Is Frank McNamara stone mad? When the man hitherto known for playing the piano on the Late Late Show announced he would be running in Dublin South Central for the Progressive Democrats, there was every reason to suspect he had lost his marbles, writes Miriam Lord.
No political experience. Not living in the constituency. Leaving behind a lucrative career that takes him around the world with some of the top names in showbiz.
Remarkable hair, even for Leinster House, where the standard of male coiffure on display is already on the unusual side of avant garde.
He signed up for a party that is fighting for its very existence in this election, opting for a battleground that has never returned a PD representative to the Dáil.
Frank McNamara was savaged over the airwaves when he announced his intention to run. This poor, innocent abroad - has to be mad.
Frank held a photocall yesterday with Mary Harney, the PD's former leader who got him into this situation in the first place. Apparently the musician and his wife were having dinner with Mary when he went off on a rant about not understanding why voters re-elect politicians who have been publicly disgraced.
The former tánaiste put it up to him. "Why don't you run, so?"
Which is why a sizeable media contingent came to be outside Dublin's Heuston station, eager to get a closer look at the musician who believes he can pull off a shock result on his first general election outing.
Daft publicity stunts have marked the opening weeks of this campaign, and the flamboyant Frank was more than willing to make his contribution to the cause. He has paid a small fortune to brand a Luas tram, and the freshly dickied-out carriages were rolled out for inspection.
McNamara's bandwagon glided to a stop and the candidate, Harney and members of the press climbed aboard.
Interviewing commenced under the sulphurous gaze of commuters on the platform. However, in fairness to Frank, he was not taking precious rolling stock out of service.
Having purchased what is called a "tram domination package", he was entitled to a photo-opportunity to showcase the result. This is often done by companies which have rebranded an entire unit, and it happens at off-peak hours and without disruption to the schedule.
But if you're waiting to catch a tram, and there's one parked in front of you and it's full of grinning politicians and handlers, you'd be feeling a bit sour too.
Frank is using his showbiz background to sell his message. Commuters swinging from the rails on the red line to Tallaght will read that he's "a real performer". That he is "orchestrating a better future".
Minister for Health Mary Harney took her seat, fresh from addressing the nurses' conference. "I didn't get a standing ovation," she said.
Frank chose to run in Dublin South Central because his wife, RTÉ presenter turned barrister Teresa Lowe, is from the constituency and her family still lives there.
There's no sign of the tram moving. "Could the two of you get into the driver's cabin and do something?" asks a desperate photographer.
An angry woman starts banging on the windows and shouting insults at the Minister.
Eventually the journey begins. Unfortunately, in the wrong direction. Are you mad, Frank?
The candidate considers the question, and decides he isn't.
He is running because he feels new people should go into politics and bring their particular skills to the table.
Back in the constituency, Frank says a taxi driver saw him on the canvass, and shouted: "If you played the fiddle you could have joined Fianna Fáil."
Around Bluebell, the recognition factor is huge. With the retirement of Fine Gael stalwart Gay Mitchell, the musician is hoping he will pick up some of his vote.
"I'm a Gay Mitchell woman," he's told in the local retail park. "So I'm in between at the moment. You're definitely in with a chance."
He knocks on a door and a careworn looking woman tells him her litany of woes. Frank, who has been working recently with singing star LeeAnn Rimes and the Boston Pops, seems shocked by what he hears.
"The more of these stories I hear, the angrier I feel," says the political novice.
"I'm painting bollards tomorrow in Drimnagh."
Bollards, Frank? Surely a joke there.
And no. He's not mad. Turns out to be a very interesting man. It'll be fascinating to see how he fares.