On the whole, we are not a generation given to dancing in the streets and waving our knickers in the air.

Some of us, though, might own up to a few such episodes on the day peace was declared.

However, we have learned to make our views known to the world at large, and the Government in particular, rather more forcefully than might have been the case.

The scenes outside the Brighton Centre during the Labour Party conference gave notice the Grey Vote was finding a voice and it expected the Government to listen to what it was saying, or in some cases shouting rather loudly.

Whether Tony Blair's speech will have the soothing effect of gripe water, only time will tell. But there was no disguising the gut reactions of some of the older Third Agers who were there to battle it out with the Prime Minister and the Chancellor while they were within shouting distance.

Both speeches were masterly in their own way and the faithful within the walls gave a standing ovation to the performers - er, sorry, speakers.

But for many who listened hoping to hear something to ease the pain of their declining bank balances it was like the Red Queen's famous words: "Jam yesterday (look what wonderful things we have done), Jam tomorrow (if you are lucky and live long enough you will get a rise next April 2003 for the big one), but never Jam today."

Figures poured out of both their mouths like machine-gun fire - 1,000 more cancer specialists (it takes about eight years to train a specialist but who's counting?), about the same in teachers, hospitals and schools by the score (anyone know how to build a hospital overnight?).

But the Grey Vote was interested in the pensions argument and the price of fuel, both of which are part of the real world as opposed to the fantasy land of conference.

We would do well to remember the money coming back to us in pensions is money which WE paid into the bulging coffers of the National Insurance scheme over our working life.

So raising the pensions should not impact in any way on any other spending schemes the Government has tucked away up its now-you-see-it, now-you-don't sleeve. The fuel price somehow got dropped from Blair's munificent basket of goodies while Brown was adamant that he would not be bounced into any tax cuts.

The Countryside Alliance was subjected to an onslaught from John Prescott who, face contorted with rage, referred to the "snarling faces" of those who wished to retain the right to hunt foxes. I was instantly reminded of pots and kettles.

But all that was by the way. It was the feeling that there was a genuine cause for the pensioners which rally such old war horses as Jack Jones and Barbara Castle to the flag and they are well known for not letting go of a cause if they believe in it.

Tony Blair is no one's fool and he would do well to listen to the voice of the millions of voters of pensionable age who could upset his applecart with one tick of the pen if they decided to do so.

To quote the well-known phrase from the film Love Story: "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

Maybe being Prime Minister means that occasionally you DO have to say it.