A LEADING politician called at my house one day during the latter stages of the summer and told my wife he’d like a word with me.

As it happened, I was out hacking away at the coalface in Hylton Road, so this momentous ideological exchange was obviously intended not to happen. In fact, this was the second time that I was elsewhere when this person called. I do hope the individual concerned doesn’t think that I was hiding under the bed when he or she knocked at the door – I have no problem with meeting my admirers and can always rustle up a cup of tea, even if Tightwad Enterprises does not extend to anything more than that.

Since that day, I have imagined how the conversation might have gone. Obviously, a political conversion would have been out of the question. I did my own particular St Paul on the road to Damascus routine some time ago, and I’m now probably beyond the reach of most people who would like to convince me that the status quo is worth preserving.

No, I would do a Desert Island Discs and tell my political worthy that if I had one request then it would be this. Would someone please engineer a situation whereby the Worcester riverside was made safe and pleasant for the majority of this city’s citizens?

Worcester City Council will soon be spending a vast sum of money tidying up the eastern bank and that would all be very commendable apart from one thing. I fail to see the point of creating an even nicer environment for the city’s thugs and lowlife to despoil.

Sadly, it has become patently obvious that the Worcester Establishment is concerned only with image rather than reality.

These people only drive, they never walk, so turning a blind eye to the squalor is fairly easy.

For aggressive drunks, dopesmokers and other assorted misfits can all be found down on the riverside. And before a nice middleclass New Labour voter tries to argue that it doesn’t do any harm, I say this – get out of your 4X4 and take a walk on the wild side for a change. The next time my politician calls, I’ll probably be out negotiating the urine stains near the Watergate.

And one day, this person might even take a look and see what I’ve so often written about.