Je suis Brenda?

SCENES from modern life. There you are, a nicely turned out lady of a certain age, walking down the street, enjoying the Spring sunshine on your face. Ahead are two chaps, one of them toting a camera, the other holding a long fuzzy black thing that looks like a Scottie dog in need of a wash and blow.

“Excuse me madam,” says the man with the mic.“What do you think of Theresa May calling an election?”

What do I think, ponders the lady. I think I’ve worked hard all my life, paid my taxes, put the bins out on the right days, not invaded any countries on the pretext of finding weapons of mass destruction that don’t exist. All I want now that retirement has rolled around is a bit of peace and quiet and for Eggheads to be on at the weekends … But hang on. Someone is shouting. Someone that sounds like me. But it can’t be me. Oh, but it is.

“You’re joking! Not ANOTHER one! Oh, for God’s sake, I can’t, honestly, I can’t stand this! There’s too much politics going on at the moment. Why does she need to do it?”

Thus did Brenda from Bristol fire the starting gun on the General Election of 2017. Theresa from London had done it formally, with all that business with the Queen and a podium in Downing Street, but it was only when Brenda exploded on the BBC that we knew the fun and games had truly begun.

Not that you would think it was fun and games from the way some commentators have rushed to form a “Je suis Brenda” movement. Woe is us, they wail, having to endure another election. But there is an art to enjoying elections, an art built on the principles of embracing the good and rejecting the bad and the ugly.

Brenda, for example, is an unalloyed good thing, falling as she does into the category of Andy Warhol Ordinary People Who Become Famous For a Bit. There are folk like this in every election. Remember Gillian Duffy, the pensioner Gordon Brown was caught on mic moaning about? Sharon Storrer, who verbally decked Tony Blair over NHS bed shortages? You don’t even need to be a whole person to cause an upset: witness the role played by Jennifer’s ear in the 1992 election.

The next category of good thing is Reporters Forced to Chase Politicians While Wearing Hot Sweaty Costumes. The Mirror has had a head start on this, digging out the chicken suit used against David Cameron for not taking part in the TV debates and deploying it against Theresa May for the same reason. This time round, we would like to see Jeremy Corbyn stalked by an empty seat in homage to his Virgin Trains flub, Nicola Sturgeon being shadowed by a giant, inflatable Alex Salmond (a £5 prize if you can tell the difference), and Ruth Davidson being haunted by a six foot high family tax credits form, complete with rape clause.

Other good things include party political broadcasts, not because they ever change anyone’s mind but because they often feature politicians trying to act like normal people, with hilarious results. While the politico is pitching for Robert Redford in The Candidate, in reality they are pure Acorn Antiques.

Lots of good things, then. As for the bad and the ugly, I think we can all agree on what we would like to see and hear less of in this election, starting with politicians’ verbal tics. Uttering such phrases as “I/we have been very clear”, or starting every answer with “So…”  ought to be punishable by 50 lashes. Tad harsh, but by this time next week you’ll be thanking me.  

Also heading for election room 101 should be pollsters. They called the last General Election wrong, the EU referendum, and Trump, yet suddenly they are being listened to again. Ditto talking heads, witheringly dubbed “Eddie the Expert and Clarrie the Commentator” by Tory strategist Lynton Crosby. While we’re in the banning business, Nigel Farage. He is not standing, media bookers, therefore he has no more right to air time than Jean-Claude Juncker.

An election without pollsters, egomaniacs, bores, and hot air. What do you say Brenda from Bristol? Brenda?

Goodness, she can’t half shift for a woman of her age.

Buddy, can you spare a dime?

WHILE elections are jolly affairs for the victors, we should spare a thought for those who will be defeated, and those who have opted not to stand again. In the latter category is former Chancellor George Osborne, who will now have to get by with just five jobs.

How will he cope now that he only has his editorship of the Standard, two consultancies, a fellowship, and a host of stonkingly well paid speaking gigs here and abroad to fall back on? For pity’s sake, he has only been able to bank £1 million since last May for his speeches; that’s barely enough to buy a cup of tea and a bun in some parts of London.

Mr Osborne announced his departure in his signature style of silky arrogance cloaking a cast-iron sense of entitlement. “I am stepping down from the House of Commons - for now. But I will remain active in the debate about our country’s future and on the issues I care about. At the age of 45, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life just being an ex-Chancellor.”

I’m not sure about that, George. Some politicians leave office and you know they won’t be away for long such is their talent or ability to stand out from the mediocre. Alex Salmond is one, Michael Heseltine another, even Nick Clegg looks to have a few more miles in him. But you, George? Not missing you already.

Taking the exit from common sense

OH to have shares in satnavs. The navigation aids are having a moment, with the new driving test requiring learners to show they can use the devices safely, and the number of satnavs soaring.

“We are officially a nation of satnav junkies,” says Rod Jones of the comparison website, uSwitch. But according to a survey carried out by his firm, we are not all using the gizmos wisely. Many motorists are relying too much on them and not enough on common sense, leading them to make such errors as going down a one-way street the wrong way.

I was an early and disastrous adopter of satnavs, back when they were useless at resetting themselves when the driver went wrong. The final straw came on a motorway journey where I missed the exit and had to drive for 20 miles with a posh woman shouting “TURN AROUND WHEN POSSIBLE” at me. Much swearing followed; and not by the satnav lady. By the time I stopped the car, me and satnav were on the road to divorce.

You can understand the attraction of satnavs. Who would not want someone in the passenger seat of life, telling you what to do and when you have gone wrong? Thank God mothers can do the same job.