Day 10: Wotton to Guildford

Another vast switchback walk mainly over  styles through National Trust woodland,  skirting the railway line towards Gomshall; then through Sheer, passing numerous red stone “Pillboxes” from WW2, used apparently by the likes of Captain Mainwaring of Dad’s army, hastily designed in 1940 to frighten away the Germans when they invaded.  Magnificent views and easy going.

Then through the outskirts of Guildford from where we crawled ever upwards towards the magnificent Cathedral, nestling  so as to address God on an equal footing, with both hiding in the clouds.

The New Me

I can’t go on like this – I’ve pressed my personal reset button. For many years, I’ve been seriously disadvantaged by the fact that I’m essentially boring: a white, married, heterosexual male. I’m privately educated, a former Guards officer and a former Conservative MP. To make matters worse, I’ve been married to the same woman for half a century and I’m Father to four happily married children.

So far, no one in the family has been sentenced to jail and I’m known to be something of a Bible basher. So in terms of identity politics, I’m the invisible man on the train, a dinosaur, a man of no special interest to anyone: too old to work yet too young to die. My opinions will never be sought by the media, nor will I ever be targeted by political pollsters. If I was ever caught doing something illegal, I’d be unable to pull the race card. No political party will want to add me to their lists for virtue-signalling purposes and to prove how multi-racial and inclusive of minorities they are.

Minus 20

So now I’m embracing radical change. It’s been growing on me for years. To be honest, it’s been a vast struggle, for I’ve felt very young inside myself all of this time. And I feel far friskier than others in their mid-seventies too, so there!

Of course, I am not alone in coming out of my age closet. Dutchman Emile Ratelband, 69, claims to feel like a young god of 49. The doctors agree he has the constitution of a much younger guy, so Ratelband has been trawling through the Dutch courts to change his legal birthdate from 1949 to 1969.

Ratelband claims that a man who identifies as a woman can claim a new birth certificate stating he is now a she. So why on earth can’t he wipe 20 years off his life to enable him to get a better job and be able to chase women on Tinder – who regard all over-55s as more or less dead?

So, for me, it’s “farewell 1942”, hello “brave new 1962”. Whee, I feel better already. 

All or Nothing

But hang on. Now I’m thinking, why not go the whole hog? Today’s accepted consensus is that biological sex is not real but merely a social construct. This reasoning has swept through liberal US university campuses into the political mainstream and is now accepted wisdom in the UK too. Let me be clear: activists demand that anyone who says she is a woman is entitled to a document stating she was born biologically female even if everyone else knows she is a man and he (or she) has a willy (sorry about that).

Of course, I agree. So I’m now a woman and available to be chased by men on Tinder. And, if you can change your age and gender, why not your race? In the US, a white woman called Rachel Dolezal claims to be black and says she has suffered racial injustice. I can identify with this for I have felt black inside myself for years. Someone called Anthony Lennon – who was apparently mixed race – has popped a Nigerian middle name “Ekundayo” into his full name in order to convince people he is black. I propose to copy this excellent idea.

I’m now Karen “Gorgeous Nahindicere” Benyon, aged 55. Don’t dare mock! I’m a black female and I’m young. I love poetry, dancing, music and women’s clothes. I’m close to my emotions – I laugh a lot and I cry easily. And I am choosing to be bisexual, which is great news as it doubles my chances of a date on a Saturday night.

Oh, incidentally I am likely to be selected to run for the mayoralty of London by the Green party anytime soon. I’m told I will be a shoo-in.

I’ve yet to break this happy news to Jane and the family – never mind the dog, Moses. However, I’m sure the poor dears will be delighted to welcome their new Aunty Gorgeous into the family right away. What fun we’re going to have.