14 April 2016, 10 am
Two years ago, at the annual Scottish meeting, CIPA members forgot themselves and accidentally approved a ballot list with my name on. Shortly afterwards, because nobody could think quickly enough to do anything about it, I got elected as VeePee. The rest is history. So, really, it is the Scottish members of CIPA who are to blame. This is why I have returned to Edinburgh, along with Mr Davies and the EyePeePee, to tell them off. But also to say: there look; it wasn’t so bad after all, was it? CIPA is still here. We haven’t been taken over by the solicitors, or the Germans. We haven’t been exposed in the Daily Mail. We still have a ceremonial gavel and our minutes are still better punctuated than those of any other membership organisation on the planet, thanks to the diligence of the Onssek and his magic comma-spotting spectacles. True, we are a little more namby-pamby, but only on the surface: deep down we are still razor-sharp, hard as nails, and all those other macho expressions that describe a profession allergic to compromise. And we are still 125 years ahead of ITMA on the Charter front. (Though we don’t want to rub it in, of course.) Folks, I will say, it could have been so much worse. They may or may not swallow that.
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