THE WRONG CHOICE

One of my favourite summer tipples is Dubonnet and tonic on ice, although I admit I have not drunk it recently. I had a yen to refresh myself with this drink as the sun at last burst through and assumed my local Sainsburys could supply me with a bottle, as it has aisle upon aisle of booze. I asked a girl where I might find it – to be met with total incomprehension. She called the drink specialist and he too had never heard of Dubonnet! I felt as if I were some kind of creaky anachronism. Apparently, Waitrose has it and no doubt others, but I had to content myself meanwhile with a cooling Bordeaux rosé - no great hardship. 

Our good neighbours had a similar experience with sherry – not available in any form at the bistro they were patronizing, which boasts a well-stocked bar! It must be a generational thing – sherry and Dubonnet being unfashionable drinks, even through both are delectable and were once ubiquitous. Yet I did notice that Sainsburys were well stocked with saveloys, those mainstays of Dickensian London, much loved by “Boots” Sam and his portly coachman father Tony Weller, clearly enjoying a revival.

Dubonnet, a drink favoured by the late Queen Mother, HM the Queen and me

 

Other choices have gone agley – I apologise unreservedly to my kind readers for my false prophecies on Eurovision. I tipped the French transvestite Bilal Hassani to win with Roi but he failed to enthuse the camp hordes and instead the laurels went to a bland Dutch effort called Arcade by Duncan Laurence. Nor did the UK effort garner nul points but it was still bottom with 11 points, revised down from 16 on the night after some euro-blunder. I do hope the UK contestant Michael Rice does not have to return immediately to his native Hartlepool, a rather dismal spot these days.

How Ya Goin’ to keep ‘em down on the farm

After they see Tel Aviv…?

Worse, I suppose, is Scunthorpe, an industrial hell, perhaps soon to lose its British Steel furnaces, though her doughty citizens are trying to keep their chins up and their livelihoods going. Sadly, the end of the line is looming and the choices are narrowing hourly.

I wrote above about euro-blunders and one is being perpetuated as I write. We had elections yesterday for the European Parliament, (to be counted on Sunday in line with the rest of the EU), never contemplated when Brexit was supported by the referendum, as Brexit Day was supposed to be 29 March, but May’s incompetent gang missed the deadline. The infuriated electorate will of course give Nigel Farage a landslide; only Farage has stuck to the necessity and desirability of Brexit, hard or soft, ever since 23 June 2016. The voters appreciate him and he will speak for a large percentage of them when he loudly rattles the bars of his cage in Brussels. His endorsement will be a valuable asset to anyone standing in a future UK general election. He is indeed the People’s Choice.

Theresa May's sad but inevitable resignation

            

Today’s big event was the long-anticipated news that Theresa will be standing down on Friday 7 June as Tory Party Leader, but remains as a caretaker Prime Minister until the Tories choose a successor. I cannot lament the departure of Theresa as she has been a notably unresponsive Premier who has mishandled Brexit; I do not doubt her devotion to creating unity nor her patriotism. She was simply the Wrong Choice – at heart a Remainer, a timid and conventional thinker with no rapport with ordinary people.

May our new Prime Minister be a true believer in the Brexit cause and a determined champion of the interests of this nation!

SMD

24.05.19

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2019

SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS ARE MADE ON

It is one of the more agreeable facets of human existence that we are able to dream, to imagine ourselves in other places and in other incarnations, to taste fame and fortune as in a fairy tale or to be the victor of a titanic mythological contest. Some such reveries place us in palaces or vast mansions, to roles to which we aspire but will never experience: but other daydreams are more realistic and place us in more familiar territory, our homes, our streets our shopping malls or our jobs. Hollywood was the most successful purveyor of all these dreams for a century and has left an indelible mark on our collective psyche.

Such thoughts have been brought on by the passing a few days ago of Doris Day at the grand old age of 97, a star of stars and the most successful female performer of her time. Already a much admired big-band singer, her screen persona was as American as apple pie, confident and energetic, the tomboy girl-next-door. She exuded wholesome innocence and yet also an understated whispery allure, enormously fortified by her genuine singing ability.

Doris Day

I first saw Doris in It’s Magic in about 1950, her film debut, in a modest cinema in Aberdeen called The Grand Central, long gone, and she shone brightly, well supported by such reliable faces as Jack Carson, Oscar Levant and S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall. In the early 1950s she delighted with nostalgic pieces like Tea for Two, On Moonlight Bay and By the Light of the Silvery Moon co-starring with Gordon McRae. Her career moved up a notch with the hit Calamity Jane (1953) with Howard Keel. Her delivery of rollicking numbers like The Windy City and The Deadwood Stage were memorable but the best song was Secret Love with Doris in classic torch song mode.

Doris as Calamity Jane

Doris exuded the optimism and unchallenged attitudes of America in the Eisenhower era, when all obstacles could be overcome and all peaks climbed. Her apogee was actually in the early 1960s with her popular comedies playing opposite Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Rod Taylor, James Gardner and above all Rock Hudson, with whom she had a unique chemistry. Films like Pillow Talk, That Touch of Mink and Move over, Darling epitomized the genre, with Doris enjoying a sexless battle of the sexes and the public loved her. From 1960-64 Doris was ranked the biggest star in America eclipsing all others.

Inevitably tastes changed and stronger meat was demanded: Doris gradually lost her audience, latterly being derided as “the oldest virgin in America”. She made her last film in 1968 but carried on with her TV show. Her third, of 4 wholly unsatisfactory husbands, had embezzled her $30m fortune and she was broke. She had to work hard to rebuild her finances and eventually retired to Carmel, California devoting herself to animal charities. The media said she was reclusive, but she saw plenty of her friends – declining intrusive interviews was her call and entirely rational. Given her tempestuous private life, she would doubtless echo Madame de Stael in the early 19^th century “The more I see of men, the better I like dogs.” Brigitte Bardot followed the same road. Let’s allow Doris her privacy and happily celebrate her brilliant talent and life-enhancing career.

Our next purveyor of dreams is The Eurovision Song Contest, whose final throes are on Saturday – indeed its motto is “Dare to Dream”. This year it comes from Tel Aviv and her more Orthodox citizens will be astonished by the invasion of vast numbers of gays, trans-sexuals and bohemians to attend, commentate upon and perform at this peculiar SongFest. Last year’s winner was Israeli 25-year old Netta, a very well-built lady, who sang “Toy” wearing Micky Mouse ears and bounced about like a demented chicken. This is part of an increasingly eccentric Eurovision tradition – who can forget bearded trans-sexual Conchita Wurst who wowed us in 2014, the pride of Austria!

Netta, triumphant in 2018

                                                                

Heroically I managed to watch the first semi-finals last night, 2 hours and 10 minutes of torture, as the dire singers from 17 nations displayed their wares. I somehow kept awake and kept my scores and quite how dismal Slovenia and tuneless San Marino got through escapes me. Maybe 5 of the songs were passable. The lighting effects are flattering and we watched the girl from Australia (that well-known European country), dressed like a Christmas-tree fairy, rise through the clouds on high wires singing her ditty. Tomorrow a further 18 hit the semis and Saturday’s grand final will feature 26 contestants. I may have lost the will to live by then or will have slipped into a catatonic trance, so I cannot promise to cover the story further. Eurovision always springs surprises and even if the Balkans all vote for each other, the Scandinavians ditto and Greece and Cyprus scratch each other’s backs, my tip for the week is that the juries will be seduced by the French entry “Roi” sung by Bilal Hassani, the young gentleman below. Oh….. and by the way, the unpopular UK will gather in nul points!

Bilal Hassani, tipped singer for France

The Eurovision contestants and their fans will have their dreams of fame and fortune, as will those in all manner of global talent show. Their dreams will be very unlike the dreams of Doris Day and her followers – different aspirations, different values and quite different worlds.

SMD

15.05.19

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2019

THE BUDS OF MAY

We cherish May as the first true summer month, when we can expect some balmy and unforgettable days, many flowers are in bloom, a time for picnics and barbecues, the start of the cricket season and the climax of the football one - and yet as Shakespeare warned us in his sonnet:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

This month can be very changeable – this year a gloriously warm Easter has been followed by an indifferent start to May and we have shivered in our cotton trousers, donned too hastily we fear. So, May has many pleasures but also hidden perils.

The traditional flower of May is the Lily of the Valley, a delicate and sweetly aromatic blossom, which formed the basis of a famous Dior perfume and makes a delightful wedding bouquet. Traditionally it symbolises chastity, happiness and good luck.

Lily of the Valley

               The downside is that this flower is highly toxic to eat – so keep babies, dogs and cats well away – another example of the sinister side of May!

             “May” is used as both a Christian and a surname. Princess May of Teck, of German origin but born and bred in Cambridge, was handsome, intelligent and biddable as a young girl. She was first betrothed to Edward VII’s eldest son Albert Victor, heir to the throne, but he almost immediately died of ‘flu. May easily transferred her affections to the new heir George and they duly married. When George V ascended to the throne in 1910, May became known as Queen Mary and well supported her dull martinet of a husband. Mary became very imperious and formidable.

Formidable Queen Mary

               Her long life ended in 1953, by which time she was the Dowager Queen Mary, grandly ensconced in Marlborough House. She was famously acquisitive, terrorising aristocratic hosts with heavy hints that she coveted their heirlooms and it is rumoured Mayfair antique dealers shuttered their shops, when news spread she was in the area, for fear of losing stock, and money, to her desire for a “kind gift”!

May's famed on-drive

                                              

               Of those whose surname is May, my schoolboy favourite was Peter May, captain of England’s cricket team in the 1950s, a prolific batsman with 13 test centuries and 85 first class centuries to his credit. An amateur, he captained England 66 times, Surrey in its glory, playing a straight bat to life in a different world from ours.

               A newer generation will cherish Jonny May, the English rugby winger and pride of Leicester Tigers. Still in his prime, Jonny is most admired for his speed and finishing skill and he will carry on scoring tries.

Jonnie May scores for England against France

         

               Of course, the elephant in the room in discussing the surname “May” is our Prime Minister, Theresa May. She has none of the skills of those above and we Brexiteers will never forgive her incompetence and double-crossing and prefer not to talk about her. This piece therefore will not carry her likeness!

               I earnestly hope Brexit will happen and my belief in miracles was much fortified by this week’s amazing 4-0 victory by Liverpool over Barcelona after trailing 0-3 from the first leg. A feast awaits us with the Champions’ League Final in Madrid on 1 June!

What a Win!

SMD

8.05.19

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2019

GETTING THINGS DONE

As a deserving pensioner and venerable greybeard, I believe I am on top of my game, dispensing robust opinions on a range of matters, matured by a long experience of the ways of the world. This is another grand illusion: the truth is more earth-bound and banal. I am far from being an exemplar to others. I am idle, sedentary and obese; I receive my cultural and intellectual stimuli stuck firmly in my armchair; my doctors treat me for high blood pressure, diabetes, incontinence, heart irregularities and gout – otherwise I’m fine! I am also slowly going gaga, forgetting names, places and events, and not just the nasty ones, forsooth!

The way things are going!

I can be very critical of others when they fail to do what I think they ought to do, but I have to admit I too am guilty of indolence, incompetence, procrastination and that spirit of manãna, which we pin on the Spaniards. I veer away from making that long-delayed financial return, avoiding awkward phone-calls, or proffering that necessary apology, eating that slice of humble pie or proposing that compromise to kick-start an agreement. As we grow older, alas, we tend to become more stiff-necked, stubborn and bloody-minded – making my notions of society more confrontational and less comfortably inclusive. Any liberal ideals have withered, as I see it, due to their abuse by the chattering classes and they are now relegated to guilty memories. I wish it were otherwise, but there we are.

How much harder it is for a nation to agree a defined course of action and get things done, when the issue is as complex, divisive and now emotionally charged as Brexit. Parliament is dead-locked, parties are divided and the government is paralysed. Persuasive leadership or alternative plans are entirely absent, a sad commentary on this feeble generation of politicians.

The luckless electorate looks on with horror at this Westminster spectacle. The voters were promised Brexit on 29 March by all the major parties – it has not happened. We fume and take our anger out on the local elections – the Tories lose 1,300 seats as supporters go on strike (even faltering in iconic Tunbridge Wells and my staunch Folkestone) while Labour makes no progress, losing 70 seats (even in heartlands like Sunderland and Bolsover). Yet these results will not matter to the Brexit shenanigans. More spectacular will be the landslide success of Nigel Farage’s Brexit Party in the Euro-elections on 23 May, with the Conservatives facing annihilation. I will vote for Farage whose witty and eloquent advocacy of the Brexit cause has been admirable. I will feel better for the protest, but again Brexit will be no nearer.

We are asked to invest our hopes in a compromise between May’s Tories and Corbyn’s Labour. This is a highly unappetizing prospect. May has already secured a dud deal, three times rejected by the Commons and a compromise will only make it worse. Labour, confused and contradictory throughout the Brexit debate, favours negotiating access to the Single Market and becoming a member of a new Customs Union linked to the EU. To my ears, this amounts to Brexit in Name Only, and anyhow is unlikely to be accepted by the EU, who will insist on freedom of movement for the UK/EU too and veto UK foreign trade deals.

Expect nothing from these two has-beens

Frankly I would not do business with Corbyn, whose absurd policies and background in far-Left agitation put him beyond the pale. His retinue is even worse. Theresa May is a busted flush with no authority and the sooner she is sacked as Tory leader the better. She has shown herself to be not up to the job and to be arrogant and uncommunicative into the bargain. New leadership is now essential.

Our feather-bedded politicians boast of their skill in securing a deal by their mastery of fudge, ambiguity and the clever management of opinion. Well, the public is waiting to see their display of the black arts – it had better be good or else the fabric of our society may start to disintegrate and change, reform or revolution (call it what you may) will carry all before it in a mammoth and rather nasty tsunami.

SMD

5.05.19

Text Copyright Sidney Donald 2019

THE UNDERDOG

The engaging Teddy Hall team

Two days ago, I watched the Final of University Challenge and, in a cliff-hanging contest, my old college, St Edmund Hall, was just pipped by a fine team from Edinburgh University. I had watched all the earlier rounds and marvelled at the range of knowledge demonstrated, not least by the omniscient Freddy Leo. But Edinburgh were just that bit sharper on the day – and at least they represent a Scottish university! I do think it reasonable to point out (but no excuses implied) that the undergraduate body at Teddy Hall numbers 405 while that of Edinburgh tops 23,000, so a win by the Hall would have been giant-killing of a high order.

We all enjoy a frisson of inspiration when the underdog wins through against impossible odds. It was so in 480 BC when Leonidas and his band of 300 Spartans defended to the last the pass at Thermopylae against the vast horde of Xerxes’ Persians and the Bible tells us of the heroism of young David killing the Philistine giant Goliath with a single sling-shot.

Thermopylae

David slays Goliath ( by Caraveggio)

 

                               

As a callow schoolboy I recall the pleasure we got when we were read Macaulay’s poem celebrating the epic defence of the bridge over the Tiber by the Roman soldier Horatius against the army of Lars Porsena of Clusium, King of the Etruscans. Who can forget the famous lines?

Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods.    

Horatius, with two others, prevents the bridge being captured, falls into the raging river but survives so that “even the ranks of Tuscany could scarce forbear to cheer”

Horatius holds the Bridge

                       

                                               

As a general rule, however, it is usually a bad idea to back the underdog. Favourites win races – just ask your bookie. My beloved Scotland wasted much emotional and political capital supporting the Stuarts, a dynasty unwilling to adapt to the modern world of its day, and the damage done by Bonnie Prince Charlie and his circle was grievous. Visit the sad site of Culloden, near Inverness and view the forlorn cairns, marking the mass graves of Clans like the Donalds, the Frasers, the Chattans and the memorials to brave but misguided Clans such as MacLean, MacIntosh, MacLachlan and MacGillivray. A whole feudal civilisation was wiped out by the folly of its leaders.

A Cairn to underdogs at Culloden

A more sinister result of proclaiming yourself an underdog is that it can give ammunition to those who seek to exploit feelings of resentment against the more successful in society. In Scotland the SNP has made a living from blaming others, especially the English, for all national woes – in reality the Union delivers an excellent deal to Scots. But the idea of “victimhood” simmers below the surface and is corrosive to the free-thinking spirit. Hitler deployed this tactic when he depicted himself as Ein arme Meldeganger (a poor despatch runner) which played well in post-Great War Germany.

In some countries we have already seen the triumph of the underdog. In Italy comedian Beppe Grillo led his Five-Star movement to the brink of power in the 2013 elections and it still governs in coalition. He is trying to step back to a world he knows. In the Ukraine unpronouncable TV comedian, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, has just thrashed the incumbent and becomes President on 3 June. He looks rather non-plussed by the challenges he faces. Of course another comedian, Donald Trump, has held the reins of power in America since 2017, a complete stranger to high office. His brash ignorance sends shudders down the backs of the more thoughtful, but he will probably win a second term. As the poet observed; “When ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise”.

Beppe Grillo

Volodymyr Zelenskiy

Yesterday was St George’s Day, with Britain certainly beset by enemies within and without. We call on England’s patron saint to come to our aid, to slay the dragons and liberate the underdogs among us with immediate effect.

SMD

24.04.19

Text Copyright Sidney Donald 2019

GONE TO POT

I doubt if I am the only Brit who is despairing about the fate of the nation, who has been bamboozled by the violent turns of policy over Brexit and whose faith in the honesty of politicians and the integrity of government officials has been all but extinguished. We have witnessed the blatant abuse of our cherished institutions by our tin-eared Prime Minister, by the fevered Speaker, by a fetid battalion of office-crazed Ministers and by a mob of cynical third-raters masquerading as sane Members of Parliament. At a time when leadership was clearly needed, we have been given empty slogans, can-kicking delays and shameful manoeuvres creating a vacuum that populists are certain to fill and from which they will reap tangible advantage. Yet hand-wringing gets us nowhere and we must make Brexit a Renaissance and a triumphant Renewal.

 

Boris Johnson, Jeremy Corbyn and Dominic Grieve – they missed the bus and will be discarded

Brexit has divided us grievously into Remainers and Leavers. This distinction is far too absolute, as there is a range of nuance modifying every individual’s attitude to this issue. As a Brexiteer I do not question the good faith of most opponents other than that of the outright Wreckers, who seek to kill Brexit by hook or by crook, irrespective of public opinion. The country voted for Brexit and all the man in the street expects is that his politicians deliver it in a reasonable form. If the UK and EU cannot agree terms, then the UK leaves with no deal – a pity, but entirely in accordance with the referendum vote. Vested interests in government, in business, in the City and in the professions fear change but they will have to adapt to the inevitability of Brexit; most are doing so without any great fuss. We do have to re-learn how to operate as an independent country – as we did quite adequately from 1066!

Brexit has consumed us since 2016. We need to raise our heads and consider the many other issues which matter to our nation, including:

-          The financing of public services in education, in the NHS and in social care.

-          The priorities of defence policy in a changing world.

-         The effectiveness of government in devolved entities like Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland or the “Northern Powerhouse”

-      The value given by large infrastructure projects like HS2, Heathrow expansion and the Oxbridge Corridor.

-          Reform of the House of Lords and changes in the voting system.

-          Creation of a fairer tax system, cracking down on avoidance.

-          The preservation of rural Britain and the protection of its fisheries.

-          How to improve the productivity of British industry.

-          Restoring some degree of safety to our crime-ridden urban areas.

It may well be that Brexit has dislocated the party system for generations just as the repeal of the Corn Laws did in 1846. I can foresee a rump of Tories Leavers making common cause with formidable Nigel Farage in a new party of the Right, heirs to the traditional conservatives. Another more amorphous grouping would unite the “wetter” variety of Tory Remainers with Lib Dems and would attract eco-warriors, bourgeois protesters and the tender-hearted in general. Welsh Nationalists and the crypto-fascist SNP would occupy a dark and dismal corner, hopefully a rapidly diminishing band. The admirers of agitation, turmoil and Marxist-Leninism would stand with Corbyn and the rump of Labour on the Hard Left.

 

Dominic Raab, Nigel Farage, Yvette Cooper – Future Leaders?

After Brexit, heads will be cleared and the Old Guard will be either defeated or discredited. New ideas are bursting into bloom and some old values will be revived. I am pleased that Westminster itself will soon be closed for a major refurbishment – its procedures are in dire need of modernization. Just as Notre Dame de Paris will return changed but with its finest elements retained, so the Palace of Westminster can discard its fustian, govern honestly and finally serve its electorate – we want to be proud of, not mired in shame by, our great Parliamentary institutions. We want to be a united nation once again.

SMD

18.04.19

Text Copyright ©Sidney Donald 2019