Heart Beat: I went to the Ryder Cup. For me it was a marvellous occasion. Everybody involved is worthy of the highest commendation.
As we all know now, the only adverse feature was the weather. But the Government has promised it will see to that after the next general election and will ensure it can never recur.
From Dr Michael Smurfit's ambitious dream to its hugely successful implementation, there were years of hard work, dedication, talent and commitment. We the public, the golfers and even those weird people who don't like golf were the beneficiaries. So was Ireland in the widest sense. There were, of course, begrudgers and to them I can only proffer the time-honoured Irish salutation. The less well-bred among you will immediately recognise this.
The Highest Authority and I were there on the final day and we had a ball. In every way it was a day to savour and remember. From the amenity garden at the entrance displaying the Ryder Cup, to the food island in the lake with its 11,000 heathers and grasses, everything illustrated the richness and diversity of the Irish food industry.
As a nation, we have become more appreciative in our enjoyment of good food. In an earlier existence, I unwittingly wandered into the food faddist's den and was savagely mauled. In fact, I was accused of misleading the public, essentially over the margarine versus butter issue. I had had the temerity to urge the widespread use and enjoyment of our incomparable dairy products. However, that is all in the past and science forges steadily forward, bypassing the islands of single-issue fanatics who would impede its progress.
Personally, I don't worry too much about what people eat. Commonsense dictates to most of us what we should eat and education provides a basic understanding of nutrition. Alas, this latter can often prove to be indigestible to the recipient. My simple and wholly fallible creed consists of moderation in all things (including moderation), a varied diet and lots of exercise.
If you choose to believe that following a particular diet and/or exercise regime is somehow beneficial, that is your prerogative. I would venture to suggest however that the weight of human experience does not illuminate such a pathway and people of all races and nations tend to muddle on in their own way with the eventual outcome being the same.
My own inclination would be to face the challenges nutritionally posed by want rather than affluence. I actually do find it hard to work up indignation over a hamburger or two; while widespread starvation shames us all.
I had not intended to write about this subject at all, but for the fact that upon return from the K Club with its culinary delights and lavish hospitality, the Highest Authority made the statement: "I think you've put on weight."
There was no "you might have". This was definite.
I was indignant, and feebly protested that I did not feel fat and that I knew my weight had not changed. Nonetheless, I surreptitiously weighed myself later in the evening.
My first appropriately named gut reaction was that the scale was a lying bastard. My second was that it had just made a simple mistake.
I reluctantly admitted to the Higher Authority that I had, in fact, put on an insignificant amount of weight. I resolutely refused to discuss details.
Such matters were to be private between the scales and myself. I thought gloomily back to my consulting room days: the statement, "doctor, he hardly eats anything", would leave you pondering the proposition that a 15-stone man could maintain his weight on two Marietta biscuits a day. I remember being asked for extreme diet sheets, which everyone involved knew would simply end up in the bin. I remembered equally heavy women berating their partners for eating too much.
I heard every kind of excuse and vainly pointed out that there were few fat people to be found behind the wire in the concentration camps. Occasionally, the object of correction would retort, "you're not too thin yourself". Such comments I did not deign to notice.
My grudging concession that I had in fact gained some weight empowered the Higher Authority, however. She was in a position to do something about it and now I am striving to keep body and soul together on what amounts to a starvation ration. She maintains that most people would think it normal.
I could, of course, supplement my intake outside, but my cunning strategy is to make discernible improvement and then monitor same on a weekly basis.
No formal diet; this has to be for me a triumph of mind over matter and of will over want. Hippocrates said: "It is easier to fill up with drink than with food." Don't I know it; there are a lot of calories in a pint.
A week further on, there was some encouragement from my friend the scales, with whom I am once more on speaking terms. In this week I have managed to lose 8lbs.
I suspect that this is the easy bit and that things will become harder. This is where the "including moderation" bit comes in my philosophy. I am not a saint in this regard and am looking forward already to a good fall.
Thomas Jefferson wrote: "We never repent of having eaten too little." What a load of nonsense some people write.
Watch this space, it may shrink.
Maurice Neligan is a rapidly shrinking cardiac surgeon.