There was one Welsh politician I was gutted for on Friday morning and that was Glyn Davies AM. He is by common consensus the best politician blogger in Wales and he's a real character. The wretched list system let him down. Had the Tories not won the constituency seat of Carmarthen he would have made it back. Read THIS post on his blog which explains how he is getting over his defeat.
At the request of the family, I read a 'eulogy' at the funeral this afternoon, which took place in my local Berriew Church. There was a big congregation and I needed to get it right. I had to forget the pathetic self-pity I've been suffeering from since losing my Assembly seat on Thursday. For an hour or two the only thing that mattered was 'getting it right'. And then it got better. Over the sandwiches, almost the entire room seemed to be commiserating with me and begging/challenging/ordering me to stand against Lembit Opik in the next General Election. I felt the first green shoots of recovery emerge out of the oppressive blackness of electoral defeat - a bit like the first stirrings in the loin area after my bowel cancer operation.
I can't read my usual bloggers though, because Cairsey told me that they are littered with kind comments. Even Arsembly for God's sake. And there's another strange thing. I can't read nice comments without crying. Now, I'm no 'new man' on this issue. When I was young, real men didn't emote - until the brilliant yob, Gascoyne came along - the big girl. But since that 4 days on morphine, after the surgeon cut away my rectum, anus etc in 2002, I cry at the slightest provocation. My eyes go all misty and my voice goes squeaky and breaks up. If only I could control this like Blair does, it would be politically useful.
What a top man.