Dark days as plug pulled on illuminating Oireachtas gathering

DAIL SKETCH:IT'S A nice tradition, the annual switching on of the Leinster House Christmas tree lights.

Peter the usher marches down the steps playing his bagpipes while a choir drawn from Oireachtas staff sings carols they’ve been practising in their spare time and the party leaders temporarily set aside their hostilities for the season that’s in it.

Last year, the Dublin Gospel Choir added to the gaiety and even the Taoiseach forgot his woes for a few minutes when he sang along with them.

This year’s ceremony was scheduled to take place today. It’s only a small event but it cheered people up, if only for a little while.

Now it’s been cancelled.

The gloom is getting gloomier.

And what of the pensioners from nearby Pearse Street community centre, who were brought in by mini-bus for the happy occasion and then treated to tea and sandwiches afterwards? Leinster House is a bun-free zone for them today.

Mind you, in the last couple of years, some of them confided that while it was still “lovely” it hasn’t been the same since poor Bertie departed. He had a way with the OAPs.

So why has it been scrapped? Lots of reasons, all of which can be put down to our old friend, health and safety.

Given his run of bad luck since becoming Taoiseach, it was a minor miracle Brian Cowen hadn’t been electrocuted when flicking the switch on his previous two outings. Perhaps better not to leave himself open to a case of third time unlucky.

And with an election just around the corner, getting Enda and Eamon together in the one spot beside a large electrical item would have sparked a very dangerous power surge.

How would the Ceann Comhairle have coped if a fight broke out between the party leaders? Endless permutations there.

Of course, there was always the very real worry that John Gormley would pull the plug. He’s good at that.

Then there’s the optics. The public is not in any mood to see their political leaders standing together looking happy. Although it’s very likely that while they would have stood together today, the usual air of bonhomie would have been rather strained, to put it mildly.

Not to mention the weather. Passersby on Merrion Street (provided they have a strong arm and steady aim) could cause havoc with snowballs if they saw a collection of our finest politicians assembled in full view on the lawn.

Taking everything into consideration, the Ceann Comhairle Séamus Kirk and his Seanad counterpart Pat Moylan took a joint decision to call the whole thing off.

“They have decided this year to break from tradition as the main participants in the ceremony, the party leaders, have other more pressing demands and priorities this time,” an Oireachtas spokesman told us yesterday.

The tree will be switched on by an unseen hand, probably under cover of darkness.

The twinkling lights will thus cheer discontented citizens outside the Merrion Street gates while they shake their fists at Leinster House.

But Christmas has not been cancelled. A fine tree is up and decorated in the entrance hall. This year, the colour theme is white. Obviously it should be red, in sympathy with the national finances, but nobody needs reminding of that.

They talk of nothing else, which is why this sketch is a bailout-free area today.

The choice of baubles is interesting.

Peacocks and balls.

Make of that what you will.

In the chamber, the Opposition lustily sang “Deck the halls with Biffo’s folly”. Enda summed up his approach to handling the economy as “do the deal in Brussels and let them eat cheese”. The Taoiseach found it all a bit repetitive, presenting, as he put it, a “counter-factual” voice to their chorus.

That means “alternative”, he explained, challenging Enda and Eamon to come up with one to his Government’s plans.

The Sinn Féin glee club swelled with the addition of Pearse Doherty, who proudly took his seat in the Dáil following his win in the Donegal byelection last Friday. His mother Gráinne and wife Róisín watched him with pride from the distinguished visitors’ gallery.

His party leader, Gerry Adams, was stalking the corridors and sliding his tray along the self-service counter in the canteen with the rest of the deputies, like he is already a TD for Louth.

Jarry’s prospects will have improved with yesterday’s announcement from Dermot Ahern, Fianna Fáil’s big beast in that constituency, that he will not be standing next time.

The reality of life in the Dáil hit home quickly for young Pearse, who found himself sitting next to Fine Gael veteran PJ Sheehan.

PJ, who is also hanging up his expenses come the general election, is already beginning to wind down if his exuberant performance yesterday was anything to go by.

The same might be said for the Taoiseach, who seemed far less care-worn and crotchety than usual.

As he listened to Sinn Féin’s Caoimhghín Ó Caoláin take an age to ask him a question, Biffo moved his head from side to side with each sub-clause, trying to anticipate when he might be able to rise and punch back an answer.

“I feel like Bruce Grobbelaar here,” he declared, likening himself to the former Liverpool goalkeeper.

There were statements, more bloody statements – it’s all they do in the Dáil, on the bailout. Or “Stability and the Budgetary Process” as the Government preferred to call it.

But never mind all that talk, the big story yesterday was that Jackie Healy-Rae appears to have had a makeover.

That trademark molten liquorice look was gone and his hair, which appeared shorter and lighter, was combed back instead of pooled across his forehead like a stubborn oil slick. He looked like a rather raffish Arthur Lowe, particularly with his trendy little roundy spectacles.

Now if that isn’t something to celebrate, what is? Bring back the choir and the bagpipes!