In Kildare Street and Sesame Street, the numbers don't add up

RADIO REVIEW: THE PUBLIC MOOD toward politicians has been veering wildly between anger, frustration and helplessness

RADIO REVIEW:THE PUBLIC MOOD toward politicians has been veering wildly between anger, frustration and helplessness. But Ceann Comhairle John O'Donoghue's expenses scandal appears to have united and energised people against the government – and the Fianna Fáil party in particular – like Bertie Ahern's personal financial troubles never could.

On Wednesday's The Right Hook(Newstalk, weekdays) George Hook broadcast from Tipperary on his "A Country Worth Fighting For" roadshow. Hook balked at the free-for-life carparking for politicians at Leinster House – which comes in very handy when they go Christmas shopping with their wives, I'm told – and called the Dáil bar and restaurant the ultimate private members' club.

The roadshow was essentially an open mic and full of impassioned commentary from listeners. One elderly man talked about his childhood: “Go back to the time when there was no industrial wage, no jobs. I worked for £10 a week, six days a week. We were lucky to have butter. Many a day I wouldn’t have had a breakfast or dinner if I didn’t have a rabbit in the pot. We went to the school barefooted six months of the year when we didn’t have the price of shoes. We will be back to them days if we don’t get up and help ourselves .”

He added, “If this country was run by a government we would be kings of the world.”

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On Tuesday's The Spin(Spin 103.8, weekdays), Clare McKenna and Jonathan McCrea had to fill the void between callers, who didn't always have much to add to the national debate. One listener, Max, was at the end of his tether: "There's only so much we can take, honest to Jesus Christ. It's turning into Sesame Streetnow, the Dáil, you know that kind of way? I'm giving out, but I'm not going to do something. I don't know what to do, but we should do something, you know that kind of way?" Max thought Ryanair CEO Michael O'Leary should run the country. A populist and unconstitutional choice, but plastic seats in the Dáil and a thr'penny bit to use the facilities might be just what they need right now.

Kerryman and former All-Ireland GAA player Páidí Ó Sé was less upset about the government.

On his friend O'Donoghue's extravagant expenses, he told Ger Gilroy on Lunchtime(Newstalk, weekdays), "I'd like to wonder, do they expect Mr O'Donoghue to stay in a three-star hotel over there in Cheltenham, or a two-star hotel or do they want him to stay in a B&B?" How about whatever comes after a B&B?

He added, “Mr O’Donoghue travelled as a statesman to sell Ireland.” Yes, but . . . he wasn’t a statesman. He was a Minister, and not a very senior one at that.

Ó Sé wasn’t finished; he inadvertently held up a mirror to our political system, and it wasn’t pretty: “He has come from a dynasty, a dynasty of a family who have given their life to public life, to the colour jersey that I wear. My experience of John O’Donoghue is that he is a very, very humble man . . . He likes go to the racehorses, he likes to have a few pints in the Fiachra Bar in Cahirciveen and he likes to go to a local match in South Kerry.”

He painted a picture of a man who would happily wear Bertie Ahern’s old anorak when riding in the back of a limo.

Save your sympathies for poor Ronan Collins (RTÉ Radio One, weekdays) who wouldn’t hurt a fly. All he does is play requests every day in that no-man’s land between 12 and one o’clock, and even that goes unappreciated. It’s a thankless job, but his listeners can be demanding and rude when they want to have their favourite songs and birthday wishes played by the state broadcaster.

On Tuesday, Collins played Petula Clark's I Couldn't Live Without Your Love. ("You're the only one that I rely on/A shoulder there for me to cry on . . .") Afterwards, while leafing through the requests, the usually jolly Collins almost cracked. He had had just about enough of the snarky text messages.

“You’re allowed have longer messages if you want,” he said. “It’s nice when there’s a name on the end of it as well.” Well, excuse us.

Regaining his happy tone, Collins took a breath and resigned himself to the situation: “The old text can sometimes be kind of sharp and abrasive. But it’s there for you!”

Word of advice: don’t get on the wrong side of him.