Navan man -- we don't know his name, as like the rest of middle Ireland he is anonymous -- is getting on with his job, but boy is he pissed off. His lips pursed, his chin shaking, he contained himself as the anger swirled in his stomach.

We know he is Navan man, not just because of his distinctive brogue, but he told us so as soon as John Bowman pointed and said, "You, yes you in the second row."

(The following is best read out loud in a strong Navan accent). "I think it's a disgrace and a scandal. We drove up here this evenin' from Navan, worried about what's happening in this country, and lookin' at the minister an' deputy arguin' like there's nothin' wrong with the economy. There's people in rural Ireland and in rural towns, they don't know what's happenin'.

"Last week the Dail was recalled to discuss the crisis and we switched on the TVs and on both sides of the House, the Government and the opposition, there was nobody there, like there was no problem . . . it's not being treated like a crisis . . . people out there are cryin' out for leadership. Are we goin' to get leadership? That's the question," he continued. The Defence Minister appeared a little stunned by the sheer honesty of Navan man. "You'll get leadership alright, we're working night and day."

Navan man was on a roll and having none of it. "When we came in here and yourself and Deputy Varadkar starts arguin' like school kids, people turn off their TVs and say, 'they're at it again'. I've a business and people are coming into my shop saying, 'Have they a plan, did they agree a plan?' Listen minister, (Willie tries to get a word in edgeways but to no avail) the thing about it is youse are not livin' in the real world. I left Ireland in 1985, interest rates were 22 per cent and I went to America for 10 years. And I came back and I'm sorry that I came back because all my 10 years in America is back to nothin'.

"I opened a business here and you're being crippled with VAT, you're being crippled with inspectors, and now minister, the thing about it is youse are on the big money, but we're employin' people and payin' our taxes. So what the people of Ireland want is leadership."

(Whoops of hear, hear and sustained applause for Navan man who deserves a spa weekend break for two for that outstanding contribution).

While Willie was getting it in the neck from Navan man, Bertie (the man who would be the next President of Ireland or the GAA) was getting a dose of it in Galway.

This anger was less civilised than Navan man and anger management had to be administered by several dozen gardai, some of whom were accused of "roughing up" students taking part in the protest, which the editor of the Connacht Tribune, Dave O'Connell, later described to Matt Cooper as "close to a full-scale riot". The students were clearly sore at being upstaged by their grannies in Dublin last October and wanted to prove that protest is still their patch and so they jostled and heckled the former Taoiseach and him still on one crutch.

The event, organised by Dan Colley, a grandson of George Colley, at the O'Flaherty lecture theatre in NUIG was abandoned as the students from FREE (Free Education for Everyone) got in a preemptive strike against the reintroduction of third-level fees. They came out in even greater numbers, but in more sober form, on the streets of Dublin, on Wednesday. Middle Ireland is angry.

What was frustration and anxiety has fermented and is manifesting itself as mounting anger, and is directed not just at the Government but at the new establishment, forged from corporate cronyism facilitated by Fianna Fail and financed by senior bankers for their big builder buddies.

The idea that the private sector is at odds with the public sector is flawed. I have heard no one saying that they want fewer gardai, teachers or nurses. The public sector are not the enemy. The public sector are our family and friends. In my immediate circle there is a company MD, salesman, journalist, and self-employed businessman. They are married to a nurse, a radiographer, a teacher and an instructor in Portlaoise prison. My friends are not sleeping with the enemy.

When ordinary people speak of the public sector they mean the middle management mandarins, the faceless pen pushers, the unaccountable and non-productive tier of administrators and bureaucrats that are now breaking us. Both Bertie and Brian Cowen baulked at their chance of radical reform when they paid out massive benchmarking increases and now we're all paying the price.

The point was well-made by successful businessman and entrepreneur of the year John Flaherty, of the C&F Group in Galway, when he said: "There are too many layers of fat in this country. The Government is closing down hospital wards, but there are people in offices a few levels above sitting around drinking coffee all day. There needs to be proper accountability and flat management structures, not one committee being held accountable to another committee." Flaherty employs 1,000 people.

Middle Ireland is angry and no one believes we're all in this together, the silent majority are seething and could soon become the violent majority if they're pushed too far. A property tax would probably do the trick.

Last week alone, 15,000 students, 6,000 workers in Waterford, and hundreds of bus drivers and taxi drivers took to the streets. Almost 5,000 junior doctors are threatening industrial action, while Jack O' Connor spoke of the need to avoid "catastrophic conflict". Impact's Peter McCloone told of "outrage and hardship" as his 50,000 members vowed to protest against politicians on Valentine's Day, and there'll be no love lost.

This Government is not good at the sums, its policies do not add up -- promoting public transport and taking buses off the streets; proffering education as a solution while planning to reintroduce third-level fees. Do the math! Take into account the additional 36,500 that swelled the dole queues to 327,900 this week -- and that does not include the 350 at Ericsson's R&D facility in Clonskeagh who lost their jobs on Thursday in this so-called smart knowledge economy.

That all adds up to one thing -- anger -- and it's not with the public sector.

George Lee, who knows everything, says that every thousand on the dole costs €11 million and that the government will be hoping that more and more people opt to emigrate. So that's Plan B. Put another way by Eamon Gilmore, it's €20,000 per year in social welfare payments and lost tax. The 146,000 that went on the dole along with myself over the last year will cost an additional €1.6bn, the very amount the Government hopes to realise from their public sector pension levy. The levy as the sum total of the Government's plan is pitiful, a tax and cut tactic devoid of any creativity or constructive stimulus that the economy needs.

The lack of business acumen around the Cabinet table is crippling the country. As he slashed services out of Shannon on Thursday, Michael O'Leary, who admittedly seems to be always angry, said: "This is very bad news for Shannon, depressing news for Ireland and all due to this Government's insane and suicidal policy of taxing tourists.

"You can't encourage tourists by taxing them, you turn them off and send them somewhere else."

When your grandchildren ask you when did the trouble kick off, tell them it wasn't the students or bus drivers, or Waterford Crystal workers or doctors and nurses, but the grannies of Ireland who got angry first. On Tuesday, October 21, 2008, thousands of grannies and grandads ran amok and almost lynched my old friend, Junior Minister John Moloney, like a sacrificial lamb on the altar of St Andrew's Church in Westland Row. The senior citizens put any self-respecting student to shame with the fire in their bellies and their clever slogans. 'No Country for Old Men -- A Fianna Fail Production' declared one placard.

Navan man is angry. Middle Ireland is angry. Watch this space.