Zeppi is all for Labour. Whatever a Labour government does is ok by him. He may or may not write in the newspapers to praise it but under Labour it is always Sunday for him. Until, of course, the day comes when he might need a favour and perhaps it is not given. Then he will likely break with Labour, even if only by not going to vote.

Iz-Zepp is, on the other hand, all for the Opposition, even weak and fractured as it is at present. Whatever the government does is not satisfactory for him - if it’s a pay rise it’s not enough, if it’s a new health service, it’s about time it was given, and he wishes it were better. He cannot ask for favours from the Opposition - it is not in any position to do anyone any favours - so the vote for the Opposition is safe from his ire, for the present.

Just what makes us fawn on our political leaders? Why do most of us show such servility? I mean, there are even people who owe no favours and who are blindly loyal to one or the other of the two parties. Some quietly so, others quite publicly.

After all, come election time, the political parties would have to run after us anyway, so why be such lackeys to them.

To be fair, the parties fawn on us in turn. Just consider the budgets delivered by the Labour Party, for instance. The Nationalist Party was never as open handed. Of course one party leader must outdo his predecessor, so we have today what we have.

Perhaps that’s why Nationalist leaders are so tight fisted. I imagine they do not want to be embroiled in such contests. Labour is at present caught in an orgy of generosity, which might one day lead them to strangulation. We have yet to see.

It makes me think of the coming US mid-term elections, where there are also electors who vote with blind loyalty – but how anyone can vote Republican after Donald Trump’s presidency and the January 6 events, which shamed the US before the world, is beyond me.

I was in the US in 1984 for the last weeks of Ronald Reagan’s re-election campaign. In Arkansas, Reagan, also a Republican (it is only since Trump that to be Republican has become unsavoury) had a meeting with electors, in a cavernous hotel garage.

There were long queues of people from all directions leading to the venue, all queuing to go in. I think everyone was admitted who wanted it. The thousands were keen to be there, but definitely not out of adulation – in spite of Reagan’s (the Gipper’s) popularity.

For instance, there must have been Democrats too who were present and who would vote for Reagan’s political rival, Walter Mondale. I would say that most of those who were there were driven by curiosity, because for most of them it would probably be the only chance they would ever get to see their President in the flesh.

It is not so here, of course. Here we can take a bus to wherever Robert Abela or Bernard Grech may be going to speak, and be back home in time for lunch.

But for a voter in, say, New York to go to Arkansas it would mean travelling 2,000 kms – by air, train or bus - which likely would mean taking leave off work. I don’t know if any American is that keen to see their President. There is more than enough of him on television anyway.

It is nice also to be able to have a holiday in one’s own country, where the many kilometres of distance bring a change of scene, of newness, but also of weather and, I suppose, in the way of life. I can’t understand why there are those in Malta who have a caravan, for a few weeks away from home, 20 or 30 kms away.

In Arkansas I had dinner with an American family. I was supposed to go in informal garb, but found I had nothing informal in my travel case. The family were excited, because the daughter, a school child, was going on a school trip to far-away New York. Perhaps it would be the only time in her lifetime when she would see the city that never sleeps. The distances involved excite or overwhelm those who know what travelling them involves.

We discussed politics at dinner, but no strongly held opinions were expressed. The family I was with were Democrats, I knew that from what I had been told, not from our talk.

I think it was in Arkansas that there was a tornado warning as we were travelling somewhere in a van. I was surprised at the looks of concern on the faces of those in the party who were showing us around. I was not as concerned, never having been caught in a tornado, but our guides were very relieved when we arrived at some building where it would be safe. As it happened the tornado warning was cancelled after a short time.

It is difficult, in a small country, to comprehend what such distances mean, unless of course one has travelled extensively. One of the longest distances in the US is New York to Seattle, which I travelled. Over 4,500 kms. That length of land is longer than it is to fly Malta-London, which is about 2,850 kms. It takes over five hours to travel to Seattle from New York, and just over three hours to travel from here to London.

The flight back to New York was eventful, for me. Along the way, I was given a shock when a military jet thundered past us at what I thought was a very close distance, level with us in height too, I thought. It was so close. It was only a few seconds in sight, together with its companion, shrieking its speed just below us. They dissolved in the distance. I don’t know if that encounter can be considered a near miss. Perhaps frightened surprise made me see more than was involved.

I have also known Australia, an island like us, only it is the largest island in the world. I remember one Sunday evening in Sydney, when because of nose bleeds I could not go to evening Mass. So I stayed home, playing music. The phone rang, the caller asking for James, my son. He is at Mass I said. I would like to talk to him, she said, I am his aunt. And I am his father, I replied. It was my sister phoning from Melbourne, where she was on holiday from Malta.

When I told James that my sister had phoned from Melbourne, he just said, Shall we visit her there. He had got used to distances. His mechanic’s work took him everywhere for one. And he and his mates hunted rabbits and hogs on a farmer’s property, hundreds of kms away. The 900 kms or so to Melbourne were just round the corner for him. I declined.

In Sydney travel novelties were not uncommon either. I was once going to Sydney by the Rivercat, from Parramatta. There was a school group led by teachers travelling with us. At one point, one of the teachers told them, ‘’look ahead, boys, when we go round the bend we shall see what we shall see’’.
The bend was navigated and lo and behold, Sydney harbour bridge was in our sight. They all clapped. We see the harbour bridge so often here on postcards, it somehow seems as though it is with us. For the boys, it was the first time they were seeing the world’s largest clothes hanger.

Distances used also to feature quite frequently in the old Western movies, where there was only a horse or buggy to ride to any destination. Distances were not favourably thought of. For instance, ‘’They would just come after us. Four of them. We would be all alone in the prairie. It is 100 miles. We would never be able to keep the store’’ - newly married Marshal Kane to his bride, High Noon, 1952.

Or, ‘’That's the trouble with this country. There ain't a marshal within a 100 mile ride’’ - homesteader, Shane, 1953.

And ‘’The law is three days' ride from here’’ - homesteader, Shane, 1953.

‘’This country is as big as the sea Jim, and offers a man the same challenge’’ - ranch owner to his intended son in law, The Big Country, 1958.

‘’The nearest law is at the county seat, 200 miles away. You can't call a policeman here, you have to be your own law’’ - ranch owner, The Big Country, 1958.

For the President of the US, of course, distances today are not a problem. Time is. Except for travel exhaustion, at election or any other time - he has his Jumbo jet. Air Force One it is called, I think. With bedroom facilities I suppose – I have not been on one, so I do not know. Google would probably tell me, but I am not that curious.

I imagine President Biden had the linen changed, perhaps the plane too, when he took over after the foul-mouthed, sore loser, Donald Trump.