Many moons ago, my parents’ house was renovated by the County Council. As with all public authority works, it was put out to tender. The builder awarded the contract had worked as an accountant in the Council for many years. Whether he knew the ins and outs of the system, or simply knew people, is irrelevant - what he didn’t know was building.

Doors would be hung that wouldn’t close. They’d be rehung. The wind would whistle through the gaps. They’d be rehung. The Council’s clerk of works would come to inspect them and find substandard hinges. They’d be replaced.

Paint would have to be stripped off, a sealer applied and then repainted. Cracks would appear in the walls and be hastily blocked with fillers. They’d appear again, be refilled and reappear until eventually they didn’t show. And so on until finally everything were as per the specification laid down - or near enough - having been patched up so often, nothing could never be perfect without demolishing and starting from scratch.

He became known, even to Council engineers, as Frankie-four-times.

The Council continued to give him contracts even when he built a wheelchair ramp at their own offices - packed with dusty rubble instead of the hardcore requested, it collapsed within weeks. He redone it and moved on to his next job.

Next up, my generation - I’ve had builders in for months now^Δ. Like all good boys and girls I listened to my parents - didn’t take lifts with strangers; carried a clean hankie; polished the heels of my shoes; didn’t make faces in case the wind left me like that; said please and thank you and didn’t hire Frankie-four-times. He’s probably too busy with local authority work anyway.

The Hymac driver, Ritchie-right hired to dig the foundations, was more expensive than most. But no one had to lift a shovel to tidy the edges when he’d done. The sub-floor was laid and the service lines marked out meticulously with yellow paint. That took time, but the plumbers came the next day and laid the pipes in hours, not days.

The bricklayer too was a little expensive. But he left the gaps the plumbers and electricians would need in exactly the right places and the plasterers worked fast because the walls were plumb and square. A child could have put in the doors and windows thanks to the bricklayer’s skill - the installers didn’t have to take out a chisel.

Floor plans were drawn up in advance and the cabinetmaker didn’t have to cut a skirting board or have a power point moved to put in the fitted presses - the carpenters and electricians had everything laid out for him. The latter ran co-axial, phone and ethernet cable throughout despite my protestations that I don’t watch TV, use a mobile and have a wireless network - you might change your mind in the future and it’s cheaper to do it now. If that happens, it will all be there ready for you, the builder told me.

The tilers found everything level and a dream to work on. The painters had little filling to do, thanks to the work of the plasterers, carpenters and tilers.

Every evening, all rubble was gathered up and placed in a skip. Tools were cleaned and machines refuelled. Floors were swept. Wet work clothes were hung in a room with low heat. The following morning they’d arrive at 8:00 and be working at 8:01.

I have to admit there were occasions I was frustrated with the time it was taking and how much things were costing. Often I tried persuade the builder that something would do, it was fine, there was no need to be that particular, only to be met with a lecture about getting things right the first time. His belief was, if you start right, you’ll finish right. And he was right. I see that now. I should have seen it before - I knew that in 25 years as a builder, he has not once been called back to a single job. 25 years of happy clients. In 25 years he has never had to advertise or tout for work.

Such a contrast to the State-run work done for my parents. But then, that’s the way of things.

Years ago, the State built two trams lines into the capital. They didn’t meet! Now they are to be connected and will cost billions. A businessman offered to foot the bill to extend one line to Citywest and his offer was refused. Now the line is being extended and will cost billions. Why not spend an extra couple of billion now and extend it even further and build a park-and-ride facility 10 times the size that’s needed? Why not at least purchase the strip of land now that would be needed for this? Like the co-axial cable in my house it will be there if we change our minds.

Most civil engineering firms tendering for the M50 design contract proposed a spaghetti junction of flyovers and underpasses for the Red Cow exit, the busiest on the route, but no, a bridge with a roundabout, and later, with traffic lights, was built. The flyovers and underpasses are now under construction and costing billions. Why not build flyovers and underpasses on all roads now being built - just in case we need them in the future?

It’s not just in construction this patching up goes on. Our health service is a shambles costing billions and achieving little. Recently some hospitals stopped performing elective surgery for a period of months to cut costs. Surely bearing the cost of a patient undergoing a small operation and a short stay in hospital now is far less than that which will be incurred later should their condition worsen and they need to avail of A&E and/or a major operation and/or an extended stay.

Our road users are a joke, though not a very funny one. Hundreds die each year. Minor collisions happen every minute of every day, but we don’t know just how many or what the cost is. The State launches anti drink driving campaigns. The State brings in a penalty points system. The State adds more offences to the points list every year. The Gardaí can’t enforce them and even if they do catch a driver guilty of a number of infringements only the one with the highest point rating goes on their record. You can sit a driving test without prior instruction. You can fail that test, get back in a car and drive away. Now here are some mad ideas: Why not train learner drivers properly? Why not reduce policing on major roads and concentrate on the minor ones where most accidents occur? Why not clamp down on the driver who speeds in a 50km/h zone and doesn’t use indicators at roundabouts? The driver who obeys these simple rules is not the one who gets in the car full of drink and kills themselves - it is the one who is continually flouting the law.

I could go on. I could tell you about how, on the second year we had car-free day, everyone drove, including those who normally take a bus or train, because the previous year the public transport system couldn’t take the strain and people were stranded. I could tell you how a debit-card system is proposed whereby under 25s can only purchase a limited amount of alcohol over a given period. It is hard enough to judge a person is under 18 but how do you know a 25 year old? We have no national ID card system. What will be the cost of installing card readers in every outlet? Will the retailers bother to use them? I could tell you how approval was given to An Garda Síochána for a secure digital radio system in 1999. It may come into use in 2010, but until then, the one they have will do even though criminals can listen in.

I could go on ad infinitum. But I’m tired. I’m tired of the whole thing. I’m tired of the State failing to do things right first time. I’m tired of the State continually patching up problems but never fixing them properly. I’m tired of the State digging the foundations and letting sections collapse because it will do. It can be difficult to see so far ahead or make the connection, but if the foundations are right the painters will have no problems.

It may never happen, it will never happen, but I dream of the day when Ritchie-right is running my country and Frankie-four-times has been banished for ever.

I hate them. Estate agents. I never had to use them but I still hate them. They are right up there with slimy politicians, slimy politicians and slimy politicians. I hate the way they are allowed hoodwink the customer and only get a gentle slap on the wrist when caught out by the Advertising Standards Authority.

A neighbour, make that ex-neighbour, recently sold up. The agent put the house on the market at €370,000. The highest offer was €350,000 and the sellers were willing to accept. But the agent had a problem with this - if it sold for €350k the rest of the houses in the development would be valued the same. He struck a deal with the buyers - they would pay €370k and he would give them €20k towards the cost of their relocation expenses. Now that’s just plain cheating.

But they are all at it. Virtually every new house is for sale with some perk thrown in. The first year’s mortgage paid. Childcare expenses covered. Conveyancing charges reimbursed. Gym membership. Holiday vouchers. Agents will offer anything rather than drop the brochure price.

Matt Dunne & Associates really take the biscuit. All the biscuits. The whole fekin tin. They are offering buyers of properties in Portharlington and Portlaoise free transport to and from work for one year. Wow, you say, that’s the mutt’s marbles. That’d do me rightly.

If something sounds too good to be true then it isn’t. Think about it. There has to be a snag. There always is. Childcare for a year - for one or all your children? Is there an alternative if you are childless or a stay at home parent? You can be guaranteed the answers are one and no.

What are the snags with Matt Dunne’s offer? Well transport will be to a central point in county Kildare. So if you work in Dublin, Laois, Carlow or indeed from home, it is of no benefit. Which central point exactly? Apparently that depends on where the largest number of buyers work. Work it out. Say 40 houses. 10 owners work in Newbridge. The remainder in 5 or 6 other locations - no more than 10 in any one. So 30 of the 40 do not get free transport. What form will the transport take? He hasn’t said, but bus would be the obvious mode. So everyone would have to be travelling at the same times.

When pressed by the local media he said three families who work in a meat processing plant in Kildare town had purchased. If 10 more employees of that company bought houses then he would provide transport for them.

So it is a case of free transport to and from work, but with enough terms and conditions to make an insurance salesman scream. He may as well be offering 10% off all haircuts, provided you avail of them on Tuesday mornings, before 10:15, you are a pensioner, your first name begins with an X, Pluto is in Uranus (painful, I’m sure) and you are bald.

Why are estate agents allowed get away with this?

Young Barry asked me if I’d sell him my car. It’s old, but unlike me, is well looked after and has such low mileage I’m often asked if I’ve had it clocked. I haven’t. It’s just that I don’t use it unless I really have to. Barry knows that, hence his interest.

He explained he wanted a car to get to school. Why, I wondered, given the bus picks him up right outside his house and drops him a 2 minute walk from school. And all for student fare. Why would he want the expense of running a car. I assumed peer pressure and a teenage male’s natural inclination to show off. No, he was just pissed off at getting home at 5:00 or later when school finished at 4:00. An hour or more to travel 6km, because the buses are always late and sometimes don’t turn up at all.

I suggested he use his bike. Or at least stop looking up the road - a watched bus never boils.

But he’s right about the buses. I know others who make the same short journey for work and all have dispensed with the services of Bus Éireann for the same reason.

I was offered a 6 month contract based at Eastpoint Business Park a short time ago. Before accepting I did a few trial runs. Bus, train, Luas, combinations thereof - I didn’t even think of using the car. The quickest return trip was 3 and a half hours for less than 30km. I turned down the contract.

It is no wonder that rural and semi-rural dwellers shun public transport even when it is available.

A number of initiatives are in place to encourage public transport use. Some are excellent such as the full tax relief available for monthly and annual travel passes. Others are stealth taxes dressed up as disincentives such as exorbitant parking fees. Others are just plain stupid. Quality bus corridors (QBC’s) that are unused - they are not on a bus route. Reducing the number of parking spaces in towns to discourage cars - rural dwellers have no where to leave their cars when they take the bus. Small unsecured carparks at train stations. Can you think of more?

What one hand giveth and the other taketh away.

The Central Statistics Office published figures yesterday showing that, including those who drive work vehicles, 65% of the population drive to work. And those involved in the various authorities wonder why.