Judge to the rescue of drink driving farmer
This angel fellow sent down from up above would perform all kinds of miracles in order to make life more pleasurable.
If, for instance, you had only one leg, he’d give you another. Or if you felt the need for Viagra or something, he’d wave his old wand and soon you’d be right for road again. He was an angel you see, that was his job.
Anyhow, little did I realise at the time that angels didn’t only exist in Hollywood, they could also pop up in real life.
In Cahersiveen District Court, recently an angel in the guise of Judge James O’Connor helped local single farmer, John O’Shea when he found himself in a right old mess.
Aged 60, single and unattached, Mr O’Shea was up in front of Judge O’Connor, having previously pleaded guilty to drink driving while making his way home from Waterville — when he had a few bags of cow ration on board, but more pertinently, had a few drinks on board also.
In court, his solicitor pleaded for clemency, on the grounds that his client wouldn’t be able to farm properly without the use of his car and his driving licence.
Between the jigs and the reels, didn’t the judge decide to suspend issuing a driving ban, until the farmer got his affairs in order, or in the words of Judge O’Connor, found “a nice woman” to drive him around.
It was noted in court that Lisdoonvarna in September might be a good spot for John O’Shea to begin the search for the “nice woman”.
Well, wasn’t that Highway to Heaven stuff, without any doubt?
All we were short was the morose old trumpet in the introduction to the TV show, the sea of clouds, and the long highway stretching as far as the eye could see.
Instead of a slap on the wrist, which I felt the farmer rightly deserved, the kind-hearted judge was offering the man the chance to get a peck on the cheek. Clearly the judge is some class of an angel, there could be little doubt about that.
And you can be sure now, just as night follows day, that if John does venture to Lisdoonvarna in September, he will definitely get lucky, and nab the very women he is looking for.
A young bombshell no doubt, with legs that stretch all the way to heaven, will be waiting there for him, and she with the cleanest driving licence that you ever did see.
And when he would explain to her that it was a district court judge that had sent him back to Lisdoonvarna, the deal would surely be sealed.
“Oh mon chéri,” she would purr while smothering the farmer with kisses, “of course I will drive your car to Waterville for your silly cow ration.”
And then, playfully patting his head, she would add, “And I will sit there too, behind the wheel of your automobile, and wait for you while you have your silly drinks with your funny friends.”
And when the Kerry farmer finally makes his return to court next December to receive from the judge his adjourned driving ban, ’twill be like water off a duck’s back.
For sitting pretty in his car outside will be his bombshell from Lisdoonvarna, “the nice woman” a kind-hearted judge had suggested might take him to all the places he desired.
