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Back in the 1980s I went on a school trip to London that involved a tour of the Houses of Parliament and we even got to walk through the chamber. I don't know how the Kings of Wessex swung that, but what a coup.
I was a weird child, full of an impossible mixture of insecurity and super confidence (nothing has changed), viewing myself as a combo of Jesus and Gandhi (only better) and I remember thinking how amazing it was to be in this seat of power and that maybe one day I would get to sit here. I got a sense of destiny....
And today that young man saw his dreams come true, although he was sitting on a seat on a gallery above the main action. I was getting to watch Prime Minister's Question Time alongside journalist Matt Chorley so we could talk about it on his 5 Live show. Which is probably better than being an MP.
It's still a thrill to be allowed inside this historic building. Sadly my barrels of gunpowder were spotted by security on the way in, but they let me through anyway and said they'd try the same if they could. Seems like the politicians are wise to the whole gunpowder plot thing these days.
Matt was a kind host and it was fun to spend a couple of hours with him. We were in the journalist section which was reached via a rickety lift or stairs with threadbare carpet. It was fun to watch this once, but not sure I'd like to have to come back every week as so much of the event seemed performative or pointless. The opening exchange where a child of immigrants complained about a family from the wrong war zone refusing permission to come into the country and the Prime Minister agreeing that they shouldn't be let in was quite depressing - as was the amount of time that "open borders" were being discussed, whilst global warming was not addressed and worried about Trump were smoothly ironed over.
Farage (a disgrace to the one-balled community- Hitler and Lance Armstrong must look at him in shame) and his mates watched on like cats that were wanking up cream and then eating each other's cream and smearing each other's cream on their faces, successful in having tipped the political agenda entirely in their favour. I wondered if he'd ever get to sit at the front, or even be answering the questions (though that might be too much like actual work for him), but regardless he has had more influence on 21st century UK politics than anyone else.
The standard of comedy was low and the standard of debate not much better. I still had a great time though. It's a real privilege to witness even a bad one.
More local issues were dismissed with the PM saying how important they were and that meetings would be set up. The leader of the opposition seemed unable to argue without following what was written on her notes (even if the question had already been answered), the Prime Minister seemed to be phoning it in a bit I thought, with one or two exceptions and I found it hard to believe he'd had any vocal coaching, but maybe he'd elected to go to a really bad John Majors impressionist for that. He has been very disappointing so far and if he thinks he has to kowtow so much to people who hate immigrants even with his huge majority, then it's a sad state of affairs. There was a lot of blaming the previous government for stuff, which whilst entirely fair enough, starts to look like a poor excuse. You can only claim that it's your first day for so long. Ed Davey was the only one who seemed remotely competent to me and he didn't even need to come in on a zipwire. Most impressively perhaps, I now know his name without having to look it up. Mission accomplished.
I got to eat lunch in Portcullis house, a few tables away from Neil Kinnock, who I was surprised to see as I thought that he had died. When I worked for the West London phone book my instructor had shown us the ex-directory computer and looked up Neil Kinnock's number to show us the kind of person who was on there. Which was surely not right. Especially given I wrote down the number and would later drunkenly ring it. I think it might even have been on election night, when Neil lost, perhaps hoping to give him my sympathies (but I might be misremembering). No one answered luckily and he didn't have an ansaphone. I was not arrested.
What a rare privilege to see something like this from this perspective and thanks to Matt and the team for making it such fun.
As I walked home from the station a man who smelled of funny cigarettes (though let's face it, everywhere smells like that now, so it might just have been Hitchin) jumped in front of me and said "Hello". I said hello back. Did I know him? Did he recognise me from my appearance on Never Mind The Full Stops?
He said "Would you like to hear a poem?"
"Sure," I said.
He seemed surprised, "Oh great. Most people say no. I'll walk up with you."
I didn't have any money on me and let him know that, but he was cool with that. He was a true artist. This was about the work and the performance and he was not expecting anything in return
He then proceeded to recite a self-penned piece about a daisy and whether its simplicity was not enough to keep the poet interested. I couldn't hear it all, but it was a passionate recital with some interesting language and complex ideas. It might have ended with him calling the daisy a bitch, but I am not sure about that. It would have been a surprisingly violent ending to a lyrical piece, but then poetry has to be allowed to take you to unexpected places.
I thanked him and told him there was some great ideas and language in there - which was true and he was made up, agreeing that his poem was brilliant.
I haven't been to see many poets that I thought might suddenly attack or stab me at any moment, though I was fairly confident there was a gentle heart behind the performance, but it was cool to have that frisson. It cheered up my walk home, where there would likely have been no poetry otherwise and it made the poet very happy to have shared his brain with me. He dashed back in the hope of finding another willing audience. Hitchin rocks.
To be fair, if it had happened in London I might have said I didn't want to hear a poem.
For those of you who like watching the podcasts, we're gradually putting up some of the old shows that haven't gone up on youtube in full before.
This one with David Mitchell. It's not really practical to monetise these, so if you felt like buying a ticket or a book or a download or donating to Scope or Movember or even just listen to some of the audio pods in return then that would be helpful
