DrapierWhat a week it was. The Christmas tree lights went on and the turkey dinners started in the dining room. In their offices, deputies sat signing piles of Christmas cards and anticipated the Budget on Wednesday.
There was anger in both Houses about the possible use of Shannon by the Americans for transferring prisoners for interrogation or worse. Assurances had been sought and given that nothing "untoward" was happening but there were calls for inspections and for the word of the Yanks not to be taken at face value.
Drapier was amused to see the Seanad's Panto Dames Mary O'Rourke and David Norris linking up on this issue. But it's a good idea to allow a House Committee deal with it, given the Government's usual fear of ruffling American diplomatic feathers.
In recent times Budget day has struggled to retain its traditional decorum. The scramble for ringside passes for the speech is no more. Yet the superintendent continues the ritual of allocating a pass for each deputy even though they will not be sought after.
Even the secrecy around the Budget provisions has lost its relevance these days in a world of pre-Budget media spin. The midnight sitting is a hangover from the past when measures had to be introduced overnight, and the locked doors of the Dáil chamber harks back to when the market sensitivity of the Budget changes required incarceration of deputies until the Minister's speech had been delivered in full.
This year there were no votes because there were no increased taxes. It was all good giveaway news.
As expected, the Budget delivered a cash bonanza for couples with preschool children by way of increased child benefit and a new payment for the under-sixes. Paying the extra cash directly to the mother is an efficient way for the State to contribute to the costs of early childcare, while staying neutral as between working mums and women in the home. Previous skirmishes with the Nora Bennis brigade have been salutary in this regard and a universal payment to all is the way to go in Drapier's view. Judging by the legions of double buggies around the country, there are plenty of couples with three kids under six who will appreciate the extra €240 every month tax-free.
The major boost for carers and pensioners continues the focus on the elderly, an area to which Mary Harney is said to be personally committed. Her homecare package is a welcome change in direction away from the institutionalisation of the elderly towards supporting them in their homes.
But even as Brian Cowen was delivering his good news, the public's attention was directed by the demise of the hapless Ivor Callely. On the morning of Budget day, Charlie Bird broke a story, which marked the end of Ivor's self-styled brilliant career. By Thursday when the Taoiseach rose to make his Budget speech, the chamber resembled a bear pit. Bertie was pale, even gaunt, as he announced the resignation and in normal circumstances that should have been the end of it.
Out of common humanity, there is a tradition of respect for the defunctus officio in here. Alas such sympathy was not forthcoming on this occasion. Everything in his office became him like the leaving of it. Instead of making the usual personal statement to the Dáil, Ivor chose to go on Pat Kenny's radio show.
This seeming slight to the House had the Opposition baying for blood and the furore lasted for well over an hour. In fairness to the Taoiseach, he had offered to make time available for Callely to make a statement but he couldn't force him to do so. For a brief moment the plot escaped the script. Drapier recalled the hair-raising unpredictability of earlier resignations and sackings.
As the temperature rose, Ivor appeared to shrink into his seat with a glazed, and even manic smile nailed to his features. Some colleagues offered unheard words of support and advice.
The chamber descended to the level of a bar-room brawl. Despite the best efforts of the Ceann Comhairle to keep order and move on to the Budget speeches, the fracas continued. Drapier could have predicted the loudest voices. As usual the Opposition reached blindly and collectively for the blunderbuss.
Ruairí Quinn pontificated about the "smothering of democracy"; Damian English wondered how he would explain all this to school kids; Seán Ryan accused the chair of protecting the Government, a slur which saw him thrown out. Enda Kenny tried to feebly drag us all back to the nursing home charges fiasco.
Not to be left out, Conor Lenihan called someone a liar and, like the kebabs, had to withdraw it.
Progressive Democrat Minister of State Tom Parlon resiled from his earlier claim of a conspiracy. When Willie O'Dea threw in a fist, a roar went up . . . No row is complete without the Limerick street fighter.
For the most part, the women deputies cast a cold eye on the proceedings.
On the margins of all this, the scrap between Michael McDowell and journalist Frank Connolly was played out, culminating in the withdrawal of funding by American philanthropist Chuck Feeney from the Centre for Public Inquiry. Drapier was always suspicious about this self-appointed body with foreign funding and there will be no tears shed in here for its demise. McDowell has been sparring for a fight with Connolly.
Sinn Féin's connection with Farc had disastrous financial implications for the party's fundraising in Irish corporate America. And now the same fate has befallen the centre headed by Frank Connolly.