What a day and what a difference. Battled through traffic jams and left a lovely morning outside to enter the world of the dementors. Those who know their Harry Potter will recognise them as the creatures that suck the life out of anyone nearby.
The first event of the day was again organised by a church – this time in Buxton. A spacious, cold venue with about 150 present, it quickly became clear that we were attending the ‘how not to run a hustings’ event. All the candidates had been sent the questions beforehand. What a colossal mistake. No spontaneity, barely any interaction between the candidates and a chairman who controlled proceedings very firmly. Reading prepared answers mostly very badly, was an unedifying spectacle and highlighted the lack of quality on offer. In addition it was made clear that we were to be passive observers. All the energy, dynamism and interest in the room sucked into an electoral black hole.
The Tory is the clear favourite for the seat and set his stall out on being locally born, locally living and locally active. He was a ‘local candidate for local people’ and should really be referred to as Royston. Unfortunately, despite being reminded twice to hold the microphone not so close as it brought distortion, Royston continued to dilute his message by sounding like fingernails on a blackboard.
The UKIP lady failed to turn up again and sent an odd replacement who is standing, “30 miles away.” He at least broke the boredom by giving wacky offerings, the odd provocative comment - and dancing eyebrows! True! As others spoke, he performed a caterpillar dance above his nose.
The Green Party candidate was the best on offer by some way. The ex-banker Independent spoke in the clipped tones of Mr Fortescue-Brown from around 1950 and had views to match. The others were second rate and characterless.
The same pensioner who made the ‘bloody disgrace’ comment at a previous meeting, tried to speak as the meeting was drawing to close. The Vicar, yes, the Vicar, tried to intercept him and when challenged about this, said that such interventions were not allowed within the format of the meeting. Joe Stalin, eat your bleeding heart out. What a frightened, fearful, unconfident and deeply controlling anti-democratic bunch. The country is facing the deepest crisis since the Second World War and the good people of Buxton are to sit quietly and do as they are bid. Let the dementors do their worst.
Totally dispirited and wondering whether to bother, we went to Macclesfield, a neighbouring constituency to the High Peak. What a contrast. Six candidates on show in yet another church (why is no other organisation capable of hosting such a vital event?) A combination of pre-submitted questions – but not to the candidates - and ones from the floor.
But this time we had four candidates who you felt could represent Macclesfield with credit. From the off we had assurance, clarity, projection and passion. This safe Tory seat was formerly held by the odious Winterton. His replacement was forced onto the local association from Tory Central Office and he knew this had been unpopular with the locals. He had worked hard since his nomination to get under the skin of the area. Assured, competent and capable he will go on to higher things although he is a mormon. The Lib/Dem sounded uncannily like Dr David Starkey and revealed that he was, “An ordinary professor of particle physics at Manchester University.” Lively, witty and well briefed he more than held his own. Labour had a NHS consultant representing them and he too was first class. The Independent had a passion about the corruption in our national life and expressed himself with clarity and a degree of anger. He would be no pushover in Parliament unlike any of the pussycats of the High Peak who would be a whips dream.
To complete the platform we had an inadequate Green standing in for the candidate who was on a pre-arranged event and a wonderful UKIP rep. She had rung up UKIP to see who was standing in her area and been told no-one, so she stepped in and stood up for what she believed. Off- the- wall, rambly but occasionally perceptive, and frequently very, very funny.
Spookily, towards the end a pensioner stood up and wanted his say. This time we were asked if we were happy for him to say his piece – and so he did.
Well Done Macclesfield! Shame on you High Peak!
How the hell can there be such a difference in the calibre of candidates in neighbouring constituencies? Questions must be asked.
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