One day, you're perfectly happy in your hedonistic world, where the most important thing in the universe is you . . . you . . . you. The next, you're joining a club where terms like "social responsibility" are part of the chit-chat.
This week, I have cancelled my membership to one of my favourite haunts in order to invest the extortionate amount of money I spent there in a more productive way. In response to five long years of soundbite government and policy by buzzword sans results, a friend has started a workshop-cum-forum for "creative thinkers" called the "Blue Sky Club". The objective of the group, so far numbering about 30, is to come up with clear, workable solutions to age-old problems, such as "Ways to make politics more attractive to young people", and the timeless "How can we help our politicians to make the world a better place?"
Sounds a bit like a coffee morning for MPs' wives, doesn't it?
Well, if being well-meaning yet determined to create change is a crime, then goddammit, we were all guilty last night. The guest list is an intriguing clue as to why the dinner meeting was different from the usual dry policy debates in Millbank offices. Lloyd Honeyghan, the former world welterweight boxing champion, talked enthusiastically about the need to keep all drugs illegal - not just the ones that middle-class people like me have failed to try. Young black men, he explained, need more understanding from the education system. Conversely, they also need a good hiding from just about everyone as well, "to sort the bad ones out from a young age". Beaten with belts and birch twigs, but with compassion and understanding. Now there's a sample of the sort of thinking this government would never dare admit to.
There were two young men from Demos present, who stayed very quiet throughout and watched as we enthusiastic "amateurs" did our best to create solid answers where their masters have so dramatically failed. I quizzed the younger of the two for his views on "How to stop crime" - and with a look of puzzled resignation, he sighed, in true new Labour style: "Coming up with answers is easy. Getting the questions right is what we're paid for." Hmm, so that's why the Third Way wasn't the answer to our prayers - it was just a question! As in, are we on the road to Damascus or is this the Third Way?
Excitingly, there was a smattering of young "stars" on the top table, to free our minds from uptight liberal thinking and take us all on a philosophical adventure. Narinda, from the second series of Big Brother (you have only one name when you're that famous), asked everyone to consider why it was that Brian (same rule applies) received more positive votes as the show's winner in the 18-25 age group than Tony Blair received to become Prime Minister.
Yells went up on their table: "Brian for PM! Brian for PM!"
I tried to see if Stephen Twigg, education minister, was joining in with the cheers. He was wearing his trademark wry smile and resisting the calls for a Big Brother contestant to replace the leader of his party.
One or two invitees took the questionnaire we had been handed on arrival seriously, and over the fine wines at Frederick's in Islington (famous for the Blair/Brown pact wrongly described as taking place at Granita), a warm feeling of humanity and concern for others began to grow. Trying to solve the world's problems after a big meal was fulfilling yet difficult. As Stephen Twigg put it, "I feel that an hour-and-twenty-minute discussion on these issues may not be enough time."
We reconvene in September: all non-cynics, "can do" types and ex-Big Brother contestants will be welcome.
