Blood was the theme yesterday. In the morning I went to donate blood at the Irish Blood Transfusion Board's D'Olier Street clinic, after receiving a reminder to donate via text message. I only mention this because according to IBTS's records, this is the 25th time I have donated. I feel it should be a bit more than this as I have a Gold Pelican, which marks 20 donations, for many years (I'm guessing 15 years!). The next award, a Gold Drop, is for 50 donations which I should be able to reach if I keep up 2 or 3 donations a year over the next 10 years.
At lunch time, I went out for a walk and passed by a murder scene on Summerhill Road. The previous evening, one of Dublin's most notorious drug dealers, Michael "Roly" Cronin, was shot dead by someone sitting in the back of his car, an accomplice was also shot and seriously injured - click here for Irish Times story on this. It's a strange feeling walking by the scene. The car was gone, there were several Gardaí about with clipboards stopping passers-by, and the tent that you see in the Irish Times front page photo was still there. Hard to believe that a violent bloody crime had been committed only hours earlier. I didn't actually see any blood. I do remember another murder scene outside the College three years ago when the next day there was still blood on the path and in the gutter. Why do they do it? Life is so cheap these days that drug dealers must know that their lives can be snuffed out for a few hundred euro at the hands of a hired killer. It's hard to feel any sympathy for them