In Defence of Steves

I have mentioned before that all the work in the world is done by people called Dave, unless they are too busy in which case they have a mate called Steve who can cover it. This is Al Murray's comment to any audience member he speaks to called Dave or Steve. Beautiful British names, as he would put it.

But there is a problem. A hitch has been driven into town and abandoned at MSS's door.

You see David 'Call me Dave' Camera-on has, according to Downing Street as reported in the Guardian (left-wing, liberal bias warning) got two sorts of candidates for the forthcoming General Election. There are the ones we know about, '...privately educated and wealthy, the younger son of a marquis probably called Piers (if a man) or Petronella (on the rare occasions they are not); someone whose engagement with Europe runs no further than Courcheval (a ski resort apparently - ed) and who is happiest on a horse.

'The second is rougher, more brutal, and even richer: a non-dom self-made City millionaire little Englander - possibly called Steve - with unedifying views on the best way to deal with rapists. It sticks in the craw to imagine either Steve or Piers lecture on poverty.' (Julian Glover, The Guardian 7/12/09)

Glover goes on to explain, carefully, that this is a parody; what Downing Street would like people to believe. In fact the future MPs of the right are much changed from this stereotype. I care not. What I do care about is the suggestion that there is something essentially unpalatable about people called Steve. On behalf of Messrs Gerrard, Biko, Hawking, Jobs, Irwin, Gately, Seagall, Davis, Hendry and Fry I challenge. And that's the currently news-worthy, googleable Steves and Stephens, many of whom remain alive. What a complex, weird, wonderful and interesting bunch we are.

Let's leave it to the Steves.