Are the winds of change blowing?

It was a really interesting Saturday, wasn’t it? Labour jumped with such glee and alacrity onto its own bandwagon, feeding off the general populace’s penchant towards envy and all-round aversion to perceiving anyone as being unfairly better off than them, and proposed a motion whining about sundry bundles of euros the Cabinet had voted for itself.

Or something on those lines, the whole thing being so, so boring to anyone who subscribes to the peanuts and monkeys theory of financial compensation. I have a problem with paying peanuts when I don’t want monkeys, though, to be honest, I’d have a larger problem with getting monkeys even though I don’t pay peanuts.

That wasn’t meant to be a dig at our esteemed ministers and their assorted sidekicks, who, while not being a platoon of supermen or women, are not entirely without merit at what they do. Perhaps a more secure grasp on the presentational skills required to communicate with us, the great unwashed, might not go amiss, so we’d have less opportunity to wonder about peanuts, monkeys and suchlike.

Labour’s motion was defeated because all the government members voted against it, despite the piling on of oodles of pressure by everyone with a mouth or pen available to do that little thing. There was much anticipation on the opposition side that a few Nationalist “wide boys” would go with the “ayes”, and not by mistake either, and there was consequently much disappointment when the eagerly awaited shaming of the Prime Minister didn’t actually go down as hoped.

The disappointment Labour’s tweeters and bloggers must have felt had a large machete twisted into their collective wound by that “so near and yet so far” feeling that surely accompanied their reading of the tea leaves liberally spread around Facebook and the rest of the social media.

I can’t imagine, though I’m having great fun trying, what Joseph Muscat and his not-so-merry men and women must have felt when they read about how Jeffrey Pullicino Orlando was contemplating going with Labour on this one or how Jesmond Mugliet was going to do the same thing but changed his mind.

I’m not too sure why Labour en masse was so hyped up about the notion that their motion would be passed.

To start with, while it would have been an embarrassment and a half to the government (like the whole sorry affair wasn’t cringe-making, to start with) it’s not as if this was something important, like a yacht marina and, to be going on with, it was pretty obvious from day one that party loyalty would triumph over grandstanding and self-aggran­dise­-ment, resulting in a crunching defeat of Labour’s motion.

Perhaps it was because this episode came right after the divorce farce, which must have contributed to the idea that Labour seem to have that the wind is set fair in their sails for a famous victory.

To be sure, given the economic situation and the Nationalist Party’s enthusiasm for shooting itself in the foot, it’s hardly surprising that Labour are on a high, but, as the man said, a week is a long time in politics, so can you imagine how long the next year and a half or whatever are going to feel for them?

We’re going to have that length of time, for instance, of MaltaToday reporting about how Lawrence Gonzi is backed up against the ropes while being pummelled by his backbenchers, while at the same time, Dr Gonzi is reported by other media outlets as having outflanked the snipers and come through with a smile on his face.

Oh, well, as long as it sells the papers, I suppose.

It was an interesting weekend for more enjoyable reasons, too. On Friday, we caught Red Electric at Xewkija. This is a band on the rise, make no mistake, and you should keep your eye on them: take a look at my Facebook page for some shots.

On Saturday, we went to the Victoria Arts Festival, as we did on Sunday and Tuesday – this is a six-week run of mainly classical music events that is put on for free and which is, quite honestly, a superb achievement, year in, year out.

Later on Saturday, we were at Żeppi’s in Qala for a gig by Tonna Plus and the Xalaturi, and if you haven’t heard of them, well, there’s a good reason for that. On Sunday we went to Otters in Marsalforn for a ska and reggae session by elements of Tribali, Fakawi and Nicky Bomba, which was superb.

On the nourishment side of enjoyment, there was Sicilian pizza and ice cream at the Calypso, Sunday lunch (four hours of it) at Qbajjar, Saturday lunch at the Oleander and a lightish supper at Ta’ Vestru. On Tuesday, we revisited Il-Panzier in Victoria after an absence of many years and it was really rather good.

Yes, I know, it sounds like we’ve been overdoing it, and we have been, but some weekends get like that. Be honest, you’d hate it if I didn’t shower you with good ideas about where to get some good grub.

imbocca@gmail.com

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