1.4K Again, the shrug. And the chuckles.
hey’re a close-knit clan, that Harris family, and no mistake.
Shortly after getting Simon’s answers above, I met Adam, his brother, down at the train station, and no matter what question about our local government minister I shouted at him over across the platforms, he brushed every single one off with a shrug and a chuckle.
“I don’t really know anything about Simon,” I yelled. “You’ll have to give me something. A little insider information…”
“Well…” smiled Adam, his shoulders already bobbing along to the rising chuckles.
“Just a simple yes or no will do,” I pleaded.
Again, the shrug. And the chuckles.
“Does Simon have any weird hobbies…? Shooting ladybirds out of straws? Playing Daniel O’Donnell records backwards looking for spicy sandwich recipes? Anonymously sending Danny Healy-Rae angry text messages from a polar bear on a shrinking ice cap…?”
Once again, nothing but chuckles. Time to change gears.
“He’s bi, isn’t he…? You can tell me.”
That one really brought on the giggles. It was clear to me that this particular line of inquiry was going to get me nowhere. Dang it.
It’s got to be a tough gig, being Simon Harris. Sure, there’s that close-knit family and the mighty fine fiance, but what of that 9-to-9 job of his? One the one hand, hooray for being in government so young, for being tipped as a future Taoiseach, and for getting rabid slaps on the back from such institutional figures as Gay Byrne, but on the other – like pretty much every politician in power – suffering those daily slings and arrows, and protests, and trolls, and the black-hole vitriol. And that’s going to happen no matter which door you choose, whichever way you turn.
Unless, of course, you’re the one who abandons St James’ as the site for the new National Children’s Hospital and places it at Connolly instead. Then Harris will be carried shoulder-high through the rest of his political career. Until the next wrong turn.
And when you’re not busy kissing hands and shaking babies all day long, keeping the local constituents happy, you’re having to tow the party line on budget-balancing decisions that could leave some of those very same wide-eyed constituents out of pocket, and possibly on the streets. Or, worse, with a death in the family.
So, you know, we’re guessing it ain’t an entirely easy life…
And from a Greystones perspective, we should be proud that one of our own has gone so far in office. Whether you believe he’s part of the Judean People’s Front or The People’s Front Of Judea, it’s ultimately up to Simon Harris to decide on what kind of political legacy he’s going to achieve. No matter what team he’s playing for.
On a more important level, there’s every chance that the man – and he is a man now, having just turned 30 – wants the same things we all want in life. Good health, good friends, a warm bed and being able to call Greystones home.
Oh, and clearly, Simon wants to rule the world too. From his underground lair. Beneath The Big Sugar Loaf. The mad fecker.
You can read Adam Harris’ My Greystones entry here.