I think Owen Keegan is following me. Years ago, I pretty much discontinued going into Dublin because of Mr Keegan's introduction of wheel-clamping to the hitherto congenial streets of Dublin.
Occasionally, I broke my resolve. On one such occasion, when I went into the city to pick up my infant daughter, I got clamped on South William Street. I parked in a designated parking bay for about seven minutes while I went to a nearby cafe to have her bottle heated. I had no change for the meter but, it being nearly 6pm on a Saturday, made a run for it.
When I returned, the sad souls from Control Plus had begun their sordid work. Pleas and explanations were ignored. I had no credit cards and almost no money. Had a friend not been in the vicinity, I'd have been stuck there for hours, unable to get my child.
I can reveal that my virtual elimination of trips into Dublin following this outrage was the true cause of the demise of Bewley's cafes. Since then, I have made my home in Dún Laoghaire, where I sink my lattes in Harry's cafe on the main drag. Once a drug-infested backwater, Dún Laoghaire has lately become a miracle of cosmopolitanism, with the Pavilion development in particular opening up a previously dormant connection between town and harbour and exhibiting a "Mediterranean" demeanour when the sun shines.
The only downside has been the introduction of draconian parking restrictions, not just in Dún Laoighaire town, but also in the satellite towns of Monkstown, Blackrock, Sandycove, Glasthule and Dalkey. There is virtually no free parking left anywhere, and two sets of traffic wardens patrol the streets seeking victims.
There has consequently been a visible deterioration in the town's commercial life, most notably in the main shopping centre, where several units remain closed. Nevertheless, DúLaoghaire remained prosperous and agreeable.
But then came Owen Keegan. It was clear from his appointment as head of traffic with Dublin Corporation that Mr Keegan did not like motor vehicles or their drivers. He introduced a series of traffic restrictions in Dublin with no purpose but to drive drivers mad.
Once, for example, you could turn right from George's Street on to Dame Street. At a stroke of Mr Keegan's pen, this simple manoeuvre was arbitrarily outlawed, and anyone wanting to access College Green from George's Street had to detour around Christchurch and up the quays. In any other context, such stupidity would be seen for what it is, but Mr Keegan was knowingly playing to a gallery of bicycle-clipped commentators guaranteed to hail every attempt to stick it to the motorist, regardless of legality or sense.
Now county manager of Dún Laoghaire-Rathdown, Mr Keegan recently announced the introduction of wheel-clamping for drivers who neglect to pay parking fines. Apparently, 40 per cent of fines remain unpaid because the courts are snarled up. There are those who piously intone that the law must be upheld at all costs, but there are bad, stupid and inhumane laws which the citizen is duty-bound to flout, and such a law is wheel-clamping. I use the word "law" in its loosest sense.
Mr Keegan recently boasted to the newspapers that he had created a bylaw that enabled him to introduce clamping without reference to the council chamber. Translation: he has found a way of circumventing democracy and imposing on the people of Dún Laoghaire a sanction which their public representatives have many times declared would never be introduced. Undoubtedly, the fines issue is just a pretext to introduce routine clamping by the back door.
Towns like Dún Laoghaire are under grave threat from shopping malls which have all the advantages of urban space and few of the downsides. In Dundrum Town Centre, just 15 minutes down the M50 from Dún Laoghaire, you can park for three hours for just €2. Although the lure of Starbucks and TGI Friday's is scant competition for Harry's Thai chicken noodle soup, the risk of having your car clamped for the sake of a five-minute meter overrun might swing it for enough people to make a serious difference to Dún Laoghaire.
I recently noted speculation to the effect that wheel-clamping might soon be struck down by the European Court as a fundamental attack on the human rights of citizens. This has yet to be tested, but I'd be surprised if the outcome of such a case did not invite Mr Keegan to stick his clamps where the sun don't shine.
In a modern society, a motor car is, for better or worse, an extension of the self, an essential means of getting about and taking care of business and responsibility. To clamp the motor vehicle of a citizen, therefore, is tantamount to withdrawing that person's liberty for the purpose of revenue collection.
It is unthinkable that even Mr Keegan's talent for undemocratic legislation could succeed in the reintroduction of the stocks, and yet citizens stand disconsolately by as this menace to society introduces by stealth a tyranny just as immobilising of personal liberty, and therefore equally monstrous.