IT’S not all pizza parties and foreign jollies for the gang at Merchants Quay. No sir! Sometimes, when they aren’t arguing over why our first citizen doesn’t need permission to jet off to Austin, Texas, they even get a bit of work done. Back in July, at councillors’ first meeting with Mayor John Moran — a man considered “the most self-confident Limerick luminary since Richard Harris” — things were far from pleasant or jovial.
In contrast, the full September meeting of the local authority proved far more Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone than A Man Called Horse . Sure, there were moments when Council members got all Bull McCabe. They can be a bit precious about their beloved chamber and have a tendency to come over all “it’s my field” .
But what they seem to forget, is that there’s a new king in Camelot, and our new ruler made it very clear after the car-wreck that was the draft mayoral plan meeting, they can all go frolic up in the tower for all he cares. Councillors, like small dogs or children, need to be made feel very special, it’s a tough old station, really. Still, they clearly arrived out to County Hall in Dooradoyle last week wearing their big boy pants.
There was toothy grins aplenty and tension in the room, but nothing a bite to eat couldn’t fix. Politicians, as you know, love their grub and are well partial to a creamy scone. Not a patch, however, on the lads out in Rathkeale, who turn their monthly meeting into an all-day bonan.
