Bridport: From Mountfield to the Bunker

I WAS thinking about Bridport Town Council the other day, well, to be honest, I seldom think of anything else. Unless it’s beer.

Anyway my mind strayed from that august body and homed in, like a guided missile, on David Cameron, Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun, as it would of course.

The news, that in these straitened times, when we’ve all got to share the pain and take a bit of a knock in the pocket, the news that Big Dave has appointed his own photographer, one Andrew Parsons, who will get his bunts out of the public purse, came as a bit of a stunner to me.

Adolf Hitler, a man who has not been generally held in high regard of late, also had his own photographer, a chap named Heinrich Hoffman. It was through his smudge boy that old Adolf met his own little Eva, not the one that sang The Locomotion, of course, but the one who joined the old reprobate in the bunker.

That, unerringly, led me to wonder if any members of our assembly of buffoons in the town hall might be considering a similar move, simply to assure their rightful place in history of course.

Well there might be one. A person not exactly averse to a bit of the old publicity, who has a head jam-packed with quotes just waiting to be popped out at the opening of a notepad and sharpening of a pencil.

Now I am not for one moment suggesting the leaders of our fair town have secret plans to start burning books, holding torchlight processions in months other than August or marching on Poland. Heaven forbid – they’d never be up to any of it!

Still this desire to see one’s own image reproduced everywhere often ends in tears.

It starts with trying to get yourself in the local press and before you know it, you’re claiming that the peoples of Chideock are Bridportians at heart and then holding an anschluss. Let’s not go there councillors, the quiet life is best I always find.