COUNCILLOR Burnham busied himself this week by telling a gathering of Labourites that he’s from the North and likes a pie and a pint at the footie.
He really should get himself a whippet.
But then he had to make his Big Speech, and for that he had to stop making Northern noises and get down to business.
I was genuinely interested to hear what he had to say, because until that point it wasn’t really clear what we were dealing with: A Blairite centrist or a raving socialistic madman.
Well, now we know.
In essence, said that Britain had taken a and that he was going to take us back to the glory days when Britain was all about solidarity, , the cooperative movement . . . and rat-infested piles of uncollected rubbish on every street corner.
This is Cllr Burnham’s problem.
He is too young to remember what the 1970s were actually like.
But I’m not. I can remember vividly, the filthy trains and how the sandwiches we ate back then were full of coal.
Everything was full of coal. I can also remember the endless and the power cuts which meant we had to sit in the dark, huddled round a nine-inch black-and-white television that was powered by a battery from the family car.
I can remember British Leyland as well. I don’t want to, obviously, but I can.
I can certainly remember the militant trade unionist Red Robbo and how, in 1978 and 1979, he organised 523 walkouts at the Longbridge plant alone.
Occasionally, this shambolic operation did produce a car but because this was a government-run operation, it wasn’t anything you might ever want to buy. The Austin Allegro. The Morris Marina.
These are things Burnham never knew. And it wasn’t just the car factories that the state ran. It was everything.
British Steel, the , the airlines, shipbuilding, telecommunications, gas, the lot.
And nothing worked.
You think your water supply is bad now. Pah. Back in the Seventies that had coal in it too.
But Burnham has decided that’s what people want, so buckle up everyone and dig out those loon pants because that’s where we are going — whether we like it or not.
You’ll certainly need to bring your Afghan coat out of retirement because it’s going to be cold.
Of course, you might think that you’ll be able to survive the massive taxes and food shortages if we get some Seventies music back in our lives.
Because that was about the only thing that terrible decade had going for it.
But I can’t see the councillor allowing any of it really.
You’re Sixteen (You’re Beautiful And You’re Mine) by ? Not a chance. Island Girl. Brown Sugar. Kung Fu Fighting. Tonight’s The Night.
All of them would be banned. And that’s before we get to Mungo Jerry’s In The Summertime.
“Have a drink. Have a drive. Go out and see what you can find”.
That’ll be a no.
DIESEL MISERY FOR ALL
I WAS in London on Thursday and couldn’t help noticing that traffic was quite light.
And then, as I drove past a filling station on the Embankment, I was reminded of a possible reason why.
Diesel was £2.03 a litre, and there are genuine fears that it might go up even more.
Of course, if you have an electric car you will probably be smiling a warm/fuzzy smile right about now because you think it doesn’t affect you.
Well, hang on. Let’s not forget that not that long ago, Gordon Brown decided diesel was the fuel of the future and adjusted the tax rate to make it cheaper than petrol. The effect was enormous.
In the year 2000, there were three million diesel cars on the roads, but after Brown had worked his magic, that number shot up to 12million.
And then the Government decided that actually diesel was very bad and increased prices. Which left those 12million motorists up a gum tree.
Now, of course, we are being told that electric cars are the future and juicy tax breaks are on offer to those who take the plunge.
And that’s great – until the day comes when the Government changes its mind again. And makes your Nissan Leaf more expensive to run than a private jet.
In the meantime, there’s a more pressing problem.
Diesel is used by all the trucks that move our goods around the country, and the vans that then bring them to our houses – and I dread to think what effect a £2 litre will have on prices.
Problems? Nun worse than the Troubles
has dominated the TV headlines this week, and rightly so.
It’s a tremendous show and I’m especially enjoying it this time round because three of my mates are in there.
However, the thing I’ve enjoyed most on the box is a drama on Disney+ called Say Nothing.
Actually, “enjoyed” might be the wrong word because it’s set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, so it’s pretty bleak. What amazed me most of all though, as I watched them all going about their grisly business, is that it feels like ancient history.
But it was going on in my bloody lifetime.
It’s strange. We have it in our heads that the problems we face now in the UK are unprecedented.
But if you watch Say Nothing, you quickly realise . . . they aren’t.
Back then, they were worse.
LABOUR NUT CAN GO CHILL
ALL week, people have been running round in dizzy circles and frothing at the mouth because a Labour farming minister called Jenny Riddell- Carpenter – who has the most left-wing face seen in politics since Glenda Jackson – said that the image of warm beer and a black labrador by your feet in a pub is a far-Right fantasy.
She went on to add that it had probably never existed and that it shouldn’t.
Which made people even angrier.
Me though? I’m not that bothered because my labradors are fox-red, and the beer I serve in my pub is Hawkstone.
Which is best served chilled.
WHY LATE IS NOT GREAT
RESEARCHERS have announced that if you are 15 minutes late for an appointment, it’s fine because it’s fashionable.
Not until you are 29 minutes late does it become rude.
Rubbish.
If I say I’ll meet someone at 8pm and they aren’t there by one minute past, I get up and leave.
I cannot abide unpunctuality because if you arrange to meet someone and then you waft in 20 minutes late, what you are saying is: “My time is more important than yours.”
Lateness makes my teeth itch. Which is why I’m lucky to work in the TV industry.
An industry where there is only one rule.
Do Not Be Late. Ever.
I have seen people turn up for work with godawful hangovers.
I’ve seen them come straight from a club. And I’ve seen them limping in with blood pouring from a head wound.
But they always, always, ALWAYS turn up on time.
I WILL always watch a show hosted by , partly because she’s a good presenter but mostly – and I hope she doesn’t mind me saying this – because I find her very attractive.
Which is why I was extremely disappointed to hear this week that the BBC has given her a big new job . . . on the radio.
LOTS of news this week but the story that got the most coverage is: hasn’t had a haircut recently.
