Feeling like a fish out of conference water
Well, that was weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Labour conference quite like it. Maybe other Progress readers can identify with this, but I felt naughty being there. Almost like I’d managed to blag my way into a pub I’m barred from while the landlord’s on holiday. Any second I expected a hand on my shoulder and a voice to say ‘you, out’. It’s an odd thing to feel an outsider in your own party. You’re left feeling disloyal but slightly bemused at how you’ve ended up in that position. Throwing lager at the problem didn’t really help, it just gave the week more jeopardy than it needed. Reflecting on it now, I probably should not have gone, but where’s the fun in that?
It’s the flashbacks that are the problem. I’ll be watching the news and a shadow cabinet minister will be giving a statement and, all of a sudden, I’m back there. At the end of the bar. Damp brow and loose lips going, ‘You’ve got to be joking, don’t say that in your speech, it sounds ridiculous. You what? You did just say it in your speech? Oh.’ Even writing this down I’m pulling my T-shirt over my face in horror remembering some of the stuff I came out with. Doing impressions of Ed around the bars probably wasn’t a good idea, although the lady on the other end of the phone was convinced she was chatting to the leader of the Labour party. Quite why he would have rung her up and talked at length about kebab and chips the night before his big speech didn’t seem to enter her mind.
The highlight of the leader’s speech was watching it in an Odeon, which seemed to be full of other like-minded rebellious types. Hoping for trailers was always optimistic. I half expected those deep, husky American tones to whisper ‘One Man. One Car. Eight Months. Chris Huhne stars in … The Shawshank LibDemtion’. At least I could gorge on Maltesers during the speech. It must be the only time when asked how the leader’s speech made me feel that I’ve replied: ‘full’. The speech didn’t turn me on, but I was catatonic from all the chocolate so maybe I wasn’t in the most receptive mood. It’s a good job I didn’t watch it in the hall. ‘If you’re just joining us on Sky News, the audience here in Brighton are loving every word of Ed Miliband’s speech, apart from one man who seems to be asking the person next to him where all the pick ‘n’ mix has gone. Is that chocolate round his mouth?’
Afterwards it was heartbreaking not being able to agree with the majority of people there who thought it an excellent speech. There should be a traffic light badge system like they have at those singles’ nights (that I’ve never been to. A mate told me about it) for occasions like this. Green means you’re looking for love, amber means you might be looking (fussy sods. Again, according to that mate I told you about) and red means you’re not interested, you’re just there to keep one of the single people company. That way you don’t offend people. Just give me a big red badge and then we don’t have to fall out. At least I’ll be wearing your favourite colour.
I felt bad when I got home that I hadn’t been inspired by the week. But that’s the nature of politics – sometimes your party fully reflects what you believe, other times it doesn’t. Conference is addictive, so in all likelihood I’ll be back next year but behaving a bit better. See you by the popcorn stand.
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Matt Forde is a stand-up comedian and talkSPORT presenter. He used to work for the Labour party www.mattforde.com
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