News from Labour Matters

Happy first anniversary Prime Minister?

Today marks the first anniversary of our Prime Minister’s assent to Number 10, and, as every other newspaper is no doubt doing so, Labour Matters is going to take this opportunity to reflect on Gordon Brown’s premiership. We’re told that today is “business as usual” for you Gordon, but forgive us if we take a more light hearted tone. We should, after all is said and done, be celebrating.

Our guest editor, Arthur Jones, has decided however that he should mark the day with a heartfelt and rather personal appeal to you Prime Minister…

Arthur, aided by his wife, writes:
“So it was exactly a year ago that you and your good wife strode up Downing Street towards the awaiting microphones to deliver the immortal words:
“I have just accepted the invitation of Her Majesty the Queen to form a Government. This will be a new Government, with new priorities, and I have been privileged to have been granted the great opportunity to serve my country.”

We glowed with pride that Labour had not only won a third term, but that you had at last taken your rightful place at the head of government. Your words filled us with hope, and as the honeymoon which followed showed, your words epitomised exactly what the British public wanted – a new government, with new priorities.

We will gloss over what went wrong, and instead today, as Labour languishes at it’s nadir and your own personal ratings resemble those of an 18th Century pickpocket on the way to the gallows, we thought that you might like to look ahead at what the next two years will bring us ordinary folk.

Firstly, let us make it clear that we don’t blame you for rising food and energy prices, nor the bursting of the housing and credit bubble, but the result of these are pressing on all our minds. We were told that “things could only get better” but, right now, as we worry about our debt, and consequently where our next meal is coming from, we are utterly miserable. And that’s not miserable in the Tom Harris sense, but in the please-can-I-get-drunk tonight so that for a few moments I can forget all my troubles sense!

Of course, we know that you understand how we’re feeling, although it’s nice of you to tell us that you empathise with our circumstances, but kind words don’t butter any parsnips (as my Granny used to say, before she was confined to a private care home due to Alzheimer’s disease).

When you said that it would be “a new government with new priorities”, we thought you meant us. We are the very people you keep going on about. We are a hard-working family which (mostly) plays by the rules.

We cheered you then, but we really need you now Gordon.

We need you to open your wallet and give us relief. We are moving backwards, not forwards, and our belts are as tight as they can be. So, on this anniversary, I hope you don’t mind that we didn’t buy a cake. Forgive us for moaning, this is your day after all, and you don’t want to hear about how utterly rubbish it is not to be a high-flyer in The City, do you?

The kids are in bed now, and we’re shortly going to raise a glass to you and your family. It’s got to be tough work running the country: being applauded abroad (nice work there by the way), but vilified daily at home. Those newspapers are very unforgiving aren’t they? Is there really nothing you can do to mitigate the bile they spew?

Anyway, cheers Gordon,! We would normally be less sanguine at this hour, but that decision to reclassify cannabis to class-B again has put us right off our normal after-dinner joint. The wife’s still not sure whether she can forgive you, to be honest. I’ve told her it makes little difference unless we get caught by the cops, but she’s too paranoid all the same. There are less smiles in the house nowadays as a result, but we’ll survive!

Talking of smiling, it’s good to see you showing your teeth more nowadays. We came to Number 11 once, and you were the exact opposite of the dour workaholic we’d been led to believe you were. Bravo for coming out of the Treasury purdah and showing everybody else just how human you are! Secretly we admire your dedication to your work, and wish that we too could be so arduous in our own, but frankly it’s all a bit of a drudge for many of us. We do the same thing day in and day out, without a word of thanks, and we hate it.

A few years ago we might have said that we would be looking forward to our pension, but to be frank, we don’t talk about that anymore. Granny had to sell her house to pay for her care when she finally got too old, and we’re a bit worried that the same fate awaits us. The wife, who is less of a fan than I, often wonders whether all our work will end up in some money-grabbing scumbag’s hands instead of in our children’s sticky mitts. We are all getting older, including the nation, after all.

We really don’t know where we went wrong, but once upon a time, we were – what did you call it a few days ago – oh yes, “aspirational”. Now, all we hope for is that the kids will fare better than us. Speaking of which, thank you so much for the SureStart thing. It’s marvellous. My grandson is doing brilliantly. Can we have more of that please?

Now I come to mention it, all the state education system is so much better than it was. Thanks for that too.

And the Health Service: what can I say? Fabulous! You’ve done exactly what we wanted you to do, and to hear that we will soon be able to the doctor after work, or at the weekend, is a big step forward as well. We were very worried that the Conservatives were secretly planning to destroy the NHS, but you’ve shown us all that it was only sick because of a lack of investment and not because it was broken. Bless you for that.

Hark at us! We promised to follow your slogan and look forward, not back, but have done nothing but dwell on the past and our own misfortunes. OK, to the future Gordon: the hard times we understand – “boom not bust” not withstanding – but when are you planning to reveal the “new priorities” you promised last year?

You do know that we all loved you when you didn’t sound like that other chap, Tony, don’t you? Why not try doing that again?

And whilst you’re trying new things, would you mind asking your team to start putting the boot into the Tories a bit? Not in a nasty way of course, the Misses hates the sight of blood, and we both know that you could easily take that toff Cameron with one hand behind your back, but when they make up policy which would leave the kids in the you-know-what, would you mind shouting your objections from the rooftops?

Which brings me rather deftly to housing, even if I say so myself!

When I was at school, and that’s going back some years now, housing policy was measured by how many homes were built by whichever government. One Party built a million new houses, only to be outdone by Labour who built more. I’m not sure when that stopped exactly, but Mrs Thatcher selling off the Council houses, for me at least, marked the end of that game. We bought ours of course (well it would be daft not to, wouldn’t it?). But we stayed loyal to Labour all the same, unlike Ted down the way who only started voting Labour again after that corrupt shower got caught taking bungs in brown envelopes. I’d wasted many a pint warning him, but he didn’t believe me until it was so obvious that even he had to admit that they were no better than merchant bankers!

Oh yes, I like the odd pint, but have you seen the price nowadays for a glass of the brown stuff? My escape was, as was my father’s before me, to slope off to the comfort of the Pipe and Barrel. It’s just called The Barrel now, what with the smoking ban and all, but I understand that you want us all to stop smoking and have aimed your fire at the pubs first. I can live without my pipe, but I really worried about my sister’s kid.

You’ve not met my sister, but I think you’d get on quite well. She wastes nothing. Every scrap of left-over food becomes tomorrow’s dinner. She even brews her own beer to help make ends meet – it’s tough being a single parent – you know how it is. But her daughter, who’s now at university studying law thanks to the financial help you provided while she was in school, is already worrying about where she’s going to live when she’s working to be a barrister (no, honestly, she plans to wear silk, which is amazing for a ‘deprived’ kid from rural Wales).

She’s one of the few who are praying that house prices plummet because otherwise she doesn’t have a hope. And it was her who told me about Jemma who “got up the duff” and was slotted into a Council house, thank you very much! Is there really nothing you can do to help out there? Not provide housing for aspiring barristers I mean, that would be daft, but can we have some affordable housing for the not-so-poor-but-not-up-the-duff too?

As I’m telling you about the family, it would be remiss of me not to mention my nephew. Between you and I, I’m not really sure how it is that one kid can end up at university while the other is in borstal, but there it is. He’s a good kid at heart though, and we’ve been doing our best for him, but everybody seems to hate teenage boys nowadays. Which reminds me: tell that Smith woman, who spells her first name all wrong, to lay off calling my nephew “a yob” will you? He’d probably have gone to youth club like I did at his age, instead of spray painting the town hall, if there was a youth club anywhere nearby. It really isn’t all his fault you know.

Honestly, despite all we have to put up with, I worry about him the most. He should be looking forward to a bright future – he’s not stupid, despite all the troubles – but he’s actually more likely to end up in prison than he is to buy his own house. When Mr Blair said that Labour would be “tough on crime and tough on the causes of crime” did he really mean that we would have to build more and more prisons to accommodate the likes of my nephew? I hope not, but the prisons are bursting at the seams and, let’s face it, we both know that a bit of porridge does nobody any good.

Oh my, we’re at it again aren’t we – talking about our troubles rather than your big day! Sorry about that, but now I weigh it up, your anniversary doesn’t seem that important to me anymore. I’d really, really, like it if you could make some changes to make life better for us all in the short term as well as the long, but maybe I’m really as naive as the wife tells me I am. Until I wrote this letter to you I didn’t know how utterly disappointed I really felt about the last year. I’d love to blame the wife for all the negativity but that would be unfair.

Gordon, I’m worried. Not just for myself and my family, but for the Labour government too. I was so proud, now I’m scared that it’s all coming undone.

There’s even talk of you getting the sack, or rather “retiring due to ill health”. It reminds me of that excellent BBC adaptation of Chris Mullin’s ‘A very British coup’ back in the late 1980’s. A man in your position must have seen it, but it’s not the coup attempt I’m referring to (although watch out for that!). No, it’s one scene where, early in the new Prime Minister’s new role, the lead character is dancing with an old firebrand and, we assume, lover. “We’re not going to cock it up this time, are we?” she enquired quietly. I may have misremembered that a bit, but remind yourself of that book or program yourself. Chris Mullin has more than one lesson to teach there.

So let me ask you Prime Minister: is the future really going to be two years of more, or God forbid, worse than it is now? Is all we have to look forward to a Conservative government lead by that charlatan Cameron?

Heavens Gordon, you have the power to make it better for us now and in the future. When are you planning to start with your “new priorities”? Will it be in the next year? The wife and I really do hope so, because right now we’re looking back to the Blair years with some affection. And we never really liked him much at all, even though we voted for him.

I’m sorry that I’ve been so negative, but right now we’re not feeling that positive. Only you can change that, so here’s hoping that the next year will be better than the last. Oh, and one more thing: do not, under any circumstances, have that Thatcher woman to tea again. It started to go wrong after she showed up in her red suit!

Please note that this is parody!

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