Cowen’s Christmas wish... to be anywhere but here

“JINGLE bells, dole queue swells, pork industry blown away. Oh what fun it is to live in Brian Cowen’s Ireland today.”

The weather was as bleak as the economic outlook as carol singers shivered with song while the Ceann Comhairle did the honours and lit up the Leinster House Christmas tree.

John O’Donoghue told us this would be a traditional Christmas, which was a nice way of acknowledging our sudden national return to Dickensian misery

As the Taoiseach looked on, Mr O’Donoghue spoke of families huddled around the fire opening their presents — again, presumably Government sugar-coated spin for people struggling to keep warm as they open their P45s this yuletide.

Mr Cowen was putting a brave face on for the sake of the assembled pensioners gathered in the Oireachtas car park for the annual festive delight.

Brave Brian was determined not to come across as The Grump Who Stole Christmas and went through the motions of smiling and laughing with Enda Kenny, but the body language between the two men spoke loudly of unhappy parents-in-law chatting at a wedding they wished their children had not been foolish enough to partake in.

By the time Mr Cowen was coerced into singing White Christmas with the choir his face was a study in awkwardness.

The occasional vocal burst was interspersed with an uneasy lopsided smile as he appeared to wish just one thing for Christmas — to be anywhere but here.

Not so Enda, who exploded through the doors of Leinster House like a torpedo. The man clearly thinks he is finally going somewhere, though he was taking his Barack Obama fixation a bit too far as he emerged into the courtyard giving what can only be described as a black power salute with his right hand — indeed the sheer force of his gesture has rarely been seen since the heyday of Winnie Mandela.

Labour leader Eamon Gilmore was late as he moved in to stand with the other two leaders. He entered from the left, or from the right depending on which way you were facing, which served as a fitting visual metaphor for the kind of ideological confusion that has done so much to turn voters off his party at the past three elections.

The Ceann Comhairle seemed temporarily confused by the gadgetry in front of him as the tree initially failed to sparkle into life — for one dreadful moment it felt like the unlucky touch of this Government had even contaminated Christmas.

As one minister sagely observed off the record: “About the only thing that hasn’t hit this country this year is a UFO...yet.”

But Mr O’Donoghue pulled it out of the bag, and with the Government languishing in the polls he even managed a nod to the hitherto ignored pagan vote by wishing everyone a good “winter solstice” as the tree lit up with the splendour of Mary Harney emerging from a $400-a-pop Florida beauty parlour.

The pensioners looked on in awe at the twinkling lights — and with the miserly €2 increase they were given in fuel allowance in the budget, who could blame them — this was probably the closest they would get to heat this winter.

All together now: “Jingle bells, Lisbon’s hell, FÁS still smells, another emergency on the way. Oh what fun it is to live in Brian Cowen’s Ireland today...”