Nostalgia makes the hero infallible. It also masks his failures

Sunday Tribune 6 September

I was nine when my father brought me to his office for the first time. My stomach was in a knot as we drove up Nutley Lane. I was the luckiest boy in the world. Some kids' dads worked in paperclip warehouses or counted traffic cones for a living – mine worked in RTÉ .
My cheeks burned as I met people "from the telly" that afternoon. Professionally unsmiling newsreaders smiled at me and shook my hand. I discovered they even had legs or, in the case of towering Charles Mitchell, stilts. Snow-capped Don Cockburn wore bicycle clips as he saluted us from the shadow of the radio mast. Maurice O'Doherty's magnificent deadpan face creased into a grin as he traded affectionate insults with my father.
Then there was the Wanderly Wagon. It stole the show. We turned a corner and it practically "yahooed!!" at us, all showy bright paint, parked beside the slick glass TV building. Judge and O'Brien's caravan was taking a break from its adventures and I was allowed to touch it.
"Is Judge inside there?"
"He's probably in the canteen having his tea."
Over 30 years later I can still recall the excitement of seeing Wanderly Wagon glistening in the sun. Moments like those bind fathers and sons.
Last week, 1974's Safe Cross Code TV ad, featuring the Wanderlies, was relaunched. All together now: "One, look for a safe place. Two, don't hurry…" I was brought back to sunny summer holidays in Laytown. It never rains in your memories, nostalgia is a great umbrella.
Last week, the boy in the ad was 'outed' as Fianna Fáil TD, Chris Andrews. That's handy: when times are rough in the Dáil he can start singing and all will be forgiven in a swell of nostalgia.
On Thursday, his cousin Ryan Tubridy dipped into the past too. He told how Gay Byrne had advised him about the Late Late. The nostalgia chord was struck. Is he the new Gaybo? We were told that the original theme tune was returning, revamped. Nostalgia as a sales tool – if you forget that Gay's show was insufferable at times. Just because we associate something with our youth doesn't mean it was any good.
The same could be said of Oasis, who have announced their split. Last week I played 'Don't Look Back in Anger' in honour of my 20s. Memories of the '90s, and the Tiger party kicking off, came tumbling back. Nostalgia. Only the party is over and now we have Nama to cure our hangover.
As I moshed about in my past, another generation recalled theirs, watching Ted Kennedy's funeral. Poor Teddy. Bereaved brother, raconteur, peacemaker – he came good in the end. Nostalgia can make heroes of us all. Even if we have a dead girl in our car, or years wasted philandering.
Another American hero returned last week to re-run news reels in our heads. Ali, still handsome but almost entombed by disease, came to meet his cousins. "Float like a butterfly…" I remember crying when he lost to Leon Spinks in 1978.
Nostalgia makes gods out of heroes, despite their flaws. Ali nearly destroyed arch-enemy Joe Frazier with his cruel "Uncle Tom" taunts. He nearly broke his own wife too, when he flaunted his new girlfriend on TV in Manila while she watched at home. A hero with feet of clay. Cassius Clay.
Nostalgia is the opiate of the masses in post-boom Ireland. Instead of facing the present, we're constantly looking back. This is because the past is a Nama-free country. There are no repossessions when you live in a Wanderly Wagon or parking fines on our Safe Cross Code roads. There are no greasy politicians like John O'Donoghue, just prodigal statesmen like Teddy. There are only heroes, like Ali.
We turn to our childhood because it's preferable to being a grown-up at the moment. We want someone older and wiser to make things better. That's why so many people listened to Garret FitzGerald when he backed Nama last week. He represents an heroic age, spent battling recession and CJ Haughey. Garret is part Ali, Teddy and cuddly Wanderly Judge. Most of all, Garret is the nation's grandad. "If Garret says Nama is okay, then…"
Nostalgia makes the hero infallible. It also masks his failures. Garret made one of the greatest unforced errors in political history. He brought down his government by trying to tax children's shoes in 1981.
Nostalgia makes us forget the Messiah is human. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe, by blinkering us, nostalgia helps us fulfil a human desire to start trusting again. Maybe a leap of faith with Garret is what we need – we're potentially knackered any way you look at it.
When I was 11, I was tall enough to finally see over the half door of the Wanderly Wagon. I climbed up, trembling with excitement. My dad watched my heart crash through the floor. There was no Judge, no O'Brien. There wasn't even a table and chairs. Just bare wood. Wanderly Wagon was a shell, an illusion.
Thirty years on, Safe Cross Judge is back on TV, teaching a future politician how to cross the road. Thirty years on, Fianna Fáil still has muppet advisers.
Considering the past, that's still one hard illusion to shatter.

dkenny@tribune.ie

September 6, 2009

Want to redeem yourself Harney? That'll be €7m

Sunday Tribune 30 August


Here's a trivia question: which minister was first to impose a smoke ban on Dublin? Micheál Martin or Mary Harney? Here's a clue: it was a no-brainer of a decision.
If you're over 30 you'll remember how thick smog used to choke Dublin's streets on still winter evenings. As a teenager working for the Irish Press; I used to dread those nights when it turned Burgh Quay into a horror movie set. My first 'job' was death-notice messenger, which was macabre enough without added atmosphere. Undertakers would phone in their notices, ask for a copy to be sent to the Indo and I would be flung, jibbering, out the door with a ream of print-outs.
Eight times a night I crossed the Liffey with a list of dead people under my arm, terrified that some nutjob would lunge out of the smog at me. Then, in 1990, Harney banned 'smoking' bituminous coal and the smog vanished forever. It was one of her best achievements.
Nineteen years later, she says she wants to ban sunbeds. Getting rid of something that's bad for you is a "no-brainer", she said last week.
Her old friend, Bertie Ahern, doesn't believe in getting rid of something that's bad for us – namely himself. He's indicated that he will stand again if there is a snap election, to make up FF numbers. To Bertie this is a no-brainer. He's right – only the brainless would think it a good idea to put him back in the Dáil.
Ahern, the man who blew the boom, is proof that all political careers end in failure. The same may be said of Harney. She started out so well though. When she was expelled from Fianna Fáil in 1985 for defying Haughey over the Anglo Irish agreement, many of us thought, 'Here's a woman with integrity.' We saw the formation of the PDs and thought, 'New liberal party with integrity. Looking good,' and then watched as Fianna Fáil slowly enveloped it, like a grubby smog.
The first signs of Harney reverting to FF type came in 2001 when she used a government plane to fly her to the opening of a friend's off-licence in Manorhamilton. (She's since been embroiled in the Fás expenses scandal.) Despite this, many still had high hopes for her when she took over Health in 2004.
Her first move was to set up the HSE. Two years later, the Euro Health Consumer Index ranked our healthcare 26th in Europe – out of 26 countries. In 2008, we were ranked 11 out of 31. So some improvement there, and there are others to be fair. Such as in monitoring of standards and infrastructure. The overhaul of St Vincent's is a good example of the latter in Dublin. Saying that, Loughlinstown is terrifying.
Standards, in general, are getting better in our hospitals. The problem is getting into one. Waiting lists are a disgrace. For instance, don't get a hernia in Tallaght. There is an 11-month wait to get it repaired at Tallaght hospital. By comparison, in Britain, the maximum wait for any procedure is 18 weeks. For suspected cancer it's two.
Wrap your children in cotton wool, too. Last Wednesday, Crumlin said it didn't know when the 25-bed ward and operating theatre there would reopen – it's been closed since May.
Other areas are dreadful too: stroke, mental health, cystic fibrosis care… The HSE is still an overstaffed, incompetent mess and responsibility for this lies with Harney.
Last week, Labour's Jan O'Sullivan said Harney has "lost interest in the job. She hides behind the HSE and doesn't want to engage with people." When she does, her "dictatorial approach backs people into corners" and makes matters worse.
All the signs point to this. Harney's best days are behind her. Her party's dead. Health – the job no one wants – is now a sinecure for her, like Ahern's Dáil seat is one for him. They both share the same breathtaking level of arrogance and self-entitlement.
Occasionally, she ventures out of Fortress HSE and makes a pronouncement. Last week it was about sunbeds. Harney told Lance Armstrong's cancer conference that she was looking into banning them. She was talking rubbish. In 2006 she said she would introduce legislation banning children from using them – and it still hasn't arrived. How long would it take her to bring in an all-out ban? She could do it tomorrow, if she really was interested. Her department, by the way, doesn't even fund any skin cancer awareness campaigns.
Harney made a fool of herself last week. The international reaction to her halting of the €7m cervical-cancer vaccine scheme was mortifying. She is looking for cuts of €800m from the HSE and can't spare €7m to save lives. Up to 80 women a year die from cervical cancer. What is the cost of treating a cancer patient, minister?
All political careers end in failure. Some will remember Harney as the minister who banned smog. All of us will remember her for failing to protect Irish women.
Harney has become an arrogant, cantankerous journeywoman. She's not stupid – she knows she can redeem herself. The only thing standing in her way is pride. And a paltry €7m.
It's a no-brainer, Mary.

dkenny@tribune.ie

August 30, 2009