The Meeja, again

I screwed up. Hardly surprising, given the horrible conditions, and nobody will notice, but nonetheless. It's never a good feeling.

It's been raining for days, and I've been post-Christmas hibernating, gradually disappearing under the piles of seasonal detritus (books, DVDs, packaging: soft plastic, molded plastic, cardboard everywhere. Not to mention the food). Today's one and only task was to clear the rubbish out of the house and the car. The final related errand was a trip to Oxfam Home on Frances St.

The one way system in the Liberties was confounding, so I ditched the car halfway between my house and the shop, and walked to Francis St in the rain. Arrived, with 2 coats on, drenched, with a soggy box full of soggy tat. And the nice beardy man in the shop is being interviewed by a lady and a man with a very large camera. The lady sprang on me, delighted; the spongy bit of her microphone says 3. They're filming a fluff piece for tonight's news about charity shops. Oh shite. Do I mind if they film me arriving (again) with my box of tat? They have lots of shoppers, but no donors. Sigh. When will this be on? I don't want my Aunty seeing me on the telly giving away all my Christmas presents from the last 3 years. Ok.

I walk down the steps again, still dripping, with a box of junk that I've never owned. Hand it over. That's great, now can we interview you? You know, the irony is, I work for Trocaire. Ho ho ho and out with the mic.

I made a show of myself. I said daft things like "it's all for a good cause", and "we bought our wardrobe here." Here was the perfect opportunity to express, articulately, in the guise of an ordinary Irish person, the importance that international development has to me. Here was my chance to use the meeja as a worthwhile mouthpiece, to talk about the connection I feel with my counterparts in Africa, to explain how important I think it is for Irish people to continue to fund development aid, even in recessionary times. And what do I do? I open my mouth and say exactly what I would expect any eejit on the telly to say. Utterly dumbfounded, I blew my chance.

It will air at 5.30 on TV3 news tonight ("and finally...") Hopefully nobody will see me. Oh god. Hopefully nobody from work will see me.