Sure, we're a nation of self-promoters and that's got a certain charm in and of itself like the too good looking boy at the bar who gets away with the cheesiest pick up lines because he delivers them with his tongue firmly in stubbled cheek and a glint in the eye. But has anybody spotted a rash of particularly strident own-back-patting recently? Cases in point: The closing scene of The Stag. And Failte Ireland's new Paddy's Day video.
Maybe together they're just a massive burp after gallons of force fed economic cod liver oil but we can't remember a collective chest thumping this big since Jean Butler came busting out of the wings of the old Point at Eurovision 1.0, her little feet on fire.? From there, it didn't take a country minute for Ireland to swagger its way to a Haut Tigre superiority complex.? If we believe our own PR this time, the recovery could be just as fast. And gauche.
It'd be nice if this time round, though, we're all a bit more reticent and don't lose the complete run of ourselves again. No strutting about trying to build the tallest building in the world or hanging out at designer water bars in the airport. We really don't need to shout about our achievements from every rooftop and screen, lads. If Ireland really becomes the best place in the world to live, work and be, let's keep relatively quiet about it, sit back and smell the shamrock. At least for a little while.