AFTER Theresa May announced the 'Snap' election on April 18 we had been landed a six-week catch-up crash course in who deserves the keys to Number 10.

That word SNAP has since been in overdrive.

Tomorrow, let's hope we voters are ready and well-informed enough and won't make any 'snap' decisions that we will end up regretting.

The next Government will be in charge until 2022.

I will be 65 by then - and I am worried NOW.

So, I have been soaking in every heated Question Time and respective Party Political Broadcast to see if the sums they are offering add up.

Sadly, we've all seen and heard politicians from all parties snapping at each other in live debates and scoring points.

You can almost hear nerves snapping from spin-doctors who see their charges just about cope with the interrogators: Jeremy Paxman, Michael Crick, John Humphrys and the Andrews - Marr and Neil.

The tabloid photographers are snapping away hoping to find another Ed Miliband embarrassing bacon-butty-eating moment or a rabbit-in-the-headlight shot of Theresa May clumsily eating from a bag of chips.

There's been new snappy terminology, too, such as Jeremy Corbyn's curious "megaphone diplomacy" remark.

Forget U-turns, they are being labelled "changes of heart" (can't imagine Margaret Thatcher ever saying "This lady's not for heart-changing".

Sadly, there's the growing, worrying trend in "alternative facts".

Lies, in other words. Fake news.

"Snap" indeed covers all human and social emotions meaning: breaking under pressure; falling apart suddenly; quickly losing patience; cold weather periods (with or without winter allowances); clicking one's fingers and snarling at people.

And when two policies from opposing parties sound the same but from are from different manifestos - it's just like a game of Westminster SNAP!

I’ll make this snappy statement...

Tomorrow belongs to ME and YOU.

Let’s hope we put the X where we want it at the ballot box. Nobody does democracy better.

Friday morning at breakfast, I simply want to wake up to good news and enjoy my bowl of snap, crackle and pop.


FIFTY years ago - I wrote a poem about "a golden-coated land where I made castles in the sand".

Halcyon days – when my docker dad took me and the rest of the Grant boys on an adventure by ferry.

They were innocent times - joy and laughter-filled memories that will be with me all of my life.

I treasure them still because they were free.

To me, New Brighton back then could have been "abroad".

So I was intrigued when a three-day Bank Holiday event came to town and promised it would "transform it into one huge seaside extravaganza".

The Liverpool-based organisers of the "New Brighton Seaside Festival", Orb Events, trumpeted "good old-fashioned family fun".

I was astonished by the instant outpouring of social media complaints following misleading report in a local paper that deemed it a "massive success".

The collective angst disagreed - it was like a barrage caused by irate seagulls trying to penetrate a promenade-based fish and chip van.

The Inferno listened to many tales of disappointed visitors as well as local business who lost a lot of earnings that they would normally have made with it being a Bank Holiday.

The organisers said "even the bad weather couldn't dampen spirits".

Wrong. It added to it.

Having been a judge on many event panels on Merseyside, I am acutely aware what constitutes a user-friendly success.

One correspondent told me they had paid their £5 for adults (£3 for kids) at Fort Perch Rock car park and that was it!

Inside you had to pay for the rides, food etc.

"It was like a glorified car boot sale with music" said one disgruntled, underwhelmed dad from across the Mersey.

Everyone wants to see New Brighton's re-birth go from strength to strength, but more consultation is needed in the future between the council and the suppliers, from the pricing to the location.

I hope the unveiling of the Mermaid Trail today goes swimmingly well and that this inspirational attraction proves a splashing success.

Times are hard and families need value-for-money on outings and brought in events and local businesses need respect – after all, the resort was built on their contributions many going back 100 years.


OVER the moon to see Paul Gascoigne getting his act together at turning 50.

I once attended a press conference at White Hart Lane where Paul (in his Gazza strip) was launching a soccer tips video.

I had my hand up for what seemed like 90 minutes (and extra time).

Eventually, he pointed at me and when I was about to ask him a question he grinned and said in his Geordie accent ... "No, not YOU, pal ... the lovely lass next to you, she's much better looking".

Later, he got me a drink at the hospitality bar – (just the one).

And he said he loved winding up journalists, it was his way of getting back at the paparazzi.

He then gave me enough quirky quotes to write a book.

He admitted he was a born practical-joker as he signed a copy of the video to me.

On the train back to Lime Street I laughed as I read the inscription: "Keep taking the ugly pills, Gazza".

Peter Grant