It seems that Blair is floating just ahead of Michael Howard's tories. It seems that all the polls make the assumption that a Labour victory is certain, a sure bet. I'm happy with that, as long as it comes true.
I sense that each generation get's it's one amazing election. For left wing grandparents, parents and my generation it would have been 1945, 1964 and 1997 respectively. The evil sneering tory bastards had 1983 and 1992. If you are a Liberal male aged 120 or more you will still hold fond memories of Sir Henry Campbell Bannerman taking the keys of Number 10.
It seems that all the other elections are generally pretty dull affairs. I remember 1987 when I was just entering my earliest throes of ridiculously embarrased teenage socialism, I was sure that if only everyone in South Norfolk realised what Thatcher had done to the miners and how the evil tories supported aparthied and how mad Ronald Reagan was, then surely, surely? But no, South Norfolk was reliably conservative and bucked no trends that year.
I have to keep an eye on this one though, it's the quiet ones you have to watch.
Michael Howard talking up immigration, Blair boosting his economic record, Charles Kennedy blasting the decision to go to war. It should all be good stuff but with two cars in every home, nice vacations and home ownership at an all time high Brits seem content. Not one phonecall home to family or email from friends has mentioned the election, even the most politically astute seem rather blase' about the idea of a third term.
Wait, there is good news, the frighteningly right wing UKIP (UK independence party, running on a platform of leaving the European Union, akin to George Wallace and his State's rights) seems likely to either disapear without trace or, more probable, cripple the tories by cutting into a significant rightsided chunk of their vote.
Whatever happens I shall take advantage of the 5 hour time difference to spend the evening of May 5th by this trusty computer searching for results, checking my facts and swing-o-meters and glugging on some red wine, there's some sybolism there somewhere.