The Cheapening of #10

After the airport scare, the whole world knows that Tony Blair has arrived in Miami, a brief sun holiday for the Prime Minister. It's so dreadfully gloomy at 10 Downing Street, so who could blame the man? And Cherie has earned some time away, after all, and no one seems to be quibbling over the need to relax.

Conservative politicians are up in arms about the venue, not the general notion of Miami. It has been discovered that the Blair family has been comfortably ensconced in a very luxurious mansion overlooking the water. But that's not the bit that has resulted in accusations of "cheapening the premier's office."

Robin Gibb has provided accommodations for the Blairs. Yes, that Robin Gibb, the BeeGees own Robin Gibb, the man with the vibrant falsetto. Cheesy disco, spandex, the lot of it, and doesn't that just scream "cheap" to a Conservative MP. A definite element of white trash has touched on the Prime Minister's position, and it's unbearable to the opposition.

The MPs are hiding behind a facade of words, acting upset that Mr. Blair might be getting a free room that others would have to pay up to 60,000 euro per week to occupy. The Daily Mail calls it a "glitzy family holiday", a definite swipe at the old glitz that was personified in the BeeGees and their ilk.

Politicians are trying to equate this stay as a guest of Robin Gibb to the whole pay-to-be-knighted scandal that is currently under investigation. But who would expect Robin to invite the Blairs and then charge them to stay at his house? Who would be that rude? The dust-up is nothing more than a ruse to mask some Conservative bias against disco and their general dislike of The BeeGees and Saturday Night Fever. Those of us who can read between the lines can interpret the nasty sentiments being expressed by Conservatives trying to drum up support in the next election.

Look at that New Labour hack, friends with the likes of that dreadful disco star. That's what the politicians are really saying. Blair probably has a white disco suit hidden in his closet, they suggest, with their catty remarks about free vacations. The Prime Minister of England, can you believe it, the man representing the nation that gave the world Shakespeare and Milton and Dickens...he likes disco music. But they can't just come right out and say it. They'd look so snotty and upper-class twit-ish. Instead, they speak in upper-class code, trying to hide their true sentiments from the lower classes who will be casting ballots soon.

In spite of all their blathering, they're green with envy, longing for the glitz and glamor of South Beach and the party scene that Tony Blair is enjoying free of charge. These sorts of sun holidays don't come cheap.