Lightening up

YOU might think there is little to laugh about in politics. You must be joking! Here are a few memories of mine that might put a smile on your face. I remember one friend congratulating me on my election. “Rumour has it MPs are like bananas. They arrive green, turn yellow and invariably end up bent. Hope you do better,” he wrote. Charming, eh?

Then there were the inevitable doorstep interactions with the electorate. Picture the scene — election time, march up path, knock on door. Face reluctantly appears behind door chain. “Good evening Sir. I’m Stephen Day, your Conservative candidate. I do hope I can rely on your support next Thursday.” (By the way, I’d been this chap’s MP for 10 years at the time).

“You can lad,” he replied (so far so good) “because the b **** r we’ve got now is no bloody good.” Oh dear! Life’s rich tapestry,

eh? My wife was marking the canvas card. “How did you get on?” she enquired. “Put him down as ‘doubtful’,” I replied.

“Knock knock” — here we go again. Nice, elderly lady appears at door. “Good evening, etc,” I said. “Oh, Mr Day,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted to thank you personally. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have this roof over my head. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I do hope I can rely on your vote then,” I responded. “Good grief, no,” came the reply, “I never vote Tory!”

“What did she say?” enquired my wife. “Don’t ask,” I replied.

Then there were my regular visits to my constituency local. Word-slurring man marches up to me, pint in hand: “Are you that Day chap?” he said. “Yes,” I responded.

“We never bloody see you,” he replied and marched off. At which point, you give up!