Wallet-watchers get that 1970s feeling

RadioReview: We could have done with economist David McWilliams a lot earlier in the Budget coverage proceedings - he certainly added a bit of colour when he eventually came on air in the last few minutes of Five Seven Live (RTÉ Radio 1, Wednesday).

Brian Cowen, he said, should have stood up in the Dáil wearing flares, a permed wig and a Bay City Rollers jacket. "His Budget," said McWilliams, after planting that rather alarming image in our minds, "was straight from the 1970s." He didn't actually mean that it was a copy of a budget from that oil crises ridden, stratospheric personal taxation decade. It was, he clarified, a "Pope's children" Budget.

It might be worth pointing out to those not familiar with McWilliams's slick economic labelling system, that although we've had priests' and even bishops' children, the economist wasn't casting any aspersions in the direction of Rome. He is referring to the generation of people born around the time of Pope John Paul II's visit 30 years ago and suggesting that Cowen's Mothercare Budget was designed to entice those thirtysomethings out to vote for Fianna Fáil come election time.

He made it clear that he doesn't agree with the one-day-wonder aspect of the Budget, calling the annual performance a bit too theatrical for its own good. Both Newstalk106 and RTÉ relayed the Minister's speech live and there was enough phlegmy coughing in the background to suggest an evening at the theatre - although no audience would ever be that poorly behaved. At times it was difficult to hear the Minister above the assorted grunts, snorts and whinnying of the assembled TDs - the poor Ceann Comhairle rang his little bell a couple of times and said "ciúnas" in a schoolmasterly effort to get the over-excited boys to settle down.

The coverage was predictable and formulaic, although RTÉ's on-the-spot analysis was probably more accessible than the others because as well as a couple of number crunchers, Rachel English had Colm Rapple in studio to give an everyman spin on the proceedings.

It's a shame none of the stations managed to lure this year's number one wallet-watcher, Eddie Hobbs, into studio to give his take on things.

Every time I turned over to Newstalk to hear how George Hook was getting on with his very dull extended coverage on The Right Hook (Newstalk, Wednesday) he was spluttering in amazement about the €1000 annual payment to the under sixes as if it is riches beyond all imagining instead of what it is - a month's worth of creche fees and a couple of visits to the doctor. RTÉ, having a bigger budget than the other stations, was able to fund a roving reporter so Philip Boucher-Hayes provided a bit of colour from Celbridge where he met a group of parents furious about the special treatment for pre-schoolers to the exclusion of their older brothers and sisters because it implied that once children turn six they're in some magical way cheaper to parent.

Matt Cooper's coverage on The Last Word (Today FM) - another extended programme - was lively and he was quick off the mark in getting relevant interest groups on the line for their reactions. Mary Cloake, head of the Arts Council, still managed to quibble about the €250,000 tax free cap on artists' earnings. She bolstered her hopeless argument with the scenario of a writer spending 10 years on a novel and then selling it for over the magic quarter of a million mark and so finding himself in the tax net. There can't have been too many listeners who'd join her in plucking that particular violin.

The national broadcaster has the trump card in Budget coverage: as per tradition, the Minister for Finance came into the studio to take calls from listeners to Today with Pat Kenny (RTÉ Radio 1, Thursday).

However for the second day in a row, he was only the support act to the real drama. Once again, former minister of state for transport Ivor Callely managed to upstage Cowen in what has to be the most extraordinary radio interview of a politician this year. "Have you resigned?" asked Kenny, at least half a dozen times in a tone that teetered on the verge of impatience. Each time Callely, who was so deep in denial he'd need a shovel the size of Munster to dig himself out of this hole, ignored the question. The gist of his rambling defence was that no one sent him a bill for the paint job, his secretary has been with him for 16 years so he's a grand person to work for and anyway, the whole thing is a conspiracy against him. Any action he took now was to protect his family from any more media intrusion. "Even if you resign, people won't stop asking questions," Kenny reminded the once publicity-hungry northsider so publicly choking on his own hubris.