THE STAR of yesterday's Budget coverage was Gerry Donoghue of Cherry Or chard in Dublin. A father of nine children, he has been out of a job for 15 years.
This is about as long-term unemployed as you can get. Since the Budget was supposed to be largely about people like him, RTE sent a camera crew to his house.
It's not every day you see an unemployed man interviewed on TV. They are not considered good for the ratings. But Gerry Donoghue has potential. For one thing, he has a nice line in straight talking.
Asked what the Budget meant to him, he replied: "Absolutely nothing." What difference would it make to his finances? "None whatsoever."
Eithne Fitzgerald and Pat Rabbitte, back in the studio, disagreed. Pat Rabbitte pointed out that families as big as the Donoghues were hardly typical these days. But Gerry was still the best turn on the show.
The problem, as Gerry and his wife Teresa saw it, was that the Budget concessions would be swallowed up by ESB and rent increases, not to mention that 10p on fags. "I like an oul smoke," Gerry explained.
berry is taking a full-time FAS training course at present, but it only gives him £17 a week on top of his welfare payments. This barely covers cigarettes and lunch. If he didn't cycle he'd be on a real loser.
If a decent job came Gerry's way, he would take it, but the only offers he gets are in the exploitation-wage category. RTE might consider him as a TV presenter to help out the hard-pressed Ingrid Miley, who was doing the work of three people yesterday.
Elder TV statesman Brian Farrell had the straightforward job of keeping the politicians in line, but Ingrid was running a 10-ring circus. One minute she was talking to the ICTU, then it was over to the office of an accountancy firm, then we had the man from IBEC and then it was back to Brendan Keenan in the studio. Whew!
The politicians on the studio panel had little headphones stuck in their ears. Instead of giving their full attention to the studio discussion, they were cocking an ear to what was going on back at Leinster House - and probably wishing they were there to enjoy the craic.
This led to a misunderstanding between Pat Rabbitte and Mary O'Rourke. When asked toe respond to a comment from the Fianna Fail deputy leader, Pat excused himself as he had been listening to some "entertaining nonsense" from Charlie McCreevy in Leinster House.
Pat Rabbitte then chose to believe that Ms O'Rourke had welcomed the Social Welfare "package" in the Budget. When she rounded on him, he replied soothingly that she would welcome the new measures after she had studied them.
Mary O'Rourke complained that the Budget was "bitty". So was the programme. We had the makings of a royal political row between Pat and Mary, but they kept being interrupted by "updates" on the contents of Ruairi Quinn's speech.
For the most part, the programme went badly for the Government. Farmers, small businessmen, unemployed people and accountants formed an unholy alliance against the Rainbow.
Mary O'Rourke repeated the now-familiar Fianna Fail charge that the Democratic Left tail was wagging the Coalition dog. She said there had been "unbridled horse-trading" in Cabinet, conjuring up a vision of unbridled horses galloping through the corridors in Government Buildings. It wouldn't be the first strange thing to happen there.