I’VE never got into politics on this platform – give me a couple of glasses of wine over dinner and someone who doesn’t agree with me and it’s quite a different matter. However, a couple of things have awoken my political self this week.
First of all, I tottered along to a polling booth yesterday in order to put an “X” against my preferred EU candidate. Of course, I’m not telling you whose name took my mark, but the polling booths were not quite as discreet as I remember in past voting memories.
Mind you, it didn’t really matter as there wasn’t anyone else there. This was lunchtime, when there should have been queues out the door, not tumbleweed. But there you go, if you don’t vote, don’t complain.
The night before, I had been to the first event that had a nod towards the referendum in some sort of organised manner, rather than me telling my mother she was deluded when announcing which way her vote was going.
It was neither pro nor against, just two well-informed, intelligent speakers talking about what might or might not happen. The one thing that virtually everyone agreed upon is that the talk is all about the now and come September 18 that’s going to be well and truly the past no matter whether we Scots say “aye” or “naw”. Because it won’t be the same again.
While the humbug in me doesn’t like too much change in my life, I am also very aware that not only this wee land but also the whole of the United Kingdom needs a kick up the bahookie when it comes to making sure that there is a decent land in which our children and their children can live.
I don’t know any of the answers. In fact, I’m not really too sure of many of the questions, but I just wish that the whole thing hadn’t dragged on for so long. If it takes this long to decide where to put the signpost, it’ll take a lot longer to build the road.
Next week, a few jokes. I promise.