Politicians and Passive Aggression.

Every day there's a press conference from Downing Street, originally held by the Prime Minister but as he's been out of action for a while now the rest of the Cabinet are taking it in turns give it a whirl. Today they've dragged out the Education Secretary for the daily briefing.

The trouble with these press conferences, aside from the press not actually being there any more, instead appearing by video link, like vulnerable children in a particularly sensitive court case, is that they've turned into something altogether different. Gavin Williamson, when I tuned in today appeared to be delivering an after dinner speech and though I don't watch them every day now that tends to be the way it feels more often than not.

I can't help but feel I've tuned into a white tie dinner at Mansion House and a politician is addressing the diners at their annual banquet having just had their empty pudding plates replaced with lukewarm cups of coffee and chocolate truffles.

Hot on the heels of the MP du jour is generally a scientist who singlehandedly removes us from the City of London and lands us in a 1980s polytechnic with their descriptions of graphs and what the trends actually mean. Dehumanising the now 16,000 deaths by turning them into statistics and lines on a chart which are flattening or otherwise.

I'm being glib, obviously there is more to this than I describe. I think I put it down to my age. I'm only 44 but I just realised that Mr Williamson, the Education Secretary, who is clearly a smart guy, is accomplished and even has a CBE to his name, is a year younger than me. How depressing.

I did a quick Wikipedia check, out of curiosity, while I was listening to him speak as I detected a northern accent sneaking through, ever so gently, between words and wondered where he was from. He'd be a lefty's wet dream if it weren't for the fact he was a Conservative MP. Born in a northern seaside town, dad a local government worker and mum job centre staff, both of whom voted Labour. State comprehensive, sixth form college, then Bradford University, he may as well have been related to Ken Loach.

I do today's scientist a disservice as she is actually the Deputy Chief Medical Officer for England. She appears much more comfortable standing at the lectern than Williamson and that, for me at least, gives her a sense of authority. She reminds me in a way of my granny, a measured, intelligent woman who commands attention.

I'm a big fan of social media - Facebook and Instagram being my drugs of choice - and I'm a member of a group called Mint Community. It was started as an online community predominantly, though by no means exclusively, for gay men that used to be on the Manchester gay scene in the 80s and 90s. It's a mix of music, jokes, support, culture, reminiscing, slagging people off and unsurprisingly pictures of supposedly attractive men.

Every week there is a selfie battle where someone posts four pictures of men taking a picture of themselves in various states of undress and members of the group choose which one they think is the most attractive. Inevitably people get carried away and it's not unusual to read that Baz from Salford has written something like 'Number three would deffo get it.' followed by an aubergine emoji. I recently noticed one group member, a beefcake with a beard and shaved head, had taken the time to criticise the interior decor of the apartments behind the selfie takers, which while being a bit of a cliche, I admired and thanked heavens it wasn't just me that had noticed.

The reason I mention this group is that recently the Foreign Secretary was featured with a bunch of photographs and the question - 'Politics aside... Dominic Raab... would you?'

I wonder if this kind of objectification will befall Mr Williamson in time. I'm pretty sure Theresa May didn't have to endure it.

Chris took me to Chorlton Water Park today. We've lived here for nearly ten years and neither of us had been till this week. It was nice, we interrupted a group of Muslim girls having a sneaky joint on a bench near the water and Chris fed banana to the ducks. I'm not sure bananas are part of the staple diet of a duck but they gobbled them down all the same.

Social distancing rules were generally being adhered to, mostly by me though as I found myself ducking and diving to avoid other people while walking along the river and round the lake.

One thing I've never really understood when in the countryside is the habit of people to say hello and smile as they walk past you. At one and the same time it's both incredibly English and the most utterly un-English thing to do. Chris gets involved, winking and smiling at folk as we walk past, nodding and saying 'How-do.' to randoms. I don't care for it preferring to stare at the ground like a petulant teenager and then criticise them after they're out of earshot.

My passive aggressive favourite is 'No it's absolutely fine, I'll move out of your way.' Today however conjured up from me the contemptuous 'Did you see that? I think she was wearing a corduroy dress!'