Last two elections, I've had to prod myself to vote. And yet I remember so vividly that Glorious Night back in 1997 when we finally ditched the Tories and surged to victory.
I spent the early evening at chamber choir practice (yes, really) singing Montiverdi's Beatus Vir with the most amazing, zinging energy ringing out from us all. And then I went to a party and got monstrously drunk on champagne and snogged half my neighbours and fell asleep before Portillo and woke up a couple of hours later to a miraculously transformed landscape totally unlike anything I'd known throughout my entire adult life (I was 16 when Thatch got in).
Heady stuff. And just look at us now