Being too slow...

I suppose I should comment on the weekend's disappointments.

I can't feel too bad though, although several people pulled out I had half a dozen door knockers Sunday mornng and 20 people came along to the Coffee morning so that was okay.

What?

Oh, right yeah, the sporting catastrophes, well the Rugby passed me by abit as I was too busy stuffing myself silly at bit of a dinner party at the house of some Turkish-Cypriot members, none of whom knew the rules of Rugby but all of whom seemed to care about the result much more than me. I did try and tell them that as Socialists they should take more interest in the working man's Rugby or Rugby League as its known but that seemed to pass everyone...

As for Lewis Hamilton well, I think I'd best remain silent...

Except to say he was abit slow wasn't he? I mean seventh? Come on! He could drive London buses at that pace!

On that note I should point out I haven't been chucked off a bus in the wrong place for a few days now so naturally I fear the worst for tomorrow. Still I have been enjoying the much more reliable thrill of waiting in the cold and wet for half an hour waiting for the 121 in the evenings. All the more fun for the scum outside the bar next door standing around having a fag or a fight (they appear to decide which by some sort of elaborate randomized pacing system. Between 2 and 12 paces from the door a fight becomes likely). In fact it was such delights this evening that made me late for the lowlight of my week so far:

A Council meeting to decide the position of Polling Stations.

I hadn't been planning on atending, in fact I blessedly didn't know such a meeting existed until about four this afternoon. Then the phone rang.

'Hello' (said in a brisk manner. All friendliness in answering the phone has been driven out of me like people drive out of warzones; quickly, painfully and with alot of crying)
'Hi George, its Toby Simon' (a local Councillor and a nice chap)
'Hi Toby what can I do for you?' (said nicely and politely because I want him to come door knocking on Sunday)
'I just thought, its the Electoral Arrangements Committee tonight and we're discussing where Polling Stations will be placed and I thought you might find it useful. If you have plans don't cancel them but if not...'
He trailed off as I had started laughing. I had - in a knee-jerk kinda way - assumed this was a joke, but as I stopped laughing and realised he hadn't said anything else it dawned on me he was serious.
'Err yeah, well I suppose I could (you better canvass your ass off after this!!!) what time and where?'
'Thats great at the Civic Centre at half seven.'
Okay I'll see you there.' And then I wept, pretty much until it was time to get the bus.

The meeting was however the shortest Council meeting I've ever seen. Only half an hour! This was helped by the fact that one of the Labour Councillors was late and so there was no point in long debate on each point as the Tories could always just go 'Yeah well there's more of us than you so NAH-NA-NAH-NA-NAH-NAH!!!' Which is pretty much what they did.

Still you could tell that had things been even I'd still be there. Listening to them drone on and on. The vast majority of the Councilllors were in jumpers and looked like they'd been on the Council for about 70 decades (not that I'm stereotyping here). One bragged that he'd been the Tory Agent for over twenty five years (I did consider saying that as he hadn't won much in the last ten years shouldn't he consider resigning but that would of been asking for it). Most of the time I wasn't listening, but just made eyes at the pretty blonde Council worker taking the minutes instead... To be honest I think its fair to say it wasn't a jumping party.

Still thats the thing about Democracy, it takes some really boring, really stupid and really fucking pedantic stuff to keep it all running. And it may be slow and really sodding tear-your-own-arm-off-and-beat-yourself-to-death-with-it-to-liven-things-up dull but thats what it takes. You rush this type of thing and as they've just found out in Scotland it all fucks up! So I suppose being slow sometimes is an advantage...

Just not if you're a Formula 1 Driver.