Monday
Life skills you never knew you had. A little while ago I met a friend for lunch in a central London restaurant. It was all about as normal as any meal out can be. After ordering our food we proceeded to catch up on each other’s weeks. How the government was doing, what friends were up to and what we had been reading and watching on TV.
Then while we were eating, I noticed my friend appeared to be coughing. I stopped what I was saying to give him time to recover. Only he didn’t and it rapidly became apparent that he was struggling for breath. His face had changed colour and he was starting to dribble from his mouth. At which point, I realised that he was choking. I looked around the restaurant hoping that someone else had noticed. Hoping there might be a doctor present. No one – not even the staff – showed any interest.
I could feel myself start to panic. I had no life-saving training at all. But if I did nothing, my friend might die. It felt surreal. Dream like. Then my own body went into autopilot. I found myself telling my friend I was going to give him the Heimlich manoeuvre. Even though all I knew about it had come from reading about other people performing it. I was winging it. Hoping for the best, I picked him up from his chair, stood beside him and let my hands search for the soft spot just below the rib cage. And gave a firm squeeze. I didn’t detect a piece of chicken fly out of his mouth, but moments later his chest heaved and he started breathing more normally again.
I have no idea if my actions made a difference and whether he would have cleared his airway anyway. Weirdly, everyone in the restaurant just continued eating. My friend and I just sat down and resumed our meal, embarrassed to have caused a scene. If it was a near-death experience, it had been a very British one.
Tuesday
Never say never and all that. Given the rate of churn within the current Tory party you can never entirely rule out a return, but for now at least the political careers of two senior Conservative MPs appear to be at end. First to go this week – not with a bang but with a whimper – was Jeremy Hunt.
On a human level, I always had a soft spot for Jezza as he always appeared to be so transparently out of his depth. Not waving but drowning. He was only appointed chancellor after Kwasi Kwarteng crashed and burned the economy because he looked like the only plausible option. A man with no financial brain but who somehow looked right in the job. He made his last speaking appearance in the Commons during Treasury questions. You couldn’t miss the pathos. He was desperate to mark the occasion with a dignified exit. Rachel Reeves merely reminded him that he was the man responsible for the £22bn hole in the country’s finances. I had seldom seen Jezza looking so crushed.
Next to go the following day was Rishi Sunak. His was more of a spirited exit. One to remind the Tories of what they were missing. After some rather tender exchanges with Keir Starmer at prime minister’s questions – a reminder that politicians can be quite nice to one another when they want to be – he went on the attack in his reply to Reeves’s budget speech. More a rant. Mostly sound and fury signifying nothing. He wasn’t helped by having Hunt sit next to him. Throughout the budget, Jezza had said almost nothing to help Rishi but now he passed him a note saying the Office for Budget Responsibility had let him off the hook over the financial black hole. It hadn’t. But so sweet of Jezza to remain on brand to the end. His final act to get something wrong again.
Wednesday
Just how much TV can anyone be expected to watch? I ask because I can’t really get to grips with the economics of the TV networks and streaming services. More and more providers churning out more and more expensive content that could only possibly be watched if every household had countless TV’s all tuned to different networks and stations. I like to think I put the TV hours in, but clearly I am an amateur. Many friends whose judgment I respect have raved about Rivals. I don’t have the energy and can’t bear the thought of stumping up for yet another monthly subscription. I’m far too disorganised to remember to unsubscribe after a free month’s trial and a quick glance at the content tells me there’s nothing else on Disney+ that I would want to watch.
Same goes for Paramount+. Nothing there for me. I began with just three subscriptions – to Sky, Amazon Prime and Netflix – but a year ago I reluctantly signed up to Apple TV because I wanted to watch Slow Horses and Masters of the Air. But since racing through those series – both brilliant – it’s been a law of diminishing returns.
Thursday
A new survey has revealed that nearly one in 10 people working from home have taken to having the odd nap in the afternoon. To which the only observation is: that few? I suspect that not all the respondents were entirely honest. I’ve certainly had the odd nap on company time. There again, I’ve frequently worked far later and for far longer than a notional 40-hour week so I like to think my bosses are getting value for money.
In any case, a 20-minute power nap – or sleep as some of us call it – can often be beneficial. Far better to have a brief snooze and wake up refreshed than to struggle through an entire afternoon trying to keep yourself awake with endless cups of tea. Years back, when I was a freelancer, I’d often have an afternoon doze and when I started working from home during lockdown I found myself reverting to old habits. Often when I woke up I’d find I had thought a way through a political sketch with which I had been struggling. Win win. I mean, we’re not talking of going to bed and taking the entire afternoon off here.
Rather than costing companies billions of pounds a year in sleep, surely there has to be some sort of cost benefit – in staff morale and mental and physical health. Besides if companies are looking to make efficiency savings, they would be better off cutting back on the number of pointless meetings they have. Sometimes there are meetings to discuss meetings. If you want something done, then ask someone who is having a snooze.
Friday
Even the Tory party hasn’t taken much interest in the Conservative leadership race. Early reports suggest that turnout in the ballot of members has been low. Neither candidate has exactly gone out of their way to win hearts and minds. Honest Bob has been on quite the journey. Ten years ago he was a wetter than wet Remainer Cameroon. Now he’s a dog-whistle rightwinger who wouldn’t be out of place in Reform. He has even threatened to expel any MP from the party who doesn’t support leaving the European convention on human rights. Bob, do the maths. There’s only 121 Tory MPs. Kick out the moderates and the Lib Dems will become the official opposition. Then there’s KemiKaze, the ultimate populist. At least there’s something authentic about her, but she is delusional. She’s spent much of the past week denying saying a whole lot of stuff about Jenrick’s impropriety, maternity pay and the civil service for which there are recordings.
Whoever is named the winner shortly after 11am on Saturday, you can’t help feeling they will be gone within a couple of years and the Conservatives will have to repeat the process. The Labour party may have had a tough week with the budget, but at least it doesn’t have to worry about the Tories.
Taking the Lead by John Crace is published by Little, Brown (£18.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
