By Isle of Wight Observer
I have a gift for spotting flaws, which means I’m never completely content with anything. Of course, none of us is perfect, but the people around me often disappoint. Even my closest friends have issues.
I’ve never lived in the perfect house. When visitors gushed about the lovely garden or fabulous kitchen, I saw a different picture. Almost every home I’ve owned had a sloping garden. They either rose towards the building or sloped away from it. The last one had a sideways tilt. This may not seem very important to you, but it always bothered me. Why is it so hard to find a house with a flat garden?
Garages are another issue. In an ideal world, I’d have a large, heated garage, with a car ramp or inspection pit, large enough that even if I bought a London bus, it would fit comfortably inside. I’d want room to store a classic sports car over the winter too. I doubt I’ll ever own a Routemaster, but that’s not really the point.
I’ve always had problems with cars, never managing to find just the right one. Initially, I was grateful to have any old car at all because I was skint. Back then, my older brother earned a lot more, so he drove an impressive Ford Capri with a three-litre engine. By the time I got one myself, Capri buyers had moved on to something more fashionable. Later, I owned some fabulous cars, but the specific model I bought was never quite right. I purchased a big 4×4 and within weeks realised I should have chosen the dark interior. My kids would sit in the back, their little feet dangling and leaving shoe marks on the front seats. I haven’t actually done it yet, but I swore then that when they grew up and had cars of their own, I would travel in the back of theirs, bringing crisps, sweets, chocolate and drinks. I would crush the crisps and scatter sticky bits in the most inaccessible places, not just on the floor where they could easily be vacuumed. I’d hide the half-eaten sweets and spill my drink everywhere. I’d cover the tips of my fingers in chocolate before fiddling with the door handles and door controls. Naturally, I would smear my greasy hands on the window glass.
I’m lucky enough to have travelled to many far-flung places. Australia, America and Canada. I’ve been to India, Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. Although I enjoyed them all, I always felt I was missing something. In Africa, 30 years ago, we went on safari and saw elephant, rhino, zebra, giraffe, crocodile, monkey and wildebeest. We never caught even a glimpse of lion. And I’ve never stayed in the perfect hotel anywhere; something is always wrong. Even the perfect hire car eludes me. If I rent a boat, the sea state is never quite right.
For decades, I would buy clothes in America. I love the brands, and the prices over there are far more reasonable. I’ve not been over for a while so, last month, when I found myself in London’s West End with a few hours to spare, I went shopping, resolving to buy whatever caught my eye. Inevitably, I came away disappointed.
Two of the jackets bought in Liberty’s, I’m certain I’ll never wear.
That said, all this discontent pales into insignificance when I think about the way we’ve been governed. The people we elect to make the big decisions about our lives always get it wrong. Why do we keep allowing that to happen? I just can’t understand why Andy Burnham had a bounce in the latest opinion polls when we’re obviously heading towards financial meltdown. Burnham’s just another idiot PM, leading a cabinet full of utter incompetents.