When I lived in Crewe, not much happened. That is the kind of place that it is, and the residents, by and large, are fairly happy with that state of affairs. It is the sort of place to which one goes in order to do nothing. To be inconspicuous, anonymous and not given to displays of public excess.
How things change!
When I was there, not once was there an occasion where the Leader of Her Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition was fellated by a high court judge in the town centre. At least during daylight.
In fact, I do not understand what has become of the good inhabitants of the town. Any suspicion of such behaviour would have resulted in political rejection in my day. I suppose that I must be getting old.
I shall not be watching the news on television or reading newspapers until after the next general election for fear of being presented with a picture of Mr Milliband being buggered by a squirrel or Norman Clegg of the Liberal Democrats being recognised by someone. It is more than my delicate constitution can tolerate.
When I lived there, most of the things that were done to offend the sensibilities of the locals were perpetrated by me or my friends. I did not last long.
I would not like to give the impression that Crewe was some backwater. Tom visited once, and found it much too exciting, and quickly returned to Talke Pits.
Without wishing to be over judgemental or hasty, it appears that Crewe has elected the sort of representative that it deserves.