It's a mostly disappointing week for anyone counting on blizzard conditions for distraction and amusement, not to mention nostalgia for those innocent times during the Beast from the East when, back in 2018, being stuck at home for four days seemed like an eternity.
But if the snow doesn't quite materialise in full winter-wonderland quantities, until later in the week anyway, the precipitation anticipation teaches us something, courtesy of Morning Ireland (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays). On Tuesday its presenter Rachael English tackles the question that has gripped the nation since, oh, Sunday: what do you call that stuff that's "not quite snow, not quite hail"?
The answer, according to the web meteorologist Alan O’Reilly, is “graupel”. O’Reilly explains the science behind these “frozen snowflakes” (insert joke about chilly millennials here) while voicing mild surprise that it’s a new word to many. “A lot of people didn’t seem to know,” he says, “I’ve been saying it for years, but I was maybe out on my own with that one.” “Well, you’re finally in vogue now,” replies English, sounding inadvertently dismissive.
'Any chance of a bit of graupel today?' Rachael English asks knowingly, practically putting ironic air quotes around the word
In fact, as the day progresses, the graupel trend does indeed, er, snowball. Ray D'Arcy often seems slightly behind the curve on zeitgeisty matters on his afternoon show (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), if only because Ryan Tubridy has usually beaten him to the juicy topics. But with Tubridy somehow having missed the memo on this occasion – he talks vaguely about "that little non-snow thing like a flurry" – D'Arcy seizes his moment. "Word of the day!" he declares triumphantly. The presenter replays O'Reilly's interview with English, feigning sounds of interest throughout. "He was a trailblazer when it comes to graupel," D'Arcy concludes, sounding properly dismissive. "I can tell you here and now: It's not going to take off. We're not going to use it."
Sure enough, the erstwhile mot du jour already seems passé by the time English introduces the weather forecast on the following day’s Morning Ireland. “Any chance of a bit of graupel today?” she asks knowingly, practically putting ironic air quotes around the word. D’Arcy is right, it seems: graupel’s moment in the sun lasts about as long as, well, a snowflake in the sun. Fashion is so fickle. As O’Reilly says during his interview: “Nothing is like the weather in terms of uncertainty.”
With everything that's happening, conversations on such ephemera may seem wilfully trivial. But they provide escapism from the numbing drudgery of interviews, analysis and speculation on the pandemic. And not just for listeners. On Tuesday, Sarah McInerney and Cormac Ó hEadhra, the presenters of Drivetime (RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays), are positively giddy as they discuss "emotional spending", a once-niche phenomenon now more relevant amid lockdown-driven online retail sprees.
The financial adviser Eoin McGee sees shopping on the internet as a much-needed “lift-me-up” that can nonetheless result in excessive spending. “What you’re describing sounds eerily familiar,” says McInerney, who describes the “collective gasp” in her home whenever the postman arrives with parcels. “Is there anything really wrong with it?” she asks, slightly plaintively.
The financial adviser Eoin McGee points to the perils of tipsy shopping, aka 'hic and click', as practised by some online consumers, 'typically women'. This assertion prompts splutters of mock outrage from Cormac Ó hEadhra
McGee explains that without “normal barriers” it’s too easy to splash cash on a whim. In particular, he points to the perils of tipsy shopping, aka “hic and click”, as practised by some online consumers, “typically women”. This assertion prompts splutters of mock outrage from Ó hEadhra: “I would like to apologise on behalf of all men.” But the outspoken presenter also admires McGee’s honesty. “You know what I like about you, Eoin? You’re not trying to make friends: you’re telling the unvarnished truth,” says a chuckling Ó hEadhra, possibly projecting his own outspoken persona on to his guest.
In truth, it’s a bit of light relief rather than anything more serious, particularly as the discussion trades in anecdotal evidence rather than hard data. But it’s also the liveliest item on the show, suggesting that the two presenters welcome the diversion.
Not that they’re slacking in other departments. On Wednesday Ó hEadhra has an illuminating encounter with the Fianna Fáil TD Willie O’Dea. The Limerick deputy cheerily admits to using colourfully insulting terms about Minister for Transport (and coalition partner) Eamon Ryan, over the latter’s now withdrawn opposition to a local road project: the Greens’ grand vision hasn’t a chance against parish-pump priorities.
Meanwhile, McInerney interviews Tánaiste Leo Varadkar with characteristic rigour. "What will be different in the new Living with Covid plan that isn't in the old plan?" she asks. "I can't tell you yet, because it's still in development," Varadkar replies, with discouraging honesty. When the Tánaiste outlines the obstacles that precluded the introduction of mandatory quarantine until now, the host's merciless assessment resonates: "So just leave it, because it's too difficult?"
Discussions like this underline why Drivetime currently has the zippiest news coverage on Irish radio. And for all that the presenters enjoy the odd slice of flippancy, it doesn’t always work. An item with the Independent TD Mick Barry and the tailor Louis Copeland, about whether wearing ties should be obligatory in politics, seems promising but ends up sounding staged and flat. You can never tell with fashion items.
Sean Moncrieff is the reigning monarch when it comes to turning offbeat material into absorbing radio: no mean feat considering he's been helming his show since 2004
When it comes to turning offbeat material into absorbing radio, Sean Moncrieff (Newstalk, weekdays) is the reigning monarch: no mean feat considering he's been helming his show since 2004. True, he also deals with more substantive issues, comfortable whether discussing the efficacy and ethics of puberty-blocking medication or hearing about homelessness outreach by the Muslim Sisters of Éire. But he still sounds happiest when dealing with quirkier subjects.
Monday's regular "stuff that changed the world" slot with Simon Tierney deals with the hearse, but despite the vehicle's serious purpose the segment is unexpectedly entertaining. Egged on by the host, Tierney recounts all kinds of fascinating nuggets about hearses, such as the increased efficiency they brought to the funeral business. It's a satisfyingly informative item, displaying Moncrieff's grasp of a good subject, no matter how morbid. With weather and pandemics so unpredictable, best to stick with the one certainty in life.
Moment of the Week: Pandemic party-pooper
Monday's edition of Today with Claire Byrne (RTÉ Radio 1) carries a typically vivid item from the reporter Brian O'Connell, who joins gardaí on "Covid patrol" in Cork city on a weekend night. There's much moving on of outdoor revelries, as well as dutiful Garda quotes: "We don't make the law, we enforce the law." But the most startling moment comes when the guards respond to a call complaining about a house party, made by one of the occupants. The man who phoned in the complaint explains that it's a regular occurrence in the shared house, despite his pleas for respect and restraint. "That can't have been an easy thing to do," O'Connell remarks. "The abuse you get," comes the resigned response. So much for everyone being in this together.
