THERE are very few occasions when I can say I'd love pictures to go with the sounds from my radio.
"What an extraordinary goal!", accompanied by the roars of a football crowd, can elicit a few regrets about the limitations of the medium, but offhand I can't think of any other common source of such frustration.
But if only I could have seen the look on President Robinson's face.
The occasion was an unusually early edition of Late Date with Maxi (RTE Radio 1, Saturday), with the indefatigable presenter coming to us live from the "Apre's Bash" at the Point Depot. Either Maxi was joined by the cast of Scrap Saturday, or - only minutes after the end of the Eurovision Song Contest - she managed to corner the most powerful people in the land.
I'm sure it was the latter, because no actor or scriptwriter could have captured the sheer, random awkwardness of the encounter between exuberant Maxi and immaculate Mary. Pummelling the President with repeated variations on the question "How proud are you tonight?", she managed to prompt a "joke" from Mrs Robinson about being the head of State most familiar with the Eurovision routine (ho, ho).
However, you obviously can only be presidential for so long when answering enthusiastic questions about a light entertainment TV show. Maxi carried on, commenting (desperately?) about the press of the crowd around them and the difficulty of finding anyone else with whom to speak. It took Mrs Robinson to throw in the towel; replying with a very final "Grand" to Maxi's last effort at a question. Maxi asked the studio to spin a disk.
But minutes later this brave fighter had lined up more opponents, including the leaders of Fine Gael, Fianna Fail and the PDs. John Bruton was all dull earnestness, weighing up the merits of the Eurovision entries, praising Ireland's song and lamenting that Bosnia hadn't got more points, "because I thought it was a very good song indeed".
Then it was "Howaya Maxi! You're lookin' great!" and the bould Bertie entered the fray. Having given all due respect to RTE's efforts, he treated the evening as the excuse for a party that it is, joking about the popularity of the sexy Icelandic entry in the countries where telephone voting had been used - "I'm a great believer in democracy," Ahern said. What with Mary Harney complaining light heartedly about the length of the contest, this surreal programme added up to a good night for the Opposition.
"This is a terrible night for the Conservative party." The words stirred into my consciousness some time in the wee hours of Friday morning. When I recognised the conceding voice as that of Michael Portillo, I was sure I must have been having a wonderful dream.
But no, the BBC boys assured me that Portillo had indeed lost his seat. There had to be a down side to all this: ahah, there was David Mellor, another loser, assuring football followers that we'd be hearing more of him.
Mellor's tantrum about the behaviour of James Goldsmith was the only real sport of the long night of Labour's triumph. With the same coverage to be heard on BBC Radio 4 and Radio 5 Live, there wasn't even variety to spice the hours.
Soon after 10 p.m. the commentators were already gilding the lily (the rose?): "James Callaghan once said that there is a complete political seachange once in every generation - but this is much more dramatic than that, isn't it?"
Rather than analysing what that change might consist of the lads seemed content to say the word "dramatic" more often than Maxi said "proud". Their response to specific results wasn't a lot more illuminating: "And we've just got word that Hove has gone to Labour" - and we heard a studio full of air sucked suddenly into lungs, exhaled again as "Cor", or "Wow", or words to that effect.
Vincent Hanna on Wednesday's Daily Record (RTE Radio 1, Monday to Friday) had already told us to bet on a huge Labour majority, pointing out that the Labour lead in opinion polls had been virtually unchanged for about four years. The "drama" consisted of Britons getting something like the government they've wanted since the days of Labour leader John Smith, whose absence from the discussions of late has been unseemly, hasn't it?
But then, B.P. Fallon can do an entire programme about John Lennon (B.P. Fallon's Icons, RTE Radio 1, Wednesday) without the name of Paul McCartney passing his lips. I can think of many reasons for doing this; perhaps the great B.P. might share his.
If, as musiclovers must pray, there is another season of Icons to follow the one he concluded with his beloved Lennon, perhaps B.P. will devote a show to McCartney. Nah... Stick by your principles, B.P.
Fallon told us during this show that he loves listening to Tricky, the Chemical Brothers etc - and I've no doubt he could host a fine contemporary music show - but his memories of Lennon and the language with which he shot them out told us all we need to know about B.P.'s sweet, hippie heart.