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Golden Voices - 13 June 2008

Josie Loftus
13/ 6/2008

LAST week I mentioned I’d started reading Cherie Blair’s autobiography and, having come to the end of it, it’s been an eye opener in more ways than one.

Contrary to how this piece might read as a ‘review’ it is, I hope, some small way of having the opportunity to say something nice about a woman who has been mercilessly denigrated since the day she appeared on the public platform as the wife of a future Prime Minister.

Most ‘autobiographies’ have been ‘ghosted’ by wordsmiths whose job it is to create an image of almost supernatural dimensions, which ironically the subject has neither the talent or the wit to live up to. This is not the case with Cherie Blair. This is one book you should not judge by its cover. What I mean is behind the face of the woman on the cover is a person of high intelligence, a true earth mother, a dutiful daughter and sister and most certainly – as the old adage goes – the great woman behind the great man.

Up to now the popular image of CB has been of a greedy, grasping, manipulating, off the wall woman who employed people to wheel and deal for her in order to gain and profit. Her critics have been relentless in their scathing and they did a good job. For no other reason than that I read all the reports which did their job and rubbed off on me as I waited for the next social blunder to add to the ever growing list; I did not like her.

And when I bought the book it was as much to endorse the image I had of her in my mind as it was to be able to pass on little bits of … gossip! (tut) by way of conversation with friends. The way in which she was portrayed in the film ‘The Queen’ (the dressing gown I would give anything for) didn’t help. It did her no favours and capped her as a raving anti-monarchist.

Having read all the bad press there has been about her and after reading her book, it is now hard to understand why certain power journalists have been so disparaging about a woman whose job as a trained barrister, and now a judge, is to be objective and fair and who without question invariably fights everyone else’s corner while being unable to defend herself against the knife throwers of the press. People like her who do not court publicity (for herself) and who – because of their position – cannot answer back or are denied the opportunity to put the record straight, are easy targets and used as cannon fodder for something to write about.

It would have been so easy for her to have dished out just a bit of revenge and to have gained great satisfaction at getting back at her critics. If she has (as some say she has), then I didn’t see it as I read her account of the way fate and destiny meted out what life has had in store for her. This is one woman who is well worth her salt and deserves to be proud of herself.

DID you know that 2008 has been proclaimed as the year of ‘The Granny State’? … no, neither did I. But it has, and Baroness Julia Neuberger, the eminent Rabbi, has been invited by Gordon Brown to be the champion of volunteers. It would be interesting to know if the Baroness has actually volunteered or is she being paid? But anyway, what the Baroness is really interested in achieving is inspiring the over 50s into becoming a power to be reckoned with.

She says she wants to start a ‘grey power movement’ and is hoping that a leader will emerge as a matter of course, who she will support but is not interested in leading the movement herself.

The Baroness has drawn up a ‘manifesto’ listing key demands for people to use as a sort of passport through their golden years:

• 1. Don’t make assumptions about my age (care and provision should be based on need and not age.)
• 2. Don’t waste my skills and experience (that older people should be appreciated in the workplace.)
• 3. Don’t take my pride away (financial independence without having to beg or fight for it)
• 4. Don’t trap me at home (better access to transport and more public toilets)
• 5. Don’t make me brain dead (Open access to education that’s geared to fulfilment)
• 6. Don’t force me into a care home (wanting to live in one’s home should be supported)
• 7. Don’t treat those who look after me like rubbish (carers should be properly trained and rewarded)
• 8. Don’t treat me like I’m not worth repairing (I’m worthy of health care)
• 9. Don’t treat my death as meaningless (having the right to effective pain relief and a good death)
• 10. Don’t assume I’m not enjoying life (celebrate my achievements, my wisdom and do not ignore me).

Right then! That’s until another thinker comes along and rearranges all the above and spouts on about it as others have for the past 40 years or so. But seriously, wouldn’t it be a real achievement for a grey power to see this manifesto as being a bill of rights for a grossly undervalued section of the community.

Do you remember when the ‘Twist’ first emerged on the dancefloors, I think it was about 1961? It was Chubby Checker who said he was drying himself after having a shower and as he tried to dry his back by holding the towel behind him he just kept twisting his body from side to side and hey presto! The Twist was born.

Erm … not so … he’s telling porkies. Last week was my birthday and one of my presents was a boxed collection of classic movies. One of the films was ‘All I Desire’ with Barbara Stanwyck, in which she plays the part of a young starstruck mother who has left her husband and three young children to follow her dream and become a famous actress. It doesn’t happen but her children and the town where they live don’t know that and when she returns at her daughter's request for her graduation, she is treated like the star she wanted to be.

Anyway, during the graduation party she dances with all the young men who are adoring her. Now I’m saying dancing but whatever movement they were doing, it was strange to say the least and looked excruciatingly clumsy. It was very energetic, a bit like the kick dancing they do today only not as attractive or as clever.

Anyway, guess what? The finale of this dance was … The Twist. There they were going round and round and up and down just like we did, so Chubby Checker didn’t discover it.