Shane Greer has tagged me with this meme, so I suppose that I ought to indulge (although I doubt that I can match his harrowing recollection). Like Caroline Hunt, I have been surrounded by politics, mainly in the form of my father's Telegraph-induced exasperated breakfast rantings—obviously a family tradition which your humble Devil is merely keeping alive in a more permanent medium. Coupled with my drink- and drug-diminished brain, all this makes it difficult to distinguish any political memories at all.
As such, I suppose that the one that I best recall was during the 1992 election. Having watched a couple of hours of coverage we retired to bed, my father muttering that "there was absolutely no point in staying up to watch that ghastly turd, Kinnock, win."
Imagine my surprise (and confusion) then when—at some ungodly hour of the morning, maybe 5 or so—my door burst open and my father rushed in, clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, punching the air and yelling, "We won! We won! Take that, you bloody Welsh windbag!"
Cue another five years of my father sitting at the breakfast table ranting about what an arsehole Major was...
I am required to tag five other people, so I would be intrigued to hear the earliest political memories of Mr E, Chris Strange, Jackart, Bag and Unity.