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Monday Diary; Cameron’s Schackleton Moment, ‘Naughty’ Ronnie And Lib Dem Landslides

Jo Phillips proves what a dedicated Hammer she is this week.

By Jo Phillips

13 Feb 2012, 09:00

Should he stay or should he go?

* I would be mightily surprised if elsewhere on these pages Andrew Lansley is named as Communicator of the Week. Or year come to that. Mr Lansley has been Heath Secretary since the election and shadowed that post in opposition so we must assume that the master plan for reorganising the NHS has been exercising his mind for a while. Not unreasonable then that one might have expected him by now to be able to articulate exactly what the plan is, and have worked out the rebuttals to those opposed to it. Clearly not. Which begs the question; if the combined efforts of government spin doctors, advisers, and civil servants are also unable to do what Mr Lansley’s failed to do, then the plan is fundamentally flawed.  Should the Prime Minister have a moment to gaze at the snowscape of Britain as we mark the centenary of Captain Scott’s ill fated polar expedition, he might ponder one chronicler of that tragic trip ; ‘ There is something that people value about the difficulty of getting somewhere rather than actually getting there.’ Mr Cameron must decide whether he is a Shackleton or Scott and consider whether retreat is more noble, wise and safe than ploughing on regardless. Unless of course, he’s hoping that the Health Secretary pops out of the next Cabinet meeting saying, ‘I may be some time.’

* Apparently, Ronnie O’Sullivan, the charismatic snooker star, ‘knows he’s been a naughty boy...and accepts the punishment’ according to his manager Django Fung. The punishment  was a driving ban after O’Sullivan was caught doing 100mph in a 30mph zone. Unbelievably selfish, stupid and potentially lethal would be how parents, pedestrians, cyclists and other motorists might describe that sort of driving rather than ‘naughty’. Driving during this wintry weather hasn’t been much fun and in fact I had a near miss with a couple of deer the other evening. (Their fault, no idea of  looking left and right before leaping out of the woods). Actually,  I’ve come to the conclusion that the comfort bubble of modern cars is partly to blame for bad driving; snug and warm, radio or CD playing, the car’s an extension of the living room. Judging by the number of half wits using their mobiles, the car has replaced telephone boxes too. It’s easy to forget that you need to drive differently in freezing fog on icy roads. Many years of old bangers and several beloved 2CVs were good grounding in adapting to the weather. You can’t beat a 2CV for handling on icy roads, but I can’t say I miss the lack of heating or wipers that gave a whole new meaning to ‘intermittent’.   

* Maybe not front page news but in the world outside Westminster (yes, there really is one) it’s interesting to note that the LibDems gained two seats from their coalition partners and one from Labour in local council by-elections. What’s more, one of the LibDem wins in Northamptonshire represented a 30% swing from the Tories. Small comfort for Nick Clegg perhaps when he’s lambasted on a daily basis by the massed ranks of the metropolitan media’s bien pensants, but nevertheless, significant for both him and Ed Milliband .

* An unusual encounter at the swimming pool this morning when a woman hopped out of a changing room on one bare foot and asked me to pull off her Wellington boot. It’s a bugger trying to get a boot off with a bare or be-socked foot and can reduce the toughest to sweat and near-tears of frustration, wriggling and writhing, hopping and huffing. I couldn’t help noticing the brand name of the brightly patterned boot which was obviously designed with fashionable summer festivals rather than winter practicality in mind. After tugging it off, I did suggest to the boot’s owner that the label might have been a clue that this range of footwear was probably aimed at people who had servants.

* I think I can safely claim the top prize for stupidity, having travelled all the way to Peterborough on Saturday to watch the town’s team play West Ham. When the ticket inspector remarked, just past Stevenage that the game had been postponed, it suddenly dawned on us that there was a notable absence of other claret and blue scarves and the usual boisterous optimism of travelling fans. Come to think of it, the rest of our party weren’t on the train but had failed to respond to calls or texts..........the game had indeed been postponed and somehow between radio stations, mobile phones and Kings Cross station we’d missed that news. Hey ho, never let it be said I’m not a loyal Hammer!