RADIO REVIEW:THE GERMANS and French are coming. Everything was ticking along nicely until soon-to-be-visiting Nicolas Sarkozy on Tuesday suggested another referendum on Lisbon, then news broke on Wednesday that Lidl might lease the old Habitat store, writes Quentin Fottrell.
We were content to buy furniture that every Tom, Dick and Harry had, but wonder if the south city centre is the place to buy alien food products from Lidl? Nobody should touch Habitat. The dusty furniture should be preserved as a glass-encased symbol of our human folly.
But does anyone really give a generic brand fiddler's fig roll if Lidl spread further into the city centre? What a bunch of prissy little snobs we are.
It can't be that we don't like the fact that Lidl is a German retailer, especially if you consider all the British chain stores in the city centre. Lidl may not be part of our cultural experience, but it will be. There's nothing like bumping into your Aunty Bernie in Superquinn tasting Denny sausages . . . but what about over a vacuum-packed prosciutto in Lidl?
Marie Hunt, head of research at CB Richard Ellis real estate adviser, told Richard Downes on Wednesday's Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio One, weekdays) that Lidl's interest was a surprise, as it usually targets rural areas, but there are other stores looking into this delicious chunk of medium-rare prime real estate as well.
Downes asked, "What does that tell us about the property market in the most exclusive part of the city?" Hunt said: "Occupiers are finding this a good time to do good deals." Go straight to the top of the class.
"It's not the 80s we're going back to," Downes added, "it's the 50s." He meant the thriftiness, but if only we were going back to the 50s with the legion of family-run stores and elegant tailors.
Grafton Street and its environs are more like Milton Keynes or the Ilac Centre than Bond Street. It's home to Londis, two Burger Kings, one McDonalds, six mobile phone outlets, Accessorize, HMV, M&S, Champion Sports, Top Man, a red-and-black Swarovski Crystal store that looks more like an Ann Summers shop, Grafton Craft selling tricolour feather boas, and Dunnes.
Speaking of which, Ben Dunne was on Liveline (RTÉ Radio One, weekdays) later that day. The Oracle of the Great Unwashed Mushrooms said he would consider running in the European elections on a "No to Lisbon" ticket: "I'll stand in the toughest place to get in." Just like that, Damien O'Reilly had a nice little news story while Joe Duffy is away.
"I think it's a bloody disgrace that they've passed a rule in Europe that we're not allowed cut our own turf," Dunne said.
Before long, he volunteered, "I was kidnapped in Ireland . . ." He appears forever stuck on a treadmill in one of his gyms, huffing-and-puffing that he's over it, he's learnt a lot in his life and that he's moving on, but he never does in interviews.
Dunne added, "Sarkosky is president of Europe at the moment . . ." Who now? "What Sarkesky wants . . ." Jesus, man. If you want to become an MEP, at least get his name right. On the count of three: it's Sarkozy! Sarkozy! Sarkozy!
Meanwhile, in the real world: Jonathan McCrea and Clare McKenna on The Spin (Spin FM, 103.8, weekdays) continue their lightness of touch and bounce well off each other.
When Liveline gets on my wick, The Spin cheers me up. They're the new Liveline. After interviewing Joe Higgins, they summed up his stance on Lisbon nicely: "One out, all out."
Their texters give a valuable insight into the minds of the young people of Ireland. It's not pretty. They were also having problems with Sarkozy's name: "They can hop off with their frogs' legs, Markozy, ha!" Another said, "Who let the frogs out?" McCrea was uncomfortable with that one: "I would have thought that was a bit racist?" McKenna got her spoke in: "Get thee home and watch The Wind That Shakes the Barley."
A texter added: "We're citizens of the universe, that's what I say!" Sounds like somebody should have (a) washed his mushrooms before eating them or (b) refrained from eating the magic ones. Still, I liked his inter-galactic free spirit.
Magnus phoned in, but he was too cool for school, and sounded like he was being door-stepped. Hello? He called them.
He had actually read the information pack on the treaty. "It was an absolute joke," Magnus said. "It boggles the mind about who actually wrote it," adding, "The question now is will the Irish Government bow to his will or stand his ground?"
We should look into Sarkesky's, Sarkosky's or Markozy's Swarovski crystal ball to find out. Like I said, there's a Swarovski on Grafton Street, one shop in that part of town that won't flog you a pair of polyester frilly knickers.
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