Last Friday I witnessed a truly momentous event take place, right before my eyes. Everyone I know agrees the right decision was made.
I was way down south when it happened – that life-changing moment that meant so much to those involved, and alters the course of their future. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, though. This was an amazing, special, event.Maybe not once-in-a-lifetime, but a decision like this one isn’t to be taken lightly, and requires years of planning and preparation.
This formal process saw the decision we all wanted – unity. A relationship built on trust, mutual benefit, shared experiences and friendship is something that takes a long time to perfect. When the time is right, and you know you want to stay together, you need a large group of people to participate to make it happen.
Of course, you need love, too. And only when... What? I’m talking about our friends’ wedding last Friday. Did you think I... no. Surely not. Brexit was certainly unavoidable, though. From the 4.40am alarm clock cacophony, Twitter kept me updated with what was going on, whilst we travelled towards Hampshire for the lunchtime ceremony.
Somewhere around the time I was struggling to get into my posh trousers in the loo at Southampton railway station without touching the floor, David Cameron was announcing his departure as PM. And whilst the lovely registry office ceremony saw our friends joining together, our lengthy love-hate relationship with the European Union was heading for divorce, and trying to figure out who should get custody of Boris the Labrador.
Travelling home on Sunday was also fascinating. Every clickety-clack of the wheels on the track seemed to coincide with another Labour MP resigning. Any honeymoon period for Jeremy Corbyn must seem a very long time ago now. The newlyweds have headed off on their own honeymoon.
Long-time partners EU & UK are now in that awkward bit where they’ve agreed to split up, announced it to all their mates, but haven’t filed the divorce paperwork yet and still have to live together. Quite a lot of people are saying it’s not too late. “Don’t split up – give it another go! You can still make this work!” they shout, whilst the miserable pair look on in dismay, and ask them quietly not to say that in front of the kids.
Still, if I’ve learnt anything from this whole experience, it’s that you shouldn’t underestimate what the older generation will do. They’ve been around long enough to remember how things used to be, and when push comes to shove, they stand together. Our friends were both getting married for the 2nd time, so the guests were mostly older.
For that reason, I was the only bloke at the wedding wearing blue trousers and an open-necked, floral patterned, shirt. Every other gentleman there had a shirt (sober-variety), tie (sensible) and jacket (50 shades of beige) on.
It is easy to make a decision that you regret later. Who’d have guessed?
This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 1st of July 2016, where it was retitled as 'Decision was the right move'.
Until I thought of the far superior title, this one was actually called "Staying together works". Not quite sure why it too me so long to realise 'Stronger together' was better, but hey. I was tired. So bite me.
(Another pause in the CD A-Z for a new arrival by They Might Be Giants, the supremely cheery "Why?" from last year.)
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