Red-line issues, red ribbon problems, red buses, red faces, red noses. There was a theme emerging.
It was small party time in Dublin yesterday, with the Social Democrats and the Greens holding press conferences within an hour of each other.
In keeping with the spirit of the occasion, some of us gave serious thought to starting a small party of our own.
The SocDems launched their “Backing Irish Business” policy in the Irish Whiskey Museum at the foot of Grafton Street. There was a lot of product about. We didn’t partake. A very bad decision, as it turned out, even if the clock had yet to strike midday.
The Green Party launched its public transport proposals in nearby Dawson Street. We were crying out for a belt of hard liquor by the time their magical mystery tour of interesting traffic lights moved off from the Mansion House.
Back at the whiskey museum, and initial suspicions that the Social Democrats had started early.
Where all the other parties put their spokespeople standing up straight behind lecterns, the three SocDems had barstools at a high table.
Although they had to stand in the end because the backdrop fell down and nearly hit them. The stools were used to prop it up. Then their short video slowed and slurred its words twice.
Because this was a briefing about business, Stephen Donnelly made the presentation. He was joined by two candidates who are business people: Glenna Lynch (Dublin Bay South) and Liam Coyne (Dublin South-Central). They got to speak very briefly at the beginning of proceedings.
Donnelly, on the other hand, talked and talked and talked. Just as well he was only on the water. What would he have been like with a few half-ones on board?
It’s probably good that his fellow non-leaders Catherine Murphy and Róisín Shortall weren’t present, although it would have been interesting to note their reactions when their colleague said there was a mood in business for “moving voluntarily” from paying the minimum wage (€9.15) to paying a living wage (assessed at €11.30).
A youthful press officer sat to one side, perched on a barstool like a boyband veteran, one foot stretched out to touch the ground and the other resting on the cross-rail.
With the prospect of a hung Dáil in the air, the SocDems could be in the mix as potential government partners. Yet the press officer firmly ruled out any questions on this important topic, saying only business-related questions would be taken. And why not? It’s not like the party is at 2 per cent in the polls and needs all the publicity it can get.
But questions were asked anyway. In the end, despite some eye-rolling from the wings, Donnelly answered.
The Social Democrats are just seven months old and still have to decide certain matters .
“We will be coming back to the red-line issues,” he promised, before performing the inevitable coalition hokey-cokey. “We are not ruling anybody in or anybody out.”
But on one red-line issue they are very sure: they want to cut the red tape which is holding back Irish business.
For that very purpose there was a scissors on their high table and a line of Christmassy red ribbon stuck to the outside edge.
They forgot to cut it.
Transport policy
Meanwhile, the Greens met outside the Mansion House at midday to unveil their public transport policy for the capital city. “We’ll be getting a bus!” warned the invitation.
Everyone toddled over abstemiously from the Irish Whiskey Museum.
Party leader Eamon Ryan (Dublin Bay South) was there, along with former TD Ciaran Cuffe, who chairs Dublin City Council’s transport committee. Also present were candidates Caroline Conroy (Dublin North-West) and Tom Kivlehan (Dublin Mid-West).
No sign of the bus.It was bitterly cold. Time passed. Then more time again. Ciaran went off and bought coffees.
No sign of the bus. Lots of them passed by the Mansion House – Dublin buses, Bus Éireann coaches, sightseeing buses. Each time one appeared, someone would ask, “is this us now?”
Eamon swore they didn’t do this deliberately to show how awful traffic is in Dublin city centre. Their bus was stuck somewhere around Parnell Square, apparently.
Handlers made anxious phone calls. No sign. Nearly half an hour had gone by.
The party leader, swaddled in a top coat, varsity scarf and a flat cap, started to apologise. He looked worried. A phone rang – probably Gilbert O’Sullivan looking for his flat cap back.
Perhaps, suggested the ever-courteous Eamon, himself and Ciaran could tell the reporters about their plan there and then and they could ask their questions, in case they were in a hurry. So everyone huddled around and the briefing began. It didn’t last long.
There was a man roaring on the sidelines. What was going on? Everyone looked over, but it was only George Hook, who began talking at Ciaran Cuffe. Eamon, looking bemused, stood back and watched.
“He’s tagging along with the party leader for his show,” whispered a party handler. “Creating havoc.”
Having lost his right-hand man, the party leader tried to start his briefing. He spoke quietly, outlining why Dublin needs a directly elected lord mayor.
“Internal combustion engine!” bellowed the broadcaster. “This is not about George in his car!”
Eamon talked about the need to improve the cycling infrastructure and provide cheaper student fares.
Hook was having his picture taken with Cuffe.
“This is worth half a quota!” he bellowed at Ciaran, who isn’t standing for election.
Ryan sighed.
Perished
The transport – an open-top bus – came 40 minutes late. We were perished with the cold. And the Greens’ bus was red.
“Just get in!” shouted a handler, although George had already left by then. There was a printed notice stuck on the windscreen: “Out of Service.”
Eamon couldn’t apologise enough for the delay.
“Get Ciaran,” cried somebody. “The driver wants to know the route.”
“Just tell the driver he can start,” sighed Eamon, rather brusquely.
The photographers, standing, massed at the front of the bus and the politicians sat towards the rear. Ciaran Cuffe was standing on a seat.
The bus lurched forward alarmingly, throwing the photographers into a heap. It was a miracle that Ciaran wasn’t thrown through the window of St Ann’s Church.
The driver did a quick loop around Trinity College, the photographers dropping like nine pins.
“We have to look for old people scared, caught in the middle of the road,” said Cuffe, explaining that the traffic lights don’t give pedestrians enough time.
He had enough time to shout a warning to Irish Times photographer Brenda Fitzsimons, who otherwise would have been decapitated by the railway bridge in Pearse Street.
Eamon gave a running commentary, drawing particular attention to the Green Party headquarters on Nassau Street.
It was a lovely diversion.
“Me knickers are ringing,” said one of the passengers as we disembarked . A strange place to keep your mobile phone, we remarked.
Note: never sit upstairs on an open-top bus after a shower of rain.
