The consensus of opinion at Cafe' Caffe was that, yeah, fine, Minister Tonio Fenech's jaunt to wherever to watch the Arsenal (of all teams) and those guys who think beach-balls are for serious soccer, was a bit of a misjudgement (to put it mildly) but, to quote Mr Tony Zarb, "that's enough, now".

Let's get the obvious out of the way: yes, looking back more in sorrow than in anger, it's a safe bet that Mr Fenech would rather, all things being equal, have opted to take a normal (free) flight, of which, like every other minister responsible for Air Malta since it was founded, he has a virtually unlimited supply, instead of the one he actually took.

He would still have got there virtually for nothing, and he'd still probably have got free tickets to the match (all ministers have to do is get the nearest Ambassador to ask, generally) and there wouldn't have been all this flack because he copped a lift on a private jet.

But do we really have to go on, and on, and on, about it? I know it's a week later still and that if people were bored last Monday, can you imagine what they are now? The thing is, due to travel commitments, I've had to put this together a bit earlier than usual, and the story of the moment is still the Gooner one, but the question remains valid: do we really have to keep on about this?

Virtually every columnist last Sunday, especially the ones who delight in expressing their adulation of Joseph Muscat and his squeaky-clean image, got onto her high horse and had a jolly good smirk at Mr Fenech's discomfort. There were a few who tried a different angle, but pretty much all over the shop, all Joe's Babes were having a right go at the minister.

And, frankly, one can't really blame them, it was a mis-step and to make it worse, it came from someone about whom, the consensus is, nothing really bad can be said. In fact, so much so is this the case that no-one who can be taken seriously as a commentator could bring him or herself to really dump on Mr Fenech. Leaving aside the people who slavishly and breathlessly parrot every utterance of Dr Muscat's, whether it be on FaceBook or in the real media, the general idea was that it was a pity that Mr Fenech had shown such poor judgement.

But the even more general consensus, as of last Monday, was "Now enough", and I suspect that quite a few people on the Labour side probably agree, since in the real world, as we all know, ministers, shadow ministers, prime ministers and wannabe prime ministers all have friends and all have fun sometimes. Dom Mintoff had quite some fun on yachts, for example, though no doubt my resurrecting that particular ghost of Xmas (Prime Ministerial Broadcasts) Past will no doubt earn me the opprobrium of Joe's Babes, if I might be allowed to refer to them twice in one column, who will chastise me for living in the past.

The thing is, if we forget the past, we're doomed to having someone make us live through it again.

Take, for instance, the utter mess Dr Muscat made of his so-called apology for Black Monday. He didn't have anything to apologise for personally, obviously, but what he did do, instead of simply saying that the event was a blot on Labour's copybook and leaving it at that, was to put it in such a mealy-mouthed way (no doubt in order to appease the hard-liners on whom he still has to rely) that he invited a strong reaction.

In other words, he asked for it and, verily, he got it: the Nationalists, who really don't have much excuse for continually invoking the past, were given the best of reasons to do it. Dr Muscat, acting on whose advice I really can't imagine, opened the door for a strong, and fully justified, reaction.

The standard Labour line about the violence of the '70s and '80s, i.e. that the poor, misguided workers were "provoked" by people who had an interest to destabilise, a line that is peddled even now by people who are way too young to know better (some of them even think Mr Mintoff was the best thing since sliced bread, believe it or not) was never too credible to begin with.

Dr Muscat's "apology" for Black Monday just brought the tawdriness of Old Labour's excuses for its past, excuses which still have to be trotted out now, because the "Soldiers of Steel" still have to be tolerated, into stark relief. Its violent past still haunts Labour, sadly for it and for the country.

Sorry for the lack of recommendations for nourishment, but we didn't go anywhere much this weekend, except for a rather fun barbie up North.

It was a private affair, though, so other than saluting the chef(s), I can't really go into details.

imbocca@gmail.com, www.timesofmalta.com/blogs