Spirit of the Boom: Patio Heaters

Good evening, dear friends. Today I'm happy to announce a new regular feature here on the People of This Country: 'The Spirit of the Boom'. The SotB as we like to call it remembers a time not so long past but one that seems more distant than ever. I am of course referring to the Boomtimes. The Celtic Tiger. Ireland's Economic Miracle. The dream that became a nightmare.

While we here at the PotC rightly decry the horrendous ineptitude and cronyism that made our economy collapse like a poorly built two-up two-down in Lakeview Pine Manor Terrace, that does not stop us from reminiscing about that wonderful time when, to quote one notable commentator: 'We were all millionaires'. I will be presenting tonight's SotB. The column may be written in subsequent weeks by one of our fantastic staff writers, or perhaps by some special guests. I do hope that this feature affords us all some measure of respite from the daily grinding crushing ordeal that is living in Modern Eirinn.

The Spirit of the Boom: Patio Heaters

Tonight we cast our minds back to ages past. To that brief period around 2003 or so, when the People of this Country decided to heat the outdoors.

Yes, truly it was a golden age. A shout went up through the land. While we may not have Mediterranean weather, we could all have Al Fresco parties. The notorious Irish climate no longer intruded on the soirees that were surely our solemn birthright. Hail, rain or 'sneacta' you would be sitting pretty. A quick trip down to Woodies (to hell with it, B and Q, and hang the expense!) would net you a magnificent specimen, in shining silver or glorious green. Resembling a small, metallic, misshapen tree that didn't look anything like a tree, this wonderful machine would render even the most frigid decking a tropical paradise, where one's milieu could sit until the wee hours of the morning, sipping west coast cooler and discussing one's new Bulgarian 'house' (250,000 Euro, plus assorted bribery fees).

Perhaps the thought entered some peoples heads that someday, if we all turned on our heaters at once, and cranked up the power, that we would permanently increase Ireland's temperature, and our quest to become the California of Western Europe would be complete! Then just think of the possibilities! We could have our own version of the Hills! We could wander around in chinos and polo shirts! We could use words like 'Dude' and 'Awesome' and 'Totes'! With this in mind a good number of our more impressionable youth got ahead of themselves, and put the cart somewhat before the horse.

So what killed this Utopian dream? Well it is perhaps tempting to say 'The Recession' and leave it at that. the truth however is more complicated. The proverbial rot had metaphorically set in long before the first cries of 'Bailout' and 'NAMA'. The Patio Heater had the ill fortune to go up against a power far greater than itself. The awesome force of Middle Class Smugness.

The 2000's were the years we all went 'Green'. We cut our carbon footprint and began to 'care' about the earth. Global Warming was on everyone's lips. Now of course this didn't extend to cancelling our dozen or so international flights a year, or installing a functioning public transport system, or seriously investing in an alternative energy infrastructure, or changing our lifestyle habits one tiny little bit, or indeed anything that would make a substantial difference in halting the devastation of Climate Change. No, but god help us if we were to see an incandescent bulb dangling from our ceilings.

A middle aged woman would step out into her friend's garden, and suddenly a smirk would cross her features. 'Oh', she would say, 'you still use a Patio Heater? I suppose you don't care about our children's future.'

Shame. Shame upon you and your 2.5 kids and your Toyota Prius and your CFLs. The next day the patio heater was hidden deep in the recesses of your shed, or consigned forlornly to the skip, along with the fridge which you had decided to replace with an 'American style' version for reasons that never became apparent.

I for one, will mourn it's loss. This noble gas-powered giant kept many a smoker warm in it's all too brief time on this earth. You abandoned your friend because he wasn't cool anymore, and you should all be ashamed of yourselves. Good night, dear Patio Heater. you will be missed.