Colleagues have circled wagons amid sorry tale of Gerry Ryan's death – but why hide ugly truth from the masses? writes SARAH CAREY
HOW TYPICALLY Irish was the attitude expressed by Ryan Tubridy on his show on Monday that Gerry Ryan should be let “rest in peace”, and that he “would not abandon his friend”.
What Tubridy meant was that we shouldn’t talk about Ryan’s cocaine habit and that for him to do so would be disloyal. The protective instinct was notable by the awkward silence throughout RTÉ last week and in stark contrast to the days of tribute broadcasting that followed Ryan’s death.
It’s a misguided position, but common in cases where one has just buried a “larger than life” friend who was the “life and soul of the party” or “lived life to the full”. These are the usual euphemisms for people who drank a lot and then died as a direct consequence of their behaviour – usually at the wheel of a car – and leaving a trail of misery behind them.
In Ryan’s case he’s left debts, five children, a wife with no apparent income and a broken-hearted girlfriend. What a mess. He’s not the first and he won’t be the last, but for God’s sake, don’t talk about the sheer irresponsibility of it all. Sure then you might start to figure out what’s wrong with a society that continually produces such needless pain.
The RTÉ code says that debate on our dysfunctional relationship with drugs, legal or otherwise, socially acceptable or not, must be reserved for generalised hand-wringing, middle-class teenagers or the criminal classes. If it creeps into the “celebrity” class, discussion is considered downright rude.
I know it must be hard for his colleagues, but they don't get to decide which truth is acceptable broadcasting. Analysis was left to the likes of the Daily Star's Michael O'Toole who did a great interview with Newstalk's Chris Donoghue. But sure the Staris only a tabloid so we can look the other way if it breaks the rules.
When Katy French died her family were also quick to shut down any discussion on her drug use. The same week French died, two young men, John Grey and Kevin Doyle from Waterford, also died from cocaine use. Rather than hiding behind platitudes, the Doyle family issued a statement acknowledging the cause of death and begging others to take heed. They said: “We would earnestly ask all those, both young and old, who may be tempted to dabble in potentially lethal substances to simply say no. No amount of so-called fun is worth the loss of life that so often befalls young people in Ireland today.”
That’s an honourable message worth giving at times like this.
People in the public eye set the standard by which the rest of us judge ourselves and others. I’m sure some broadcasters feel their socialising is blown out of proportion, but Ryan cultivated an image of a whiskey drinker who loved his big meals in well-known restaurants. It’s telling that his most successful television chat show featured a restaurant-style set that included champagne on the table and whiskey underneath it.
Just as skinny models don’t explicitly ask all women to feel bad for being normal, neither does this set-up or gushing reports of celebrity partying insist the rest of us should keep up. But the pressure is on and the message is clear: “Have fun! Lots! Even if you’re too tired and don’t feel like it! We had SUCH a laugh last night!”
Which is fine if you really did have a laugh instead of being so bored you had to get drunk or snort a line of coke to keep going.
It’s such a shame because I used to listen to Ryan’s radio show, in particular his regular hour with Fiona Looney. The warm-hearted truths they shared were hilarious, comforting and showed it is possible to have conversations that mean something without drink or drugs.
Melanie Verwoerd said Ryan was happiest having a quiet night in with her. I believe her. But you get the feeling that almost had to be a secret shared between them. Why?
I also believe he was trying to live a new kind of life with Verwoerd but obviously found it very hard to leave the old one behind. You don’t realise how oppressive the pressure is to be drunk, or nearly drunk, or high, or fabulous and full of energy until the wee hours until you decide you can’t do it anymore.
I can’t bear the thought of waking up hungover and unable to function. It’s a really alienating experience, especially at Christmas, trying to socialise when so many people remain determined to get drunk or high as quickly as possible. I’m constantly bewildered by the number of people that brag about how bad they’re feeling today and how bad they intend to feel tomorrow after they’ve gotten completely pissed tonight.
Why is it still socially unacceptable to say you don’t want to live like that? If Gerry Ryan really was enjoying himself he wouldn’t have needed the coke or the whiskey to keep going. If the pressure to be the person other people thought he was, or the person he thought he should be was so great that he needed the props, imagine how hard it is for anyone else who wants to give it up? That’s a conversation worth having.
And according to RTÉ, one we’re not going to get.