Dial Éireann controversy prompts an innocent Ring tone

DÁIL SKETCH:DÁIL M for Murder.

The deepening mystery of Deputy Michael Healy-Rae and his fast-fingered phone friend had everyone agog in Dial Éireann.

The mind-boggling revelation that a person, or persons, unknown registered 3,636 telephone votes from an office in Leinster House for the then mayor of Kerry, who was taking part in a TV reality show, was the talk of Kildare Street.

Thanks in part to this crucial support from the corridors of power, Healy-Rae the Younger trounced the competition in Celebrities Go Wild. His father Jackie, a well known TD for Kerry South at the time, must have been hugely proud of his boy, who went on to inherit the Healy-Rae seat in the last election, thus fulfilling the excellent promise he showed on national television in 2007.

But who was the mystery caller feverously tapping the redial button at the taxpayers’ expense? The finger of suspicion pointed immediately to the Minister of State for Transport, Tourism and Sport. But it has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“I’m Ring by name, but not by nature” he declared yesterday.

In fairness, to make the frame he would have to be called Michael RingRingRingRing . . .

Some wondered if the mischievous Luke Flanagan was behind the Healy-Rae bandwagon, but he wasn’t a TD back then. So no, it’s a case of Ming the wrong number there.

Back to the drawing board.

Like the politicians, callers to Joe Duffy’s radio show were equally fascinated by this telephonic whodunit and set RTÉ’s phone-lines burning in a dialling frenzy to rival Healy-Rae’s admirer.

From Landline to Liveline via minor celebrities living rough in Connemara for charity: this was a cracking yarn for a slow Tuesday.

The man at the centre of the controversy, which gained pace throughout the day, was nonplussed by the story.

Deputy Michael Healy-Rae, known affectionately as “Dolly” because he’s a carbon copy of his colourful cap-wearing father, has no idea who made thousands of free phone calls that helped him win the show. (Dolly the sheep, younger readers will be fascinated to learn, made global news as the world’s first cloned mammal. She’s dead now, poor lamb.)

His father Jackie, now in splendid retirement in Kilgarvan, was also reportedly at a loss to know who in the wide earthly world would have run up a bill of €2,639 by voting for his lad from a Dáil telephone in Leinster House.

All the “celebrities” taking part in Celebrities Go Wild were paired with a commercial sponsor. Michael Healy-Rae was supported by Fyffes, purveyors of bananas to the Irish public.

Such was the excitement generated by the mystery of Dolly’s Dialler, it was difficult to concentrate on the business in hand in the Dáil.

The Fianna Fáil leader was disappointed by the very low turn-out in the chamber by Labour deputies. He wondered where they had all gone: was there a row already with their Coalition partners? They were probably out shopping, as per the instructions of the Minister for Finance.

The Fine Gael benches looked disappointingly drab, although, in an example of leading from the front, Enda appeared to be wearing a new shirt. Bernard Durkan sported an off-white jacket, but we don’t know if it was new.

“It’s the man from Del Monte!” chortled the Opposition when he stood up to speak.

There was no sign of Deputy Mary Mitchell-O’Connor, who we suggest would be an excellent person to instruct her Government colleagues in the delights of shopping. She would make a superb minister for shopping.

She could spread the gospel of You Can Never Have Enough Shoes and single heeledly kick-start our flagging consumer economy.

Michael Noonan is making no effort at all. He only seems to have the one tie.

As indeed, Michael Healy-Rae only seems to have the one cap. He was scratching his head under it, trying to figure out how all those votes poured in from Leinster House for him.

The Ceann Comhairle issued a statement on Dollygate in the evening, criticising “the use of telephone facilities in Leinster House to make calls to a commercial voting line.”

The Labour leader, Eamon Gilmore, unburdened himself of the view that such activity was unacceptable.

Last night, some deputies were unkindly speculating that the mysterious affair of Dolly’s Diallers was some sort of dry run in advance of a tilt at the presidency by Jackie Healy-Rae. Back in 2007, was there talk of electing our next President by phone poll? No, there wasn’t. And anyway, Jackie has said he isn’t interested in running, despite being asked by supporters to put his name forward.

A tele-vote for the Áras? Now there’s an idea to rival Michael Noonan’s shop til you drop strategy.

You could vote as often as you wished, for a small fee each time. Think of all the money the State could earn. They could test this voting method for November’s presidential decider, and if it proves successful it could then be rolled out for the general election. The national debt would be wiped out in no time.