Echo chambers

I am never sure if I have changed, or if the world has changed around me. I’m 48, so I’m pretty sure it is a combination of both factors. I correspond to the old adage of ” if you’re not a liberal when you are young, you have no heart, and if you are not a conservative when you are old, you have no head”.

The problem is that what those two words mean seems to have changed beyond recognition, and I don’t really like what either of them is associated with. In the age of Trump, Truss and Braverman, how can I say I’m a conservative? And when a podcast about Mamdani more or less navelgazes for several hours about whether he is “progressive” enough, I get frustrated.  Surely the question is not whether he fits into the self-aggrandisement of policy wonks, but whether his policies will in fact improve the lives of the people who voted for him. But I’m not sure the entire podcast wastes a single second on voters; just on votes, how he got them, why it worked. Not whether in fact rent controls will achieve greater prosperity for the average person.

It seems as if half of politicians spend their time solving non-problems, or trying to solve effects, not their root causes, and live in fear of having to point out that maybe some things are harder than a press release. They also have an unfortunate habit of guilt-tripping anyone who is unhappy with the status quo for reasons they believe are not valid (eg. if you are concerned by immigration, you’re a racist and the whole topic needs no further discussion). The conservative half of the spectrum apparently spend their time blaming people for the effects of policy mistakes, and claiming that removing these people from their rights or the country will solve all the problems.

It’s local election day, and I’ll vote for the same bunch of people I always do, because I know them, and the story of political families is so appealing that I would have to have a very good policy reason to vote any other way. The woman’s father died at party conference, and she stood for his seat and carries on his hard work fielding complaints about bin collections and potholes. They are better people than me.

I often intend to write more about trivia of daily life, partly because I know how much I will appreciate the detail of the children being young later, and partly because I anxiously wonder how much we will marvel in the future at things we take for granted today. Maybe I will read this a few decades hence, and be amazed at the idea of going around a stately home to have a slightly too cold picnic. We had chocolate cake in the cafe, and then went around a little set of boutique shops and managed to spend £40 in the deli, seemingly on a handful of olives, some squid ink pasta and a few pastries. The kids loved the antique shop as much as we did, and bought themselves little things – some coins, a bookmark made out of an old fish knife. They love trinkets.

It was also the weekend of Ingrid’s ballet show. I spent the afternoon volunteering to sell programmes with another mother. Then I spent the evening agonising about what she thought of me, and all the dumb stuff I said. She was an English teacher. I wanted to know what she thought of Tom Stoppard, but she did not volunteer an opinion. I managed to forget when I came back for the last stint that she had slipped into the audience, and couldn’t work out where the programmes had gone. So I  marched into the sound room while the show was on to look for them, despite the fact that obviously nobody will want a programme during the show. The main teacher and choreographer looked at me like I had two heads. I was saying to Richard that all these trivial things used to bounce off me when I was younger, but now I end up ruminating on every detail. I needed my wine.

It goes without saying that our own precious flower of a daughter was undoubtedly the best dancer there, a thought shared by the respective parents of every child involved. So it was a lovely atmosphere, although I felt a bit sad the tiny little 4 year old, dressed in a cute penguin outfit, who looked terrified and didn’t want to dance.

We also went to the garden centre and got excited about the idea of a garden room. Even got the brochure. Can’t really afford it though.

So I will vote this evening. And hope very much that it will change nothing.