you in my lifetime, they could probably be counted on the fingers of one hand. You once said you love my letters.

I know you are in pain and often in hospital. Once exasperatedly I said to you you don’t even tell me if you read my letters or listen to or look at anything I send you. Then, you said you are in hospital, which you were. But not always.   When you are well enough please do so.   I need to know whether you want more from me. I too am human. I am not ignoring you.

Many a rose is born to blush unseen and waste its sweetness on the desert air. No rose without a thorn. You did respond, when prodded, when I asked about my singing CD, and excellently. Thank you. By text or voice is satisfactory, text preferred because more permanent.

Why do artists create? Fame is the spur, said someone, possibly a character in Shakespeare. Neither money nor fame are my spur. I create for love. Because I love it.   Some have said they like my stuff. Or some of it. My best friend is dead, I think he liked all of it. He has gone to that bourne from which no traveller returns.

Empathy on all sides is required. Who is sorriest for themself here, you or I? Possibly you, with some justification. How do I know if you want more from me if you don’t respond? I don’t want to give unwanted gifts. One Porsche for sale, unwanted gift. I did not so advertise.   Or Ferrari, as the case may be.

If I sound a bit bloody minded here it is because I am bleeding. Metaphorically speaking.   We may be engaged in a dialogue of the deaf.

Say it ain’t so,

David (Tich) Ennis

23rd May, 2018

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For The Record

 

 

 

 

For The Record

(Copy of email sent today 18th May, 2018)

Tich Ennis 
to jive

To:  The Secret Bookshop, Wicklow street, Dublin

tel 01 7079955

 

Hi Sean,

This is for the record and to introduce myself to you.  I am David (Tich) Ennis, singer and writer.  Thanks for saying you will stock and I hope sell my cd Great Irish Songs which my brother George gave you 5 copies of today.

People from the age of 92 to 20 and all ages in between have said they love it.  I hope you will play it so you can recommend it to people from having heard it.  It is good value at ten euros because it is a full cd of almost exactly 80 minutes with all great ballads and other types of song on board.  A friend of mine who lived in America said Irish Americans would love it.

A couple of questions:

Do you have a website?

Do you also sell by mail order?

My phone number is 087 xxx xx xx and I live in Reality, Seaview avenue, Arklow, Co. Wicklow, a bungalow named by me when my brother and myself moved in about three years ago.  I am originally from Dublin, but that was a long time ago.

The songs on my cd are all out of copyright as far as I can (painstakingly) establish.  Every kind of song there, fun, dancing, drinking, fighting, the whole shebang.  All songs I like, and so do many others.  And a few love songs.  (e.g., I Met Her in the Garden where the Praties Grow).

Joke:  I have a round black thing with a hole in it.   Is this a record?

Blame a disk jockey.

When I am in Dublin, which is infrequently, I will call on you.  My cd is for sale in very few outlets, only yours a cd shop.  A hotel, a computer shop, maybe a book shop in Wicklow town.   Also a second hand book and record shop here in Arklow.

I may appear on East Coast Radio, the Declan Meehan Morning Show, which I did before, when  I self published a book, Pub Talk, in 2014.   That station is heard in Dublin.  If that happens I will give your shop a mention, and let you know.

Okay and thanks again.  The cd is as stated, the songs are all great.  As written on the cover, someone said ‘I could listen to this all day’.

I will plug away at the publicity end.

Keep selling!

David (Tich) Ennis

 

 

 

Rasta Guitar

4th May 2018

Tim,

Here are two recordings from BBC Radio 4 of this month and last, Guitar Maker (Roger Bucknall) and Rastafarian Poet, the life story of Benjamin Zephaniah, read by himself. As well as a song of this year, Someone Out There Loves You, sung by Rae Morris.

If I ever buy a guitar if I ever have the money I would like to get it from Roger Bucknall, one of the great accoustic guitar makers of the world. To make a great guitar requires great knowledge of woods and other materials and a lot of skill, care and attention, the Devil is in the detail.

More than one person (two) have said about my singing I should learn the guitar, in the meantime what, air guitar?   The guitar sounds on the Bucknall CD are surpassingly beautiful.

Zephaniah, U.K. born, of Jamaican ancestry, asks why do white people hate us? Good question. He was a poet, a gangster, then a poet again. It sometimes seems it helps to be a member of an oppressed community if a person wishes to be an artist, it provides motivation. Not that anger is a pleasant emotion.

Persecution is good for you said someone known to you and me. You have to be twice or three times as good to get promotion if you are a woman or black. The rich are deprived. Wealth is of the spirit. Money in the right hands is as wonderful as anything else.

I have a lot of other recordings on my computer I can send you over time. I hope you enjoy these.

I might send you a DVD of myself reading some of my stuff if I get around to making it. Once a technophobe, always a technophobe. Before I tell you the solution to this problem tell me how difficult it is because when I tell you the answer you will say how obvious it is, said Sherlock to Dr. Watson.

Dr. Watson was painting a door lemon. Sherlock Holmes walked by. Lemon entry Watson, he said.

Must I?

I sold two copies of my singing CD, Great Irish Songs, to a couple outside a café here this week. At this rate it will take me a long time to become a million seller. No answer from Claddagh Records about the disc I gave them, I must not be purist enough for them. Long live the common people!

Best wishes and happy listening from David (Tich) Ennis

 

Heaven

Heaven in a grain of sand, may I be that grain.

Maybe I am, or maybe I’m just a pain.

With apologies to William Blake.

Did you do a second take?

For Heaven’s sake.

Tich Ennis

1st May, 2018

Information

 

At what height does a pony become a horse? Fifteen hands.

This is known in many lands.

The nineteen forties was the time of big bands.

Straight laced, straight faced.

A fact is a lie and a half.

Don’t laugh.

Tich Ennis

30th April, 2018

Idealism

When young I thought I might be an idealist. I read that young people are idealists, and I was young. I looked the word up in a dictionary. It said an idealist is a person with unrealistic expectations. My heart sank.

Are my expectations unrealistic? What are they, what were they? I was unsure. I know now, now that I am old. My hope and wish is for the truth to be, to hear and see it said, done and spoken. Where? Here and now, in real life. Is that unrealistic? Will it always be?

In what sphere do I wish for the truth? In the sphere called the Earth, the world, here and now and always and in all mediums and media, through all, with all and to all. Some hope.

Skilled liars are everywhere. Look no further than what we call the news. Listen to them speak. To each other, against each other. For themselves, not for the truth. And all spoken in the guise of the truth. The truth of a lie is that it pretends to be the truth, it is false, it is not the truth.

Does the truth exist? Yes. It is rare, but everywhere at the same time. What is rare is valuable. From the lips of a child or an honest man or woman in all walks of life.   To be honest is to be told you are a fool. By whom? The liars and self seekers.

The truth is not self serving. It is as the mother of a child. The truth serves others. Does the truth teller benefit from telling the truth, doing the truth, being true? The truth teller does not care. But yes, the true person has self respect. And respects others. And all things.

As we say in Ireland, it’s a hard oul’ station. And getting harder all the time. The truth is like gold dust in this world. Rare and valuable, but held in honour and esteem.

You cannot reveal the truth without revealing yourself. At junior school we were told we are vehicles for the truth. I thought I don’t know the truth. I thought the truth was something said in words. The truth is nothing if not done. Words may be lies, actions never lie.

I believe what you do, not what you say. So said an old man. I am old, I quote his words. The older I get the less I believe what people say, the more I believe what they do, to quote his exact words. And so say all of us.

You can fool some of the people all the time and all the people some of the time but not all the people all the time. This too has been said. How true.

To an artist friend I said I want to change the world. You would have to change yourself first he said. There’s many a true word spoken in jest. Must the truth exist only in aspiration, hopes and dreams? I hope not. And believe not.   And know it is not so. But why so rare?

Because the truth does not serve the self and self servers are everywhere. It was all said before.   There’s none so deaf as those who don’t want to hear. The poet T.S. Eliot said the truth is what is most hated. A poem is said to encapsulate a truth. Poets speak the truth to power.

You get no thanks for telling the truth, so I have heard. A greater man than I could say this more tellingly, more convincingly. But where is he? In jail, an asylum or dead? Failing his presence I speak.

I say what every fool knows. I know, and I am a fool. Who is the fool? Listen to the fool.

At school we were told listen to madmen. They say wise things. Simple people know the truth. The truth is simple and profound. And known to all. Even me. And you.

So, am I an old idealist? Old, yes. Hope springs eternal in the human breast. May idealism be realised. And hope fulfilled. And idealism realise its dream, a true world.

Of all sad words of tongue or pen the saddest are these, it might have been. Words of a poet, Robert Louis Stevenson. So let it be. As it could be, as it should be, as it might be, as it can be and would be if we had the will. Or have it.

I’ll let it go at that. Don’t say no one told you. And the joke is you know all this already. So do I. Listen to a fool. Listen to yourself. Who’s fooling who?   Tell me something I don’t know, you may say.

I am a poor poet in the poverty stricken sense and probably in the other sense also. Here I speak in prose. What is prose? Anything that is not poetry.

May the truth be realised, understood and acted on. Do I make myself clear? The world badly needs it. We can agree on that.

Dare to be true. Dare to be you. And allow others to be. That’s the how, as a teacher said. Why must it be spelled out? Even a fool knows that. I descend into prose to speak these words.

It must be spelled out because ignored, hated, despised and treated as non-existent. The truth is a way of being. A way of doing. If you want to know you do know. And you are not alone.

I was born for a better world than this. So were you. Hope lives on. It never dies. I am old, but not dead yet. Hope lives on.   The truth is here. It never dies.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Goodbye.

This may be mad but I’m glad I said it.

Tich Ennis

13th April, 2018