Firhouse man
The late Sean Hughes made a contribution to homelessness and prostate screening writes Maurice Gueret, who is on the lookout for hippies with health insurance
Funny Man
You could be a long time waiting for the Dublin suburb of Firhouse to appear on the news. Then, just like the old 49A bus, three mentions trundle along together and Templeogue’s sleepy younger sibling is all over the papers. First, the Scientologists arrived, greeted humorously by ‘Keep Tom Cruise out of Firhouse’ placards. Then a young local lad, Ibrahim Halawa, was granted release from a dark dungeon in Cairo and Firhouse hit headlines again. But the news that hit hardest here was the lonely death of comic genius Sean Hughes in London. I grew up along the nearby banks of the Dodder, and though we went to different schools, I knew him to see in the locality. The cheeky grin and cool north London accent were no put-on. In an extraordinary coincidence, Hughes died at the Whittington Hospital where he was born 52 years before. The beneficiaries from his premature death are homeless folk on the streets of London to whom he left a substantial house. The rest of us can remember a very, very funny man who like many comics, was underappreciated until his lights went out. He was no stranger to health services in recent years and his contribution to prostate-gland screening was legendary. He would tell audiences that ‘you have never lived until a man has put a finger up your arse’. Looking forward to it, Sean. Rest up.
Children of Lir
I’m as puzzled as anybody with the naming of our new kid’s hospital. I don’t think many children were consulted about the appellation. Phoenix is more like a word from a tricky spelling test. All hospitals end up being abbreviated by patients and doctors alike. We don’t say Our Lady’s Children’s Hospital or Our Lady’s Hospital for Sick Children — we say Crumlin. The longwinded Coombe Women and Infants University Hospital is the Coombe. And so on. No matter how they string the final name out, this new place will have to be called the Phoenix. Young children might think they are on the way to Dublin Zoo in the Phoenix Park. What are the HSE to do with their 54-bed mental health facility at Grangegorman which was opened in 2013 and proudly called the Phoenix Care Centre? It’s too late to change the hospital location — I wish them well with the shoehorn. But it’s not too late to admit that Phoenix does little but confuse. Ireland has no connection with a mythical 500-year-old bird that flapped around the Arabian desert. Children of Lir Hospital — now that I would understand. In fact Phoenix is such a poor choice that I’d rather visit the Bord Gais Energy Hospital instead.
Power Shower
What is it with politicians and baths? Bad news for each other. Parliamentarians should stick with power showers. The latest legislator to get a public wetting is a Tory MP who told a BBC radio show that he likes nothing more than to spend a full hour every day in the bath. The back of his neck may be spotless but journalists quickly dug the dirt on his expense claims and found that he had submitted £662 in bills to the taxpayer for his hot-water supply. In ancient Rome, senators transacted much of their business in public baths. Some emporia had special rooms set aside for dirty deals. Baths got a bad name in France when politician and doctor Jean Paul Marat was murdered in his during the aftermath of their famous Revolution. I have written before about Portugese dictator Antonio Salazar who slipped in the bath, sustained a brain haemorrhage and was never the same fascist again. A famous bath featured in Irish politics some years back when Minister for Public Enterprise Mary O’Rourke disclosed that she was in one when she heard of the resignation of the chairman of CIE. Her seat disappeared down the plughole at the very next election.
Leo’s Latte
Young Leo is proving to be much more entertaining as Taoiseach than he ever was as health minister. I think he actually enjoys his new job. International media love him too. His updating of the term ‘smoked salmon socialist’ to ‘latte socialist’ received column space on foreign shores. Other nations have their own tags for a ffluent pinkos. It’s ‘chardonnay socialist’ in Australia and ‘hippie con Osde’ in Argentina. Osde is the best private health insurance that allows you to see more doctors than any other! I suspect there are many such hippies in our own Dail and Seanad, perhaps with a group Osde scheme.