Listening to the reports on the Pope’s arrival on the radio yesterday, it was the Pope-mobile that was the main butt of criticism. Comments along the lines of: “Nothing restores your faith in God as much four inches of armour-plating.”
Which would be quite funny until you hear that a gang of street cleaners have been arrested on anti-terrorism charges this morning.
It will probably come to nothing and the taxpayer will be presented with a bill for false-imprisonment, but it did make me think about what a weird life it must be to have to always sit behind bulletproof glass.
Without wishing to state the obvious, it means that you live your life in public in the full expectation that someone is going to attempt to put a bullet through your skull.
The most I have to worry about is avoiding the chuggers, pigeon-droppings and civil enforcement officers (that’s traffic wardens in the real world). I’m not sure how I’d cope knowing that there might be a sniper’s crosshairs with my profile in it every hour of the day. It convinces me more and more that presidents, prime ministers and politicians the world over must be bonkers or gormless or possibly both.
Especially when there are snipers who can hit the target from one and a half miles away.