Saturday, September 02, 2006

John Major: running away from the circus

It must be the best part of 40 years since I last went to the circus. But in my capacity as a Saturday dad, I've just spent the afternoon with the sprogs under the big top.

I wasn't the only leftie there, either. My six year old bumped into her mate Rosa, one of the countless Little Luxemburgs that have copped that moniker on account of their father's former adherence to Trotskyism. Rachie only narrowly avoided that fate herself.

And you know what? It was great. I enjoy every act, from the clowns and the high wire artistes to the French chick who juggled all kinds of things - some of them on fire! - with her feet, all while lying on the back of a motorbike. She kind of reminded me of a Trot having to justify a tricky new line at a hostile union meeting.

The experience irresistably brings to mind the life story of our former prime minister, John Major, whose father was famously a former travelling entertainer. Just how boring do you have to be to run away from the circus to work in a bank?

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