How Mo’s brave lie paid off

MO MOWLAM lied. She told everyone that her brain tumour was benign, that there was nothing to worry about, and took on the extremely delicate, tightrope-balancing act of Northern Ireland Secretary at a time when it needed the utmost tact and diplomacy.

It could have been disastrous – and it was quite possibly the effects of the brain tumour that made her take the risk in the first place and dismiss the sensible option.

But it worked. She took Stormont by storm, in turn shocking the upright uptight politicians and endearing herself to them. She was direct and informal to the point of crudeness and – once they’d got their breath back – people loved her for it. Well, most of them did.

There is no doubt that her highly unusual approach made a valuable contribution to the Good Friday agreement.

And in an age of increasingly identikit politicians – especially among the women – she came across as a real person, determined to do things her way.

It’s always a risky strategy, with or without a brain tumour. But sometimes we need a radically different way of doing things.

Think back to those well meaning but worthy charity appeals that usually succeeded only with those who would give money anyway. And then remember Band Aid and Bob Geldof standing up on TV saying “Give us your f****** money!” – and charity giving had changed in an instant.

In every walk of life, from politics, science, human rights and even WI calendars, there comes a time for a shake-up, a revolution.

For that we need mavericks, strong individuals, determined to the point of daftness, who make the rest of us shake our heads and suck our teeth nervously.

They’re the people who get things done. And Mo Mowlam was one of those. The lie paid off.

The real cost of marriage

WHAT with the Tories planning tax breaks for marriage, and now the growing trend for divorce parties with presents and even present lists to enable expartners to set up home again, marriage seems to be a bit of a win-win situation.

On the other hand, as the average wedding now costs around the average annual wage, it’s going to take an awful lot of tax breaks, towels and toasters to make it all worthwhile. In financial terms at least.

IVF at 59

THERE is something just not right about Sue Tollefsen’s bid to have a second child by IVF at the age of 59. If nothing else, it makes us feel uneasy – as well as wondering how on earth she’ll have the energy to cope with a baby in her 60s and a teenager in her 70s.

But it still doesn’t make me as uneasy as all those younger mothers who have babies that are neglected, ill-treated, abused and tortured. Remember Baby Peter? A recent report estimates that at least one child a week is killed by his or her parents.

When we’ve saved those lives, only then can we afford ourselves the luxury of turning our attention to mothers like Sue Tollefsen.

It’s not the much-wanted child we should be worrying about – but all those who are never wanted at all.

HAVING told the universities that they should lower their standards to recruit more students from state schools, the Government is now telling the professions that they too should recruit more state educated candidates.

Talk about the wrong way round...

We don’t want the professions and universities to lower their standards, what we want is for state schools to be so good, the education so outstanding, the students so dazzling that they will be snapped up be grateful employers.

That’s the way to give everyone an equal chance and ensure true social mobility.

But the Government can’t seem to grasp it. Maybe they went to the wrong schools.

A COLD-caller rang trying to sell me a kitchen – a rare occurrence as we’re signed up with the Telephone Preference Service.

“No thank you,” I said. “We had a new one fitted two years ago and we’re very pleased with it.”

“Thank you for your time,” said the caller, “And for your beautiful manners.”

An awful lot of people must have been very rude to him...

What a waste!

NORTH Yorkshire County Council has just sent us a 20 page questionnaire, complete with pretty maps and diagrams, on pavements, paths and bus shelters in Richmond and neighbouring villages, most of which are of absolutely no relevance to us at all. Yet they’ve sent us the details of 11 schemes and asked us to comment on all 11 – which I can do only from a state of extreme ignorance, so what good is that?

Goodness knows how much it has cost to print it and send it all out.

Couldn’t the interested parties just ring up for details instead of having them all sent out willy-nilly?

The next day, husband received a similarly large and impressive booklet from Business Link Yorkshire (funded by the Government, regional development agencies and local authorities). telling him that now is the ideal time to start his own business with the help of their workshops.

Now they might well know something that he doesn’t know, but as he is currently safely employed, why the communication? Have they written to everyone in the county trying to set them up in business. Why? And how much of my money have they used to do so?

We will soon be hearing how much our Council Tax will be for next year.

We won’t be surprised when it has gone up. The local authorities shouldn’t be surprised that we think there are ways in which they could easily cut some costs.

In the meantime, it’s just more bumf for the recycling bag.

Mamma’s boys

IF you’ve got a grown-up child back home again, relax. It could be worse – you could be Italian.

Well over half – 59 per cent – of Italians up aged 18 to 34 still live at home with doting mammas cooking their meals, doing their washing and making their beds, until the children are practically old enough to be grandparents themselves.

Now an Italian government minister is demanding a law to make children leave home at 18. If it works, you wonder who would be most upset – the helpless children having to make their own beds, or the equally helpless mammas, having to find lives of their own at last.

Nice abs, no sense of humour

OH dear, Cristiano Ronaldo in his underwear modelling for Armani looks mean, moody – and a bit of a twit.

He’s taking himself oh so seriously, which is tricky when you’re caught in your undercrackers, however well honed your abs.

If only he – and Beckham before him – had raised a smile at themselves, how we would all have been swept off our feet and rushed out to buy Armani for our chaps.

As it is, they’ll have to make do with M&S.