Before he took early retirement six years ago, Greg was a journalist by profession, an international radio journalist, and was always watching news, devouring elections and enlivened by international and national politics. He would have been in his element this last few weeks, glued to the TV set, watching the first ever televised debates between the three main UK political contenders. He'd have been up all night last night watching every agonised constituency result come through. He would have been over the moon to hear about the electoral reform that clearly now seems on the cards. He was always a staunch supporter of Proportional Representation. He'd be jumping for joy. But he's not, because he isn't here and he doesn't know and he never will and he's missed it all by two months.
Me? I hate politics, I can't stand the all-night swingometers and I'd sooner have a decent night's sleep than watch the same drab line-ups awaiting their fate as the results in a constituency somewhere near you are read out. I'm just not that kind of person. I don't mind reading about it once all the fuss is over. I just can't stand the boring chewing of the cud. But this time,what have I done? I've watched it all (the debates/swingometers, the lot) and agonised and wondered at what's going to happen to us all in this ridiculous Hung Parliament situation we are now in. Because I've got to do it for Greg. He wouldn't otherwise know. How weird is that?