How has it been for you? For most, this perfect storm of a recession has brought pain. Some have been able to ship the pain better than others. Then there are the people whose lives have been thrust into a transformative shock. Losing a job, or particularly a home, is difficult to recover from. And more again have had their lives devastated.

But for some, this recession has been a fine old thing. Today, we salute those who are bearing up well in the difficult climate, the great stalwarts smiling through the tears of others.

One outfit having a rare old time of it is Tesco. Last week it was revealed the retailer is demanding up to €500,000 hello money from suppliers to keep products on the shelves of its 119 stores in the Republic. The practice has been stepped up over the last two months, exactly at a time when all manner of small businesses are fighting desperately to stay alive. What better time to put the squeeze on the little guy?

According to the Irish Times, Tesco made in the region of €250m in the Republic last year. Nice work if you can get it, particularly if it's as easy as putting a gun to the heads of suppliers who are teetering on the brink of solvency.

And what about our old friend, Michael O'Leary? Last week, O'Leary was in his element. He wrapped the green flag around himself and beseeched the citizenry to "ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for Ryanair".

He spoke of his wish to bring jobs to his own country, this place where he lives, where he is raising his children. Three hundred jobs was his offering. Three hundred fewer people on the dole. Dignity restored to men and women across north Dublin, tension eased in family homes where the former breadwinner looms darkly over his brood.

O'Leary wanted to help out these people, to give something back. All that was missing was a rousing rendition of a A Nation Once Again, as O'Leary was driven off into the Mullingar sunset in his mockeyah taxi.

Most of all, though, O'Leary wanted to have some fun. He led the media by the leash all week. He must have enjoyed casting as bad guys his old pals in the Dublin Airport Authority and Aer Lingus. Surely he got a kick out of running rings round Mary Coughlan. Through the dog days of the week, poor Mary had the cut of somebody who was spending too much time hanging out in headshops.

There he was, arriving at Coughlan's department, paper cup of coffee in hand, lest the dead hand of a departmental brew be forced on him inside. He struck the pose for the cameras and ambled in to tell the elected minister how it was going to be.

O'Leary even had the unions lapping at his ankles. That must have really got him going; the unions rushing to drink in the glad tidings of their saviour, the former ogre known as Michael O'Leary.

His demand was simple. Give me that which it is impossible to give, the by now fabled Hangar 6. Allow me to humiliate the Dublin Airport Authority, Aer Lingus and the government. Give it to me now or I walk. Bye bye, 300 jobs.

He must have had great sport last week, even if his fun came at the cost of preying ruthlessly on the hopes and fears of the unemployed.

Prospering on the fear of others is one thing, but what of the poor so-called professionals forced to earn their crust from the ashes of failed businesses?

Judge Peter Kelly – a rare beacon in the dense fog of lethargic leadership – recently made reference to the fees of a corporate examiner. The fee being charged for the examinership of the Residence club in Dublin was €425 an hour. According to Kelly, the examiner, Jim Stafford, would earn €884,000 a year for the bare 40-hour week.

Of course, it's only correct that a man charged with raking over human misery and failure should be properly compensated for the stress that must be involved in his job.

Kelly also referred to the €50,000 in legal fees sought by the examiner for three days' work. Our friends down in the Law Library may be finding the going soft in other areas, but at least in the commercial courts the gravy train is speeding at full pelt through the perfect storm.

There are others out there who are exploiting opportunity at this time of living dangerously. Enda Kenny is using the recession to be himself. He has much to be grateful for. If it wasn't for the clarion call of the public interest in this turbulent climate, Kenny might have gone on living a lie. He might never have embarked on his current journey of self-discovery.

Then there is the Irish Olympic bobsleigh team, at this moment the repository of the hopes and dreams of a nation. National salvation awaits at the Vancouver games. The only dark cloud on that horizon is the real prospect that the team might defect and seek political asylum in Canada. Who could blame them if they attempted to flee a land where vultures are feasting with grim satisfaction.

mclifford@tribune.ie