Bertie Ahern is not, and has never aspired to be, one of the great orators of our time, writes Noel Whelan. He has, however, in recent years become an increasingly comfortable and effective public speaker.
Being Taoiseach, as Ahern defines the role, involves agreeing to a wide range of public, party and semi-private speaking engagements. After 10 years in the job, he moves with relative ease between these types of events.
For most of these occasions Ahern comes armed with a script or speaking notes prepared by civil servants, advisers or party officials.
More often than not, Ahern confines himself to a competent delivery of the prepared script. The scripts are typically well crafted, but inevitably sound a bit flat when presented like this. They can prove a disappointment for the audience which often expects the Taoiseach of the day to be the star turn.
Given the number of engagements to which he commits himself, it is inevitable and understandable that he cannot sparkle at every occasion.
There are times, however, when Ahern is more relaxed, either because he is less hassled on the day or because he is more comfortable than usual with the event and/or the audience. On these occasions he sparkles, mainly because he decides to break free from the confines of the script.
Anybody who has been in the audience for a number of Ahern speeches can spot the moment coming. The chin rises and his eyes lift from the page. He leans back. He pivots with one hand on the podium. The other hand is either hanging down by his side or, if he is really relaxed, in his pocket.
Then he begins to cut loose. He usually starts with a series of cautious one-liners. If the audience warms to his approach, he abandons the structure of the script and instead enthrals the crowd with a few funny anecdotes. He will often have them laughing in the aisles.
If he feels safe he will have a few subtle and then not so subtle digs at his political or media opponents.
Officials and advisers in the room shuffle nervously in their seats, enjoying "Bertie on the stump" but praying he doesn't come out with something that goes too far.
Bertie on the stump is one of those occasions when he has this capacity to show himself as one of the people rather than head of government. He is on the audience's side, engaged on their behalf against the forces of bureaucracy and the establishment.
It is in these unbridled moments that Ahern's inner political frustrations are laid bare.
It is usually at times like this, for example, that he bemoans the fact that large national infrastructure projects have been held up because of concerns for the habitats of swans or snails.
Ahern had another one of these unbridled moments during his speech to the Ictu in Donegal last Wednesday.
This time his frustration was directed at the way, as he sees it, some economists and commentators seem to be obsessed with talking down the economy. In the Taoiseach's view these same people have been suggesting that downturn was imminent almost every year for the last 10 years. Their concern may be more well-founded now than it was in the past, but his view is that they are simply moaners on the sidelines, speaking of doomsday but offering no solution.
Of course, the Taoiseach made a mistake when he said he could not understand why these people making gloomy predictions about the economy didn't commit suicide.
Nonetheless, some of the reaction to his slip-up has been over the top. Yes, he made a bad choice of words but he did not deliberately set out to offend anyone.
Those who have sought to suggest that these remarks reveal Ahern as insensitive to the plight of those who have been bereaved by suicide have been unfair and unjust.
He simply made an off-the-cuff remark in language which, although appreciated as light-hearted by his audience in the hall, was open to a different interpretation by the wider audience observing it in the media.
When shortly after his speech it was pointed out to him by journalists that his remarks could be seen that way, Ahern quickly apologised.
It was an untypical slip by a politician who is usually hyper-sensitive to the political consequences of everything he utters. As has often been said, Ahern is only inarticulate when it suits him and, like those of Churchill, all his off-the-cuff remarks are usually prepared well in advance.
This week's slip-up, and indeed the downcast demeanour which Ahern has often displayed in the month since he was re-elected Taoiseach, may be due to tiredness.
After all, he has had what must have been a gruelling few months, politically and personally. He has fought and won a long and difficult election campaign. In the post-election phase he has designed and built a new Government.
He has also for many months now been the focus of detailed and at times intrusive media coverage of delicate personal financial issues.
Knowing that these matters are likely to be the focus of even more media coverage when he appears at the tribunal in a few weeks' time must also be draining.
It may also be that having won a third election, and knowing that he will not have to contest another, Ahern feels he can be less cautious than he has been previously.
This first month of his third term as Taoiseach has been marked by one striking feature - a Brendan Behan-like attitude to his begrudgers. He can appoint whom he chooses to any ministerial or semi-State post. He can say what he likes about Beverley Flynn and his critics can just lump it.
His recent re-election seems, to his mind at least, to have rendered him politically immune.