Colm O'Regan: Lessons from 10 years of writing columns for the Irish Examiner

Comedian and Irish Examiner columnist Colm O'Regan, pictured in Cork. Pictures: Denis Minihane.

Ten years of writing a weekly column. 

About 520 oul' bits of talk, give or take a few missed for Big Funerals and a small baby heart operation. Ten years is a nice, roundy time period. Something is bound to have happened. 

By any standards, I’ve had an average amount of life in those years for someone my age: children, bereavement, career ups/downs/plateaus/roundabouts/lay-bys. And a few things I think I’ve learned.

Let me be quite clear. These lessons have limited application to anyone else. They’re about as useful to you as my immune system. They give a general indication, but should not be mistaken for advice. If I write “you”, I mean me.

Colm O'Regan: ‪"“Humourous” opinion columnists will be left behind as stragglers or sacrifices in the After Times, so I’m not taking anything for granted in the Before Times."

1: It is an absolute privilege to be paid to do what I do. 

To essentially write about the minor vicissitudes and er…nice-itudes of life. Who the hell do I think I am? Writing for 10 years about who the hell I think I am. 

“Humourous” opinion columnists will be left behind as stragglers or sacrifices in the After Times, so I’m not taking anything for granted in the Before Times.

2: As a child who was good at exams, the rest of my life has been about accepting I know NOTHING about most things. 

And that’s an important place to start off from. The things I mainly know about are trying to make people laugh, minor house sports like throwing things into the bin from distance, how to hold a microphone, and being a member of my own family and a fairly agreeable neighbour. 

But beyond that, I haven’t a clue. I don’t say that as false modesty, it’s so you know how many sachets of salt to throw on.

3: The phone is a problem. 

I am truly at my happiest doing something that has nothing to do with my phone. In 2013, about two years into smartphone-ism, I didn’t know how much of my life would be spent watching others argue online. And you only notice it when you’re not doing that. 

When I’m digging, driving, swimming, in a plane, in the rail tunnel near Kent Station, the mind frees up. 

I saw a thing on Facebook about “Your Brain While On Facebook” and I experienced the same feelings reading it as the article said I would have. 

BUT, I have made one vital change on social media anyway. I’ve realised you don’t need to reply to everything nasty said to you. I checked. It’s not in the rules. Yet. 

Neither me nor the other clown are being paid for this row. Which means someone else is making money off our peeve. I don’t work for exposure anymore, so I let the others have the last word. Even if he is a tool. Someone else can tell him.

Colm O'Regan: "In 2013, about two years into smartphone-ism, I didn’t know how much of my life would be spent watching others argue online"

4: I was surprised by how much I like my children. 

I mean, I’ve seen the films, and people generally tend to love their own kids. But I thought maybe it would strike you at predictable moments, like when they gave me a World’s Best Daddy card they’d made spontaneously after I’d suggested it.

But I didn’t expect to like them so intensely. Like, they’re really sound. To me, anyway. I want to know about their day. To hang out with them. They have opinions. They should get their own column. Not mine, though. They’re not nepo-babies. Yet.

5: Procrastination will kill me. 

Unless I procrastinate my own death. I was going to leave this till the end, but I decided to get it out of the way for the first time in my life. I’ve heard of people who just think of a thing to do and then just schedule it and do it at the time they were supposed to do it. But I file these people under the same bracket as People Who Drink Enough Water or People Who Go To Bed On Time. If I could fix procrastination and inertia this time next year, I’ll be a millionaire. If I start now. Which I won’t.

6: But (unless it’s running for a train that’s already left), even if you do procrastinate, it’s still never too late to start. 

As long as you don’t spend too much time cursing at yourself for not having started sooner. You’re here now. After you’ve finished your tea, we’ll crack on. I am slowly — painfully slowly — planting trees, drilling holes in tiles, getting up, and doing a thing. 

And gradually spending less time berating myself for not starting sooner. The best time to start was a good while ago. The second best time is now.

Colm O'Regan: a popular man at the Coachford disco, allegedly

7: You cannot predict what is worth keeping from the past. 

Old invoices from defunct insurance companies can unlock as many memories as a letter explaining why “so and so was telling everyone you shifted them at Coachford disco but anyway, that’s fine don’t mind her, are you going to Grenagh for the Ray D’Arcy one?” (In case you were wondering, that’s what WhatsApps used to look like, and a group chat was taking the letter off you and handing it around the school bus.) 

But I will treasure that letter like I treasure the letter from PMPA confirming payment, sent to my father. Because my father saying “PMPA” — it’s part of the memory of him. The list of people alive who have ever said the letters PMPA in that order is getting smaller all the time.

8: I almost never regretted anything where I had to make a bit of effort, and I was doing it in good faith. 

It doesn’t matter if it was completely the wrong thing to do.

There was always something that came out of it. 

Even if it was just the lesson “Never do this again.” 

By contrast, the only things I’ve regretted were where I was lazy, penny-pinching, or didn’t respect whoever I was doing the thing for. Or late. Things always go wrong when you're late. “Just my luck!” I roar. 

No, it’s just my own timekeeping.

9: When you make lists of lessons for a column or life, beware of nice round numbers like 10. 

If life has taught me anything, it’s that targets are there to be missed. So I thought I’d have 10 lessons, but I’m not going to get all antsy if I don’t reach it.

Colm O'Regan: "I'm already pure haunted to be doing this."

10: Oh wait, there is a 10th one! 

I just thought of it, a good bit later than the deadline. I’ve heard that “life isn’t a rehearsal”, so you should grab every opportunity, etc. But I think life is a series of drafts. Ones that you have to send. 

With an accompanying email saying there will be updates in the next version.

That’s quite enough about what I think. See you on Monday, where I return to my normal column about... ahem... what I think. Fingers crossed for another 10 years.

But if it’s 10 weeks, what harm? As per #1, I’m already pure haunted to be doing this.