The Ground On Which I Stand

My father was blue collar through and through. He was born into a very poor family that lived in the Oving / North Marston area of Buckinghamshire. His toes were badly deformed due to having to wear hand me down shoes. Nothing came easy for him or his brothers, one of whom served time at her Majesty’s pleasure, whilst the other succumbed to the bottle and found his life brought to an abrupt halt further to wandering drunk into the path of an oncoming train. My father was good with numbers, and had wanted to be an accountant. Yet his father would not let him, instead forcing him to continue to work as a painter and decorator, a career from which he never managed to escape. He had his faults, but he had an admirable work ethic. He worked long, hard, and over the course of many years lifted his family out of what could easily have become poverty. I say all the above because I want you to understand the ground on which I stand. Put simply, I’m from a world where nothing is taken for granted. I have no sense of entitlement. The universe owes me neither happiness or wealth or long life. If I want anything to happen I take the view that I have to make it so. If I fail I own the failure. If I succeed, likewise. I’m Buckinghamshire born and bred; the classic country boy in any meaningful sense. Thanks to my hard working Father I had a stable and well fed childhood; we never missed a meal and never went to school in rags. I owe him much. Now taking all the above into account you might think my political views err towards the traditional working class. I’ve got Labour stamped all over me. Yet truth be told I’m more blue than red, although I would not say I align with any fixed political ideal. I know only that I have to take responsibility for my life; I recognise that having had children it is my responsibility to raise them and care for them and instill into them a sense of self worth. I don’t want benefits, a hand out, and I do not assume the powers that be owe me a thing. For good or ill I shall take care of all that. Or at least as much as it is within my power. Next month the nation once again goes to the polls as we elect a new government. None of the major parties speak for me. I find myself happily alienated from the whole carnival. For the first time ever I’m seriously considering not voting. I have no desire to support Labour, with their inability to balance budgets and culture of entitlement. And the Conservatives just seem plain mean, subsidizing the wealthy on the back of the working class. There’s just no sensible centrist voice that I can subscribe to. Everybody wants to shout the other down. So I think I might just sit this one out, and just do my best to stand or fall by my own hands. I’m just a working class lad who wants to pay his taxes, raise his kids, love his wife and do a little bit to make my own sphere of influence positive. That’s it. That’s the master plan. So I’m going to sit back and watch social media, suddenly awash with political commentary, reduce to all heat and light. Abuse, ridicule, sound bites. I want none of it. I’m simply not playing this game. I’m bored with it.