Homes crisis doesn’t mean we should halt all fun
SENATOR Michael McDowell was his typical undiplomatic self when he drenched Dublin City Council’s plans for a white-water rafting facility in a sea of sardonic home truths.
‘A political obscenity’ and ‘grotesque vanity project’ with a €22.8m price tag was his verdict, which articulated exactly what the masses were thinking.
I wholeheartedly agree and would go one further by suggesting that the canoe-crazy officials who have already spent millions on this idiotic idea should be floated out of their roles with a punctured dinghy instead of a golden parachute.
But the good senator’s pounding of public waste and vanity lost it when he bolstered his argument with homeless crisis rhetoric. His reasoning for panning the plan was drowned out by the ‘what about the homeless?’ tirade brigade.
‘What about the homeless?’ is the lazy retort when State waste is raised, which in this country is a regular occurrence.
Well, what about the homeless? Yes, it is abhorrent that we still have a homeless crisis that successive governments systematically failed to fix. But just because we have a homeless crisis doesn’t mean we can’t have nice things.
Taxpayers should not be denied fun stuff because others don’t have a home.
In an ideal world, we’d have both. But we don’t. While everyone agrees the crisis should be prioritised, there are also times when fun stuff should come first. Taxpayers contribute to solving the problem but we also pay into a system that – just occasionally – should reward us by making our lives better or nicer.
The homeless issue has dogged successive governments, including when Mr McDowell was in power. And while the senator is one of the few involved in politics that I respect, an argument could be raised that getting rid of the pointless Seanad could help solve homelessness. In fact, they could even renovate the building as The Seanad Shelter.
If councillors who claimed ‘virtual’ travel expenses while working from home gave back their claims, surely this money could go a long way.
If those complaining were motivated into action rather than moaning on the Joe Duffy show then, perhaps, we would have more people out enjoying amenities and fewer sleeping in doorways.
That yolk just isn’t funny any more
I AM utterly egg-rieved by the new Cadbury’s advert which depicts two men locking lips sharing a Creme Egg. In fact, I would go so far as to say I find the picture clearly lacks taste.
The very notion that anyone; man, woman, person or penguin would seriously share something as delicious and clearly made to be gobbled by one mouth only, is egg-regious in the eggs-treme.
Cadburys was clearly aiming for a shock and sell-out campaign to bump sales but basic cop-on was missing, given we are in the middle of a global pandemic and any type of mouth-to-mouth contact comes with a health warning.
Melania trumped Jackie in style stakes
AS HER disgruntled husband slunk out of the White House a disgraced president, Melania Trump sashayed out to the waiting helicopter in her usual effortless and delightful style.
With Donald Trump poised to top the polls as America’s worst president ever, the eternally polished Melania topped the poll as the Best Dressed First Lady.
I believe that Melania even outstyled the iconic Jackie Kennedy. For her Washington swansong, Mrs Trump opted for a demure, classic-cut, calf-length dress and Chanel bolero jacket, her newly blonde hair loosely swept up above her trademark 1950s black shades.
While Mrs Trump has been the subject of much derision, nobody could ever fault her style.
True, she did have plenty of money to splash on the world’s best designer clothes but money can’t buy class and fashion flair.
My only criticism is she carried a €50,000 alligator-skin Hermes Birkin bag. But I suppose if you married a reptile, then that is the only arm-candy that can match your mate.
Tress stress after the unkindest cut
THE continued closure of beauty salons has given rise to the great debate: ‘Should you let a family member cut your hair?’ And the long and the short of it is, NO. The lovely long hair you see in my picture on this page is no more, thanks to my mommy-dearest.
My hair needed just a ‘teenyweeny trim’ said my mother who, from childhood recollection, was always fairly handy when doing my hair. In fact, she was the only mum on the block who could perfect a French plait.
But the grown-up me was keenly aware that she was never particularly pleased with my, as she liked to call it, ‘far-too-long’ hair.
I am in no way implying that I don’t fully trust the woman who gave me life and I sought some assurances.
Well, woe betide the trusting me. I should have known when she swore on my father’s life and not on the lives of her three dogs that she was, how should I say, slightly less sincere in her promises to only snip a bit. So, despite some reservations, I allowed her to take to my hair with scissors.
What started as a serene Sunday descended into War of the Walshes as she cut my hair into oblivion or, to be precise, just a bit below my shoulders.
A shouting match of motherdaughter proportions ensued, with my father – whose life she had effectively endangered with her false promises – playing peacemaker between slammed doors. My dad tried to placate me by telling me my hair was ‘only lovely’ and turning to my mum saying: ‘You did a great job.’ But ensconced in my childhood room I heard my dad admit my worst fears.
‘What have you done to her hair? We won’t hear the end of this until it grows back and, judging by the amount you cut, that’s going to be a very, very long time.’
So, I would advise those whose hair may be driving you slightly bonkers that having a feuding family lasts a lot longer and is far more divisive than any split ends could ever be.