Like a myopic mongrel recognising the scent of his favourite lavatory, Michael McDowell panted blissfully down Ranelagh Avenue towards the fourth telegraph pole on the left, writes Miriam Lord.
God, but the Tánaiste looked pleased with himself. Wreathed in smiles, he saw the microphones and the cameras and the reporters, and couldn't have been happier.
This telegraph pole was kind to him during the 2002 election, when he climbed it one Saturday afternoon near the end of the campaign and attached his famous "Single Party Government? No Thanks" poster. Not soon after, the PDs returned to the Dáil with double the amount of seats.
The received wisdom has it that McDowell's publicity grabbing stunt was the turning point in that election, depriving Fianna Fáil of their overall majority. One grinning man and his billboard changed the course of Irish political history, apparently.
Sometimes, you might fall to wondering if the nation really is that impressionable. But who are we to argue with our betters, the people who claim to understand these things? Michael McDowell certainly believes his own publicity, and that is all that matters.
And so yesterday at lunchtime, when journalists got a text message saying the PD leader intended to resume pole position within the next 90 minutes, they abandoned their grub and hot-footed it to Ranelagh.
This would be history in the making. At least that's what one PD handler said, proof that they've lost their marbles.
Of course, the whole thing was ridiculous. Televison camera crews, photographers and over 20 journalists from the daily and Sunday newspapers gathered in a cul-de-sac near the Tánaiste's constituency office.
Please don't write in. I know. We're worse for taking the bait.
The pole was still there. Outside a very nice house. Two children peeked out the downstairs window at the commotion. Sensibly, their parents kept them indoors: there was a lot of ribald talk outside about the wisdom of those PDs getting themselves up the pole again.
John Gormley, chairman of the Greens and the Tánaiste's constituency rival, ambled down the narrow street.
He had been dining in the Dáil canteen, when a throng of belching journalists rushed past his table. Through their last mouthfuls of lunch, they told him Michael McDowell was planning a spectacular at the Ranelagh triangle. A poster would be involved. He followed them out.
Oblivious of the pandemonium about to happen, a delighted Michael, with deputy leader Liz O'Donnell and Senator Tom Morrissey flanking him, rounded the corner and made for the telegraph pole. The billboard of history was about to be unveiled. The lovely Liz would do the honours this time.
"At least I have trousers on today," twittered deputy O'Donnell. Quite. "Oh, thank God," wheezed a jaded political correspondent.
With the Tánaiste gallantly holding the ladder, Liz and her high heels clacked gingerly up the first few rungs. Then she pulled a string and her party's "Don't Throw It All Away" poster fell to the ground, discarded in favour of the new one beneath.
The PD supporters cheered in an effort to imbue the occasion with a bit of drama. Slack-jawed journalists, realising that dog-lover McDowell had sold them a pup, stared at the uninspiring message.
"Left Wing Government? No Thanks." That rules out any continuing partnership with Fianna Fáil, given that Bertie is a socialist.
Everyone gathered around the Minister for Justice, parked contentedly at the base of his favourite telegraph pole and preparing to relieve himself of his magnificent script.
Deputy Gormley lurked.
Michael launched into his speech. It wasn't long before he got to the Greens. John started to roar. "It's a lie. It's a lie. It's an absolute lie." The Tánaiste looked over. "Is that Michael Foot or John Gormley?" he asked. "It's John Gormley," came the strangulated reply.
His blood was up and he would stand for no more "nonsense" from Michael McDowell. "Calm down, John. Calm down," urged the Minister.
Talk about a red rag to a compassionately reared organic bull. The media parted generously to, push, er, allow John to the front. He launched an unmerciful verbal onslaught at Michael. There was no calming the Green Party chairman, who demanded that the Tánaiste retract inaccurate claims made in a PD pamphlet about the Greens' taxation policy. "Michael, I'm sick and tired of this. Smear, negativity. That's all you do." PD supporters began to heckle. "We're sick of you! Bye Bye." The photographers were fighting over the ladder.
"You're losing it!" said Michael, gripping his script. "No, you're losing it!" said John, brandishing his pamphlet.
The Tánaiste asked to be allowed finish his speech. John assented, but reserved his right to interrupt.
"Your party is behaving like headless chickens." "Relax John. Relax"
"I AM RELAXED!"
Liz O'Donnell was highly amused. "It's like street theatre," she murmured.
Michael tried to plough on. A photographer emerged from a nearby house with a kitchen chair and stood on it. McDowell: "You're out of the picture, John." Gormley: "No, We're in the picture, we are very much in the picture." Then he got carried away and declared the next government would comprise "the Green Party, the Labour Party and Fine Gael." It was like a good night out at the Abbey for Liz. "That's a scary thought, scary, scary, given your performance today, John." Deputy Gormley's phone rang. "They're just ringing to say 'don't make a fool of yourself John'," sniggered the Tánaiste.
"You're the guy that's made a fool of himself in the last two weeks. You've gone completely gaga."
At this point, Cllr Lucinda Creighton of Fine Gael - a third candidate - raced into Ranelagh Avenue with a group of supporters and another ladder. Michael's spectacular was in a shambles by now.
Lucinda made for the telegraph pole opposite and shot up the ladder with a poster of her own, featuring half of the Tánaiste's face. "Don't want single party government? Well, thanks to him, it's a reality." She was jubilantly breathless. The journalists deserted Michael. A man at the corner asked what all the fuss was about. We told him about Michael McDowell's lamp post."Huh. If I was a dog, I wouldn't piss on it." Just as well. The Minister got there before him.