I’m getting old now. Despite looking out of a body that for the most part still thinks it is 30, I entered my 69th orbit of the sun a few weeks ago.
The good thing about that is that I could snuff it tomorrow knowing I’ve enjoyed a full and exciting life of ups and downs, with no complaint about being taken in my prime, and perhaps confirming that only the good die young.
That’s not to say that I’m resting on my laurels. The only laurels I ever had were for winning car races back in the day and I expect they’d be prickly at best.
Being elected MHK a year ago has reinvigorated my brain after 20 years of operating within my comfort zone.
Now I’m expected to understand to some extent a thousand issues, at least to the point of voting for or against a number of them.
But there’s also a sadness in my soul about the way the world is going – in my view, to hell in a handcart.
The sadness is because I realise there’s nothing much I can do or say to change that. I am constantly left flabbergasted by the latest political correctness or ‘woke’ ideology. Where the police seem to spend more time investigating claims of hate speech and pandering to minority groups than catching vandals and villains.
The Britain our parents fought and sacrificed for is now a soft touch for illegal ‘refugees’ who are siphoning up vast resources that should be spent on our own pensioners and disadvantaged. I’m not against immigration, but if not controlled it is actually an invasion of criminals seeking easy pickings.
Being old I remember the days of being able to make decisions for myself without the dreaded hand of Big Brother ‘nudging’ me to conform to the latest official wisdom.
We saw it years ago with the promotion of diesel cars. Then they realised they’d got it wrong so pulled the plug.
Speaking of which, I’m hoping they’ll do the same with this mad dash to electrification.
Finally people are speaking out against the brutal treatment of people mining cobalt and lithium for battery production, and the whole-life costs of electric rather than petrol cars.
Again, we’re being sold a pup – an expensive and less efficient solution designed to make the elites richer and the ordinary people poorer.
But don’t worry – the ‘Grand Plan’ will see you ditching your car and using the bus or a bike instead, all in the name of saving a planet that has a pretty good track record in saving itself.
I also remember with fondness an era when we DID things rather than talk about them.
It seems that the entire government and public service is predicated on meetings, reports, recommendations, consultations and reviews.
I used to joke about being elected benevolent dictator for life. Of course it could never happen, but imagine the changes we could effect if someone was prepared to stand up for what is right rather than what is popular.
I’d make a few mistakes (something no politician would ever admit) but at least we’d see progress instead of the relentless churning of the same old issues.
When’s the last time the Isle of Man did something innovative or ground-breaking? The Laxey Wheel?
I say these things to young people and they look at me as some sort of fossil who is completely out of touch with modern life. That’s fine as they’re the ones who will bear the consequences of modern living, where instant gratification is essential to mental wellbeing, young people play street games on their phones and the village idiot is often the loudest voice on Facebook or Twitter.
But I’m getting old now, so my aim is to do some good work for the next four years (if I’m spared).