Why daffodil display bodes well for Labour
I DAILY record in my diary what amused me most. Take three days from the middle of this week...
Tuesday evening, and I happen to zap upon the TV channel Talking Pictures and a 1946 British thriller, Night Boat to Dublin. I catch this exchange between two fellows, presumably referring to another character in the film. First chap: “I’m a bit worried. My wife kept saying ‘No, Frank ... No, Frank!’ in her sleep, last night.” Second chap: “I wouldn’t worry about it. She kept saying no, didn’t she?” First chap, following a wee ponder: “You have a point.” I’m still chuckling.
On Thursday, a letter in the Guardian about nominative determinism, from a Jane Harding, made me smile: “How interesting that the minister for food is called Mark Spencer. I wonder where he does his food shopping.” I did google the name … check! (Mind you, that “Rishi” is an anagram of “Irish” also makes it!)
Oh yes, Wednesday, St-YouKnow-Who’s-Day. As previously mentioned, I only follow the news and politics at arm’s length, i.e. headlines only, just to keep in touch – hence having to search out Mark Spencer. Anyway, the television news lead story is the Matt Hancock/ Covid revelations, featuring an extended Prime Minister’s Questions exchange.
What captures my attention is not just Keir Starmer and his colleagues on the opposition front bench all sporting those eye-catching little daffodil buttonholes, but pretty much everyone on the opposition benches putting on a show of golden daffodils – yet hardly anyone on the Tory benches. Wow.
If subliminal messaging means anything, especially here in Wales, the Labour party are already 40-Love ahead for game, set and match for the next general election. As always, it’s those little things.
Huw Beynon Llandeilo