Happy New Year, George.

Dear George Osborne,

I write to you knee deep in receipts and invoices, as I should really be making sure everything is in order. My tax return is due at the end of the month and I know just how much you need my money for schools, roads and bedpans at Salford Royal. So far I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid your overly complicated online process (that’s another blog, for another time) and have spent the last three hours searching the deep, dark corners of the web for an escape route… and boy did I find one.

On my travels I came across endless footage of babies laughing at thin air, cats making noises (very) vaguely resembling that of a human and dogs driving 4X4s. I smirked, I chucked and I even thought the driving dog was mildly amusing. Then I discovered something that made my eyes fill with some strange liquid. They didn’t do so in sadness but in joy. In joy at discovering something that could warm even the coldest of hearts, like yours George, in a way that a dribbling baby video could only dream of.

A guy called Matt. Matt and his wife took a camera on their travels and filmed him dancing with people from every corner of the globe, (made without a commercial sponsor, so they say. I’m not sure how but I’ll leave the big financial questions to you, George). It seems they have made a few over the years, but it appears to have escaped me until now.

Don’t worry Salford Royal, you’ll get your bedpans, but first lets take a moment, if only briefly, to at least entertain the fact that the world might be able to dance together; rich and the poor, old and the young, black and the white, the east and the west. Free of prejudice, judgment, hatred and bigotry. Free, in dance.

Happy New Year, George.

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By Darryl Morris

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