Will Budget 2015 help put an end to homelessness?

It's somewhat timely that October 10 happens to be World Homelessness Day, less than a week before the Minister for Finance, Michael Noonan, gets to his feet in the Dáil to unveil Budget 2015.

While we have been cautioned against having unrealistic expectations, all the indications are that there will be some respite for hard-pressed middle income earners. But despite all the positive signs that the economy is finally starting to lift, with less unemployment and rising house prices, a walk through the city on a weekend night tells a different story.

•An all-too-familiar sight on our streets. STOCK PHOTO

A colleague of mine was almost reduced to tears during a recent night out on the town. She was shocked, not only by the numbers of people sleeping rough or begging in the vicinity of Grafton Street, but by the age profile of Ireland's 21st century homeless community. She recalled a time when a homeless person generally fitted the stereotype of down and out wino. Now they look like any of us. They are young, middle-aged or getting on in years. They are a mix of Irish and non-nationals, united by poverty and social deprivation.

No person should have to sleep on the streets, in a hostel or in a car in modern-day Ireland. It's a sad fact that a large proportion of homeless people have drug dependency or other addiction issues. Others may be escaping from a difficult family situation or traumatic event in their lives. Some are homeless through losing their job or business. The rise in rents in the capital has exacerbated the  problem. Rent supplements - if they're even accepted - simply aren't high enough to meet the extortionate rates sought by private landlords. They either need to rise to reflect market values or we need new rent control measures introduced.

If you've a few moments to spare, you should go online and read the Simon Community's 'Stand & Deliver' letter (www.simonstandanddeliver.ie). This is addressed to Government ministers, urging them to fulfil their promise to end long-term homelessness and rough sleeping by 2016. It warns that Ireland is in the middle of "a catastrophic" housing and homelessness crisis.

"If you don't move quickly and wisely - rather than being solved - long-term homelessness will become an epidemic," a section of the letter reads. "This will mean more people facing a brutal winter on our streets. More families sleeping in their cars. Serious illness, depression and death. It will mean more 'working' homeless. More pressure on overrun shelters. More people on the housing lists."

The Simon Community says the Government's emerging ideas on solving the crisis are welcome - but are far too limited, short-sighted and moving far too slowly.

"This is devastating for vulnerable families and is also economically foolish," the letter continues. "Ireland can't afford the overwhelming costs of increased homelessness and lack of housing."

The charity has presented politicians with three 'common sense' solutions:
•Increase housing - and the right kinds of housing;
•Provide adequate support services;
•Prevent homelessness before it happens.

Simon are well on their way to achieving their target of 10,000 signatures in time for World Homelessness Day next week. It's an initiative most worthy of our support. Let's just hope our elected representatives are listening.

Attitudes to drug addiction need to be challenged

If there's one thing that unites Northside and Southside communities across Dublin, it is the scourge of drug addiction.

For every Darndale - as featured in TV3's controversial new series - there is an estate with mirror image problems in Tallaght, Clondalkin or Ballyfermot. Even supposedly affluent areas like Dun Laoghaire have residents battling heroin addiction. Tenants living in inner city flat complexes on both sides of the Liffey have seen more than their fair share of drug-related funerals.

•Fix: the reality is that nobody wants to live like this by choice. PIC POSED

Talk to any of Dublin's homeless and you'll most likely find addiction at the heart of their situation. RTÉ's recent series on women behind bars told a similar story.

TV3's 'Darndale: The Edge of Town' documentary has been a major talking point online and on radio shows. While gritty and uncompromising, it has been praised as an honest portrayal of the social problems of the area. Its critics argue that it has done the community a disservice by relying too heavily on stereotypes - the drug addicts; the single parents; the urban cowboys on horseback; the bored teenagers riding around the park on scrambler bikes.

Within minutes of the first episode going on air, it was trending on Twitter. The trolls got to work immediately, plumbing new depths of ignorance and snobbery. Every harrowing story depicted in the documentary was met with a mixture of mock outrage and pure contempt for the suffering of the contributors. The emotional detachment exhibited by some people was staggering, tweeting as if they were referring to fictional characters from Roddy Doyle's Barrytown instead of real life human beings.

That's the problem with social media - it can desensitise and dehumanise individuals who, under normal circumstances, would not express such hateful sentiments. And while there was a degree of support for the Darndale community, the overall impression on Twitter was that there was little sympathy for those struggling with drug addiction. Likewise, some of the commentary about single mothers living on social welfare was highly derogatory.

There were times when the programme strayed into sensationalist, tabloid television territory. But for all its flaws, TV3's series deserves credit for highlighting the sense of hopelessness felt by heroin addicts and their abandonment by successive governments.

We got an insight into life on methadone, the heroin substitute that allows chronic users to swap one addiction for another; a sticking plaster solution designed to stop addicts from committing crimes to feed their habit. In reality, methadone only benefits polite society. People with drug problems can languish on a maintenance programme for years due to a shortage of detox beds. Some will die before ever getting the opportunity to be drug-free.

Ask any heroin addict and they will all tell you the same thing: they want to be off drugs; they want to stop causing their loved ones pain and hardship; they want a chance to start again and make a positive contribution to society. But most of them can't even begin to think about quitting because the power of their addiction is all-consuming; it is too big a part of them.

Those of us lucky enough not to struggle with drug addiction can't understand it. We feel afraid when we see heroin users, sometimes with good reason. Not all addicts come from local authority estates or dilapidated flats. Some have middle-class backgrounds but made a catastrophic error of judgement by trying heroin, perhaps out of boredom or due to peer pressure. Now they find themselves on the fringes of society, labelled as junkie lowlife by a judgemental, uncaring community.

Rather than demonise all drug users, perhaps it's time we attempted to understand the many complex issues surrounding heroin addiction. Those who are trying to quit need to be given as much support as possible. Providing addicts with easier access to detox programmes is the way forward but it requires State investment and political will.

And while we should all rightly be intolerant of drugs, uninformed views about addiction only serve to make a bad situation worse.

Recovery is about having money in our pockets

Labour and Fine Gael will be hoping that the electorate has a poor memory if this Government manages to last its full term.

Under new leader Joan Burton, Labour is optimistic that it can slowly but surely recover from the mauling its candidates suffered in May's local elections. And while Burton so far appears to have reversed the decline, it remains to be seen if her party will be forgiven for its perceived sins by the time they stand before the people in 2016.

•Broke: will the Budget put more money into our pockets? PIC POSED

Blaming Fianna Fail for every unpalatable decision made since this Government came to power in 2011 is really starting to wear thin at this stage. We are told that the good ship Ireland has been stabilised and the omens are good for economic recovery. Unemployment is falling and property prices are starting to climb again. This is all solid evidence, we are led to believe, that the worst is over and the good times are only around the corner.

However, as we have found to our cost, being able to borrow easy money for overpriced homes should not be seen as a barometer of wealth. During the boom times there were people openly bragging about their portfolios of Bulgarian properties. Today they probably don't have the price of the air fare to Bourgas or Sofia.

Real wealth is about how much money is left at the end of each month when the mortgage, household bills, food and the expense of running a car are taken into account. For most families - even those considered to be 'middle-class' - September bleeds them dry with all the back-to-school costs. And just when they are starting to recover from this, Christmas will be upon them. I imagine it's going to be another bumper season for the moneylenders.

While it's impossible to predict what measures Finance Minister Michael Noonan will introduce in next month's Budget to make us feel wealthier, any gains are likely to be negated when water bills start coming through our letterboxes in January 2015. And let's not forget the annual Local Property Tax that will be hoovered out of our bank accounts just a couple of months after that.

Thanks to the punitive effects of the Universal Social Charge, water bills and property tax, it will become increasingly difficult to save money for that rainy day (or any other day for that matter). An unexpected visit to a GP can further throw a household budget into chaos. As for holidays - sure isn't Dollier as good as anywhere when the weather is good?

Fine Gael and Labour may well be banking on economic recovery by 2016 to avoid an electoral punishment beating at the polls. But unless they start giving back something tangible, furious taxpayers will be waiting in the wings to exact their revenge. The upcoming Budget needs to be the start of a process of putting more money into our pockets. Otherwise the notion of Mary Lou McDonald picking out new curtains for the Tánaiste's office might not be as fanciful as it once seemed.

There is hope yet for 'real' music in Ireland

Music is a divisive topic in our house. Any attempt by me to play anything that predates 2013 is met with howls of disapproval from the kids, followed by a physical struggle to wrest control of the iPod.

Things get even more heated in the car. As soon as the youngsters see the words Radio Nova on the stereo display, a chant of 'Turn on Spin' rings repeatedly in my ears until I can take no more and finally relent. You don't want to know what happens if I even suggest switching over to Newstalk or RTÉ Radio 1.

You see, I grew up in an era of 'real' music in the 1970s. This meant a daily diet of Led Zeppelin, Bowie, Supertramp, The Police, Talking Heads, Neil Young - the list goes on. The growing popularity of Radio Nova proves we are far from a dying breed, although we are pushing on a bit.

• Imelda May is fronting her own music show on RTÉ

When I was a teenager in the '80s, there was a thriving gigs scene as a whole new generation of musicians were spurred on by the global success of The Boomtown Rats, Thin Lizzy and U2. You had The Blades, Auto Da Fé, Cactus World News, The Fountainhead, In Tua Nua, A House, Something Happens, Aslan, Hothouse Flowers, Cry Before Dawn, Light a Big Fire, The Stunning . . .

Fledgling bands found their voices in venues such as The Underground, Slattery's and The Baggot Inn. You could walk down Grafton Street and hear a baby-faced Glen Hansard belt out his version of Van Morrison's 'Sweet Thing'. It was impossible to go into town without recognising at least one well-known face from the scene. Back then, the city was simply alive with music; it pulsated from its heart and spread through its veins out to the spare bedrooms and garages of the suburbs.

I remember in 1987 when The Waterboys played a free gig on a Greenpeace ship docked at Sir John Rogerson's Quay, close to the iconic Windmill Lane studios. And right enough, there was Bono and Adam Clayton standing behind us in the crowd. I pulled out my last one pound note and they both graciously signed it for me. I soon realised that this had been my DART fare and so began the eight-mile walk home. While I vowed to cherish that note in the expectation that it would someday be worth a fortune, it now remains lost in one of my old Leaving Cert school books.

For me personally, the music scene took a major nosedive in the 1990s and was tarnished by the rise of the boy bands, where being a singing, dancing clotheshorse was seemingly all that was required to make the big time. Would this generation grow up thinking that 'Father and Son' was the only version of the song, having never had an opportunity to hear it in its original glory on Cat Stevens' 'Tea For the Tillerman' album? The answer, sadly, was probably yes.

Even more worrying was the line dancing phenomenon and inexplicable rise of country and western music, exemplified by Garth Brooks (sorry to bring that name up again!). I realise that taste is a subjective thing and I'm something of a music snob but I could never get my head around the unstoppable rise in the popularity of this genre. It's my loss, as I'm often told.

Things have gone from bad to worse in this century. Success is now determined by 'The X-Factor' and other reality TV talent shows, turning half-decent karaoke singers and novelty acts into pop superstars. Ask yourself: could Jedward have existed in any other decade than this? While they're likable, energetic lads and have a certain comedic quality, do they deserve more success than a group of talented musicians who write, perform and produce their own songs?

But I remain hopeful of a 'real' music renaissance. The popularity of The Electric Picnic proves there is a still an appetite for retro as well as emerging acts like Hozier. And RTÉ's new Jools Holland-style show, presented by Imelda May, bodes well for the future. While the opening programme of the season did depend on old reliables such as Mary Black and Donal Lunny, it also featured a blistering performance by The Riptide Movement. I first heard them a couple of years ago when they brought Grafton Street to a standstill while busking. It goes to show that there are still bands out there willing to work their way up the music business through hard graft and talent.

Just like they did in the '80s.