The first day of May. I just went out to vote. Walking to the pavement, the suburban stones, the municipal world where Londoners come and go up and down the hill. I was transported in a way to the 1990s, the 1980s, by the nature of a polling day, those days of church halls and community centres, requisitioned schools and black and white signs; spaces given over to civic-minded people, usually black people in my experience, who work to make it work, and probably have their own hopes which properly go unvoiced. The streets reminded me of the old posters of the GLC days: black and white uniting, everyone dancing around green gardens, Greenwich: A Nuclear Free Zone. And part of the sadness of today is that, in the most stupid, pointless and shameful way, it could represent the final end (for there have been other ends) of that era, in one personal sense. Not to say that its political legacy is over: perhaps its political legacy is around us now, and will not be stopped. I went looking for the polling station, found it down the backstreets, beside a church; a wheelchair struggling up a ramp. The world of the polling station reminds me of what Larkin found in 'Church Going': temporary importance, borrowed seriousness; a world pausing and behaving responsibly. I actually paused while casting my votes, wondered what to do, which form to mark first. I settled on the Mayor, nervily savoured the two arms of the cross beside Ken Livingstone's name; decided to add the Green in second. (Please don't write in to tell me this is a pointless gesture.) I'd heard the lovely Sian Berry calling for Green votes on the peach form, and this actually swayed me now: recognizing the form, I decided to paint it Green. For the local member, stick with Labour's Len Duvall, a chubby face I'd recognize. Slide them all into the box at once and walk away, into the city tilting on its axis, teetering on its heels. My other memory was of 2000, when Ken first stood - I wrote a sinister post on the occasion of the first anniversary of that victory, I think. May 2000, the era of 'Legal Man' and the vast Sainsbury's at New Cross Gate; of April Dreams England bewilderingly new, hard to imagine now. That is how long Ken Livingstone has been Mayor of London. I suppose they were good years - well, they were better years than they would have been had his rivals won in 2000 and 2004. I am glad that he has been the first elected Mayor of London - I once thought that four years would be enough. Maybe eight years is enough, and I will have to live without twelve. The alternative, though - I will not now talk of the alternative. But yes, 2000: and I thought of picnics, and remembered the 1998 picnic, which thanks to Rachel and Grainne's attention is being properly commemorated on Saturday. I think of that 4.5.1998 picnic as one of life's pivotal days. We have talked about many reasons why, over the years. I think it is ten years tonight since I first met Steady Mike, glancingly, at the end of a Blue Soda - but better call it ten years since the 4th May, when I first properly talked to him. Ten years of sinister, last year, did not move me so much, for I was not involved in sinister in 1997. Eight years of Ken Livingstone, that means a lot. But ten years of Steady Mike! Who could have dreamed that up? The pleasure, the privilege is mine. ____________________________________________________________________________________ Be a better friend, newshound, and know-it-all with Yahoo! Mobile. Try it now. http://mobile.yahoo.com/;_ylt=Ahu06i62sR8HDtDypao8Wcj9tAcJ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+