UP and down the nation, bands of valiant people of all political persuasions are shoving leaflets through a myriad of front doors.
This article is an homage to every single person who believes in something enough to negotiate gadzillion steps in often treacherously rainy conditions in desperate search of a letterbox.
Hatred of architects may well be a surprising thread to unite people across the political divide but unless your back is as springy as the metal hinge your fingers get bitten by, the sight of a ground-level letterbox can be an emotional step too far.
Especially if you’ve just climbed several flights. Do door designers have a vindictive desire to punish postmen?
For the dog phobic amongst us, political campaigning is a triumph of love over terror.
‘Beware of the dog’ signs require an intake of breath as you loosen the latch on a gate.
Usually though the picture of a demonic Doberman is a long way from the dozing dachshund that is more likely to ignore than greet you.
Tip to any fearful leafletters – if there really is a pack of Rottweilers ready to chase you off the premises, access to the property will be closed off.
You can approach every open driveway with confidence.
The strangest sight to meet the eager campaigner is no letterbox at all. At all. Oh, the despair!
Perhaps some people don’t want any post at all! There is something soul-destroying to the weary, often sopping wet, candidate if after mounting a thousand steps up long mossy paths the only place to deposit your message is via the cat flap! (I should emphasise that I have absolutely never done this. Never. Although sorely tempted!)
Imagine the joy though of noticing on a miserable descent that you’ve walked right past a fashionably retro painted box at the entrance.
Porches – what’s OK behaviour or not? Personally, like a vampire, I don’t enter any home uninvited.
So, while outer porch doors are open, I’ll only advance inwards with my flier if the internal door is firmly closed.
I know some leafletters will hurl their leaflet through an open inner door from outside and while the idea of making a paper plane that sails into somebody’s living room is quite tempting, it should be solidly rejected. (I wish I hadn’t had that thought now!)
Empty properties tell the eager campaigner who’s been there before.
Seeing a pile of ‘vote for me, I’m nice’ messages piling up on the mat always seems rather sad – positive shiny faces, never to be looked at, destined to become papier mache over time in the wind and rain and recycling.
What’s thoroughly horrible though, is catching a glimpse of negative campaigning. (don’t vote for X they’re horrible) There’s far too much of that!
My company has declared ‘collaboration’ to be a company value. Do we need more of that in our politics?
My late father was averse to that word for its world-war two resonances and for him it triggered a negative reaction.
In the many decades that have followed though, maybe the word can be seen as more positive.
A peaceful and positive working together by elected politicians for the sake of all our futures. Here’s to that!