Them and us

Don't you just want to give them a slap? I know I do, and having watched Andrew Neil's documentary  this evening I think I have some justification. I realise I'm a grammar school boy from a working class home and that I can wear chips on my shoulders as stylishly as this shower show off their new romantic/Flashman fancy dress. I am also prepared to accept the possibility that if we actually did have a meritocracy some of them might still make it to the top on ability and aptitude, but the point is we'll never know. Their privilege, their money, their friends have guaranteed them their place at the top table. Let's start the campaign now for the UK's first comprehensive school educated Prime Minister. Can you imagine what an exceptional individual s/he will have to be to wrest power from these smug b'stards.

Then again, maybe politics is the haven for the greedy, the self-serving, the morally bankrupt. In which case these are clearly the (white)men for the job. I'm not a cynic, and I've worked with some incredibly gifted and resourceful young people over the years who, if they were given a fraction of the resources that this lot have had, could achieve so much. They have a wisdom and insight born of experiences that these guys could never really understand, and this country needs people in power who represent us all.

When I was younger politics always seemed more interesting when Dennis Skinner spoke up, and I really can't see anybody like him coming through now, and that's a crying shame. Maybe the student demos of the last few months could be the start of a more representative political class. I live in hope.    

Homecoming queen...

My previous post left me feeling miserable, so I've turned my thinking chap thoughts to good and hopeful things. Our oldest child flew back from America today. She's been studying for a year at an American university. I know that she has mixed feelings about being back. She loves and appreciates being home, and yet she's had to say goodbye to the other life that she's lived for the past year, with its freedoms and responsibilities and differentness. And that's her life, something that she's done that we, the rest of the family, haven't and I realise that's fine with me. I love knowing she's back under our roof and I'm amazed at the resourcefulness and strength she's shown in completing her year in the USA.

Her return has triggered an automatic appraisal of how we've all changed over the course of the year. My wife has developed as a writer, has completed a postgraduate qualification and, to me, appears to have become a woman confident and comfortable in her own skin. She'd probably say it aint so, but she's grown her hair and she has a purpose and a direction to her life and we're all in awe of her progress as a poet.

Our middle child has completed her second year of working as a teaching assistant in the local high school and is preparing to apply again to drama school. She's still only 19 and she's learned so much. We had a heated debate about education and schools a couple of weeks ago and she showed such passion  and commitment for what she does. I felt so proud of her as she dismantled my arguments.

And our baby, our 15 year old son. When his sister left for America he was smaller than her and there were still echoes of baby roundness to his face. When she stood next to him today he was a good 4 or 5 inches taller than her, still cute but with a deeper voice and a finely attuned wit and charm.

And me? Well, in the past year I've become the thinking chap and the other day I read a holiday diary I'd written 13 years ago to my wife and middle child and they laugh-out-loud loved it, so I'm beginning to think I've got something to say that people might enjoy hearing. You never know.