I’m wriggling with happy anticipation at the prospect of the political week ahead. Well, you do have to find what joy you can, where you can in times like these, don’t you?
It’s our fabulous baby-faced Leader of the Opposition–David Cameron MP–what’s done it for me and got me chuckling over my mug of cheap-o coffee [can't afford my favourite brand any more]. He’s a rich git, born of wealthy parents, privileged childhood and automatic entry into a top university. Never known a day of hardship in his life. And here he is today, telling us that we’re about to enter into a new ‘age of austerity’ and that we need to change our ways.
Oh, boy! [Pause to dash tears of merriment from jaundiced eyes with generic tissue.] Talk about shades of Marie Antoinette: ”Well, let them eat cake!”
I await the humour from the political commentators, especially the stand-up kind, with great pleasure.
Cameron is, of course, too young to remember the last ‘age of austerity’ but I do. I remember food and clothing rationing. I remember shortages of essentials. I remember power cuts and rolling gas pressure reductions. Cameron has been insulated from all that.
Hey ho. Have to be grateful, though, for the upper-class twit has given me a good old-fashioned giggle today.
Austerity wasn’t all gloom and misery, though. People took a pride in making a little go a long way, in supporting one another when times got tough, and laughing at upper-class twits. Everyone learned to make a joint of meat last best part of a week for a family of four, and to produce three decent meals a day on pennies. Everyone learned to dance, and went out dancing at least once a week. Remember music you could dance to, and the songs you could sing along to?
You made what fun you could out of precious little. Me, I remember that the sex was fabulous, dahling.
