Mutch's Diary
The Road's editor
To Lincolnshire. A cracking run up the M11 hitting an eye-watering 70mph on the straighter sections before turning off on to the A roads. Before long I was rumbling under an archway onto the cobbled courtyard of The Red Lion, Horncastle, venue of the East Midlands MAG AGM. A splendid meeting, after which I made myself comfortable at the home of ex P&O 3rd mate and Youth Bike organiser Tony Nightingale.
It has been a season for regional AGMs and before I knew it I was off to Pitlochry in Scotland for the Highland AGM. I took the train for this one as I had to be home on the Sunday night and I don't do dark, cold or fast., unless I'm on a 125mph train of course. I thoroughly recommend the 'Sporran of Plenty' in the The Moulin Inn plus the Highland Honey sponge cake and custard washed down with Braveheart draught.
I spend the morning walking briskly round the town and up to the Salmon ladder by the reservoir. Everywhere is beautiful, people say 'good morning,' there isn't a bit of litter and no-one threatens to knife me - surreal.
Suitably celticised I return to the Smoke only to be whisked off again for the East Midlands MAG AGM for which I am hosted by bearded biker legend Fergus in his house of talking decor. The flash of my camera activates a singing fish in the hallway which is joined in a chorus of discord by a rubber dinosaur warbling 'My Way.' Gyrating inflatable skeletons spangle before my eyes as I struggle through a gauntlet of gulping wine demi johns to a kitchen overflowing with miscellania. The Hagrid-esque form of Ferg in a black wig turns from a steaming slow cooker to offer me pasta in plenty. It is good.
It is my turn to play host as the Campaigns Manager is in town attending meetings with transport bods. We have a pint in the city's oldest pub, 'The Hoop and Grapes' to whet our palletes for curried nose bag in Brick Lane's oldest curry house, the Nazrul. We top off with mint tea in the Hookha Lounge before returning to the palatial acres of Mutch mansions where my guest is introduced to the grim options of washing in a saucepan or showering under the garden hose. My bathroom is full of Slavic builders as my home enjoys its first makeover in 15 years.
We set off next day for the flat lands of East Anglia and the offices of insurance brokers, Bikesure where we are joined by General Secretary Trevor Baird. I am enormously impressed by the can-do vitality of Bikesure's staff and their enthusiasm for promoting MAG to our mutual benefit. All the motorcycle section employees are encouraged to take CBT courses even if they are just answering phones, which bodes very well for the future in my eyes.
MAG has been undergoing a sustained whirlwind of change in recent months which I appreciate may arouse concerns with some. Be sure of one thing. Whatever imagery MAG employs to broaden its appeal and whatever relationships and tactics are employed to promote the organisation, our core philosophy remains like a rock in any storm. MAG increasingly operates in the core of the political sphere but we don't sell principles for popularity.
I am greatly encouraged by the growing wave of resentment against our health and safety compensation culture. Increasingly we find sentiments of frustration expressed in national newspapers. Even more significantly we find serious opposition politicians writing intentions about reversing the H&S culture into their manifestos. If the incumbents sense enough public empathy with those intentions they will mirror those policies in advance of a general election to neutralise a perceived political advantage they think their opponents might otherwise gain. Polarised party politics is largely history at this stage of our national evolution. Within certain limits parties craft policies to ensure they are elected as they all strive to occupy the middle ground of modern politics.
This background is good for pressure groups like our own which is politically neutral in a traditional party sense.
The fundamental principle that we defend is that some things in life are more dangerous than other things but that's life. We trade a little safety for a lot of pleasure and that is our right, or it should be.
Another train journey to talk to the Institute of Advanced Motorcyclists group in Harrogate. I order a tea from the buffet where the woman serving me puts the cup in a paper carrier bag. I abhor this ludicrous waste.
'Keep the bag' I tell her, 'I'm only sitting right there.'
'It's health and safety' she tells me tartly. I pay her and then take the tea out of the bag. She stiffens visibly.
'Will you take the bag? she asks.
'No' I tell her.
'Then you're not having the tea' she tells me and snatches it back. I fear our work is not yet done.
Ian 'GNER' Mutch
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