The call of duty

Of course, people often ask why I would desert the city only to pursue something that is equally contentious. It appears that the two most loathed types right now are bankers and politicians. Isn’t it a case of, out of the frying pan into the fire?
I always point out however that my circumstances are markedly different to those of your average banker or politician. Let me make it clear: I did not bring my bank to the edge of the abyss one year ago. I left of my own accord and at the time of my choosing, and with a rather big pat on the back. Similarly I did not have any silly ideas in my head about escaping the rat race or pursuing an 'alternative lifestyle' - which as far as I can tell means shacking up with a couple of tarts and coming up with harebrained schemes to make money.
Oh no, I had made my pile for sure, and a pretty pile it was. But I simply decided that it was time to move on, to pastures new and all that. This meant that I could approach the whole political scene with a fresh eye, with an enviable bank balance, and with a genuine desire (for once) to give something back to the ‘community’.
I regularly stress that the reason politicians are so loathed right now is because they appear to be on the make. If it isn't filling their boots, it is gaining status, gaining influence (so that they can fill their boots some time in the future, a la revolving door.)
Well none of that for me. I would never pretend that plasma TVs and pornographic movies could count as expenses ‘incurred in performing ones duties as an MP’. Surely this would be as foolish as claiming that Madame Sadie of Shepherds Market could count as expenses ‘incurred in performing one duties’ etc… (If only!)
But the point is this: Even though I have a moat – and one that is essential for keeping nosey Mirror journalists at bay - I would, as sitting MP, insist on financing its upkeep out of my own pocket! And if only we had more people in the lower chamber with that kind of attitude, then the old place would be ship shape in no time.
That is why I am putting myself through this wretched selection process. And indeed, wretched it is. One day I am being awfully nice to ghastly home counties, four by four driving, little Englanders. The next I am in fits because this leftie Old Etonian, David Cameron, is considering imposing one of these daft all women shortlists on my target seat. Sometimes I wonder why I bother. But let’s face it; the party, the country desperately needs chaps like me.
And that is why I have decided to make the ultimate sacrifice, and find this safe Conservative seat before the next election, come hell or high water... whatever it takes.
I shall indeed let you know how I get on.
By guest blogger Burgoyne