ALL men are equal (and in order to conform to the equal opportunist people, I must add women) and it's a saying that is constantly trotted out.

Oh yes, we all quote it but in our hearts we know that it's just not true. For wherever I am or wherever I have been, whether it was at school or in the gym, maybe at work or to this day whatever company I find myself in, there are people far better or worse at a particular pursuit than I am.

Sometimes the difference doesn't matter, but quite often it does and on those occasions the one who should do the job is the person who is good at it.

Surely that's in the best interests of us all.

But in the present political climate it is starting to look like they want everyone to be the same, none of the good, or better, or best, but all the same, all qualified.

It seems not to matter what you are, or what you really like, get a degree. Let's just push all our young folk to university, even if it means them getting into debt, and even if a lot 'drop out' for it doesn't suit everyone.

The problem is, when too many get degrees, those very degrees which were meant to put you ahead become worthless in the workplace.

Now I'm not sure who it was who said "If everybody is somebody, then a somebody becomes a nobody" but I think it's true.

We are all different, thank heavens, and by all means let our clever children go to the grammar schools.

We should be encouraging the best to excel, not trying to bring everyone to one mediocre mass.

We all need something to strive for, a target. The unemployed should want, even long, to be employed.

The workers should want to buy their own homes, build better lives for themselves, and have all the things that in my youth were considered middle class.

We are not doing any favours to anyone by letting folk think that things are 'theirs' as a right.

These 'things' only have true value, and give you real personal pride and pleasure, if they have been earned.

I HAVE been to the dentist for a bit of bridge work. Now I have an irrational fear of needles. Irrational? They positively petrify me.

My brain talks to me, it tells me 'Don't be daft Margo, it's only going to hurt a second. You are a grown woman, you have suffered childbirth.'

So why is it that I have found myself suddenly outside the dentist running like mad towards my car in the car park.

And that's before I'd even sat in the chair and he has said those famous words 'Now this is not going to hurt you one little bit.'

In that 'chair' I would clutch his arm saying things like 'I'll be all right in a minute, sorry' and pretend not to notice that he's gritting his teeth and desperately trying to free the said arm which I fear was now at least blue if not black.

But I am glad to say all that is in the past, now I'm brave, relaxed even. I go in and my dentist, well, he still looks a little tense but he no longer backs away.

So if someone could invent a silent dentist's drill and teach me how to talk coherently to him with a mouth full of his hand, then all would be well.

Till next week.