. This is Zoltar..he is looking very well. I remember meeting him as a 10 year old in the very late 60s. He called out to me then as he makes me remember now. I think of Wilfred Earnest Hazlewood my grandfather who stood with me those fifty years ago. I was an imaginative 10 year old then as opposed to an imaginative 61 year old now.
I reflect on those 50 years and ask idle questions to my self. Who will stand before Zoltar in 50 years time? As the UK slips once more into a Xenophobic and Nationalistic mileau I wonder what my grandfather thought in 1969. Zoltar is a post modern late 60s creation yet the age we live in with its simplistic populism is more plastic and crass. I glance around the cafe I sit in on the end of Llandudno Pier and ask the question what will the next 50 years bring? Zoltar is silent on that question. This is the Age of Batten and Tommy Robinson perhaps Zoltar will be repatriated to a plastic pastiched internment camp. Perhaps Zoltar asks the question will socialism triumph? Who was Margaret Hodge? And what happened to 10 year old Martyn and 61 year old Martyn? Zoltar is quiet on that one .
For my Grandfather and Father I can do no other. In each generation the flame of tolerance and diversity must be maintained and the struggle must continue. As I reflect on my thoughts I see a physically disabled young man be helped out of the amusement arcade by his carer. A potential fate awaits us all brought by men of ontological insecurity and identical looks The potential road to the death camps always stand open this time by men with the perfect Arryan teeth and blonde hair who possess a strange likeness to Tommy Robinson. Renewed I leave the cafe to continue the struggle and as i pass Zoltar winks at me. No pasaran….the Sun bursts through the clouds and my darker thoughts are dissolved.. it’s time to return to the Socialist People’s Republic of Ystradgynlais tomorrow.