Don't get me wrong, I like a public holiday as much as the next man, especially if it falls just after my birthday or just after a weekend, so the more National Days we have, the better.

Whether this does much for productivity or the nation's general competitiveness, I suspect I know the answer, but at my advanced age, I can live with it. After all, if I can work on a holiday, as and when necessary, then so can anyone else whose labours and endeavours are required for the national weal.

This year, it has come to pass, we're going to be celebrating (I use "we" in the generic sense, I will be enjoying the holidays and celebrating the square root of not a heck of a lot) the fiftieth anniversary of Independence, the tenth anniversary of joining the EU, the thirty-fifth (I think) anniversary of something else and the something-elseth anniversary of yet another something.

The latter two somethings are Republic Day, when we switched from being a Constitutional Monarchy whose representative in Malta was Sir Anthony Mamo to a Constitutional (or perhaps less so) Republic whose first President was that self-same gentleman (and I mean that sincerely) Sir Anthony Mamo and Freedom Day, when the lease ran out and the Brits ran out as quickly.

The former of the latter two was achieved without a drop of blood being spilt and without much of a murmur, the Constitution already having had a coach and four driven through it to ensure that the votes fell right.

The latter of the latter two was achieved likewise without a drop of blood being spilt, the only potential injury was the whiplash that the PM at the time, Mintoff, Dominic of that ilk, almost got himself when he had to spin out of demanding that the Brits leave (at the end of the lease, mark you) to demanding that, well, someone does something about the fact that the Brits leaving meant that quite a nice revenue stream was leaving with them.

Clearly, the only two anniversaries really worth commemorating, to the extent that these things are commemorated amongst discerning folk, are Independence Day, without which the middle two couldn't have happened and EU Accession Day, when we took our rightful place in Europe despite Sant's Partnership having won the referendum (his words, not mine, don't forget to vote for him to become an MEP now, will you?) and despite our current PM's valiant efforts to persuade the voters that the EU was not for us.

Never one to let a good marketing opportunity spin into oblivion, the chap who tried to keep us out of the EU is now having a great time telling us all what a splendid round of bread and circuses his Government is going to put on so we, the people, can have a party or four.

The news that Brian (not James, he's the nerd who drives cars slowly) May will be wielding his axe on April 5, which is only close to any of the relevant dates by dint of the fact that it's in the same year as all of them (duh) was met with general approbation by rockers and rollers country-wide. I'm not entirely sure why this was so, as the dear chap is now firmly ensconced within the ranks of the establishment and is about as much a rocker as I am a Hell's Angel, but he'll put on a good show, no doubt, so more power to his elbow and all that.

I wonder whether he'll be standing on the Palace roof or on the Main Guard one, the one that used to be obscured, back in the day, by a very large slogan, in the original Arabic, encapsulating some bon mot of Gaddafi's. On the other hand, perhaps the Gensna Show will be put up on the roof and May will have to content himself with strutting his stuff at ground level.

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