Letter to the Taoiseach

AREN’T elections a serious handlin’, Enda? Candidate-itis afflicts even the most guaranteed election runner going forward. The party managers have cut their territory back to the bone and there is no quota left in the quarter of a field that they are expected to plough.
You meet all kinds of hardliners who never threw a stone in anger. We tell them that, whatever day Ireland is freed, we’ll give them a shout and a lift over to the celebrations. You find yourself capping cattle through the gates into fields at 10pm because your co-canvasser has a bit of farming to raid up.
Some that you depend on take to the drink for a few days. Mondays are out completely. Others have to do umpire at an under-age match and aren’t available. Thankfully, plenty of others free up their time and you are very appreciative of their help.
As for the constituents – the people with the real power – they want to know the profile of services that are to go into the new proposed local enhanced hospital, how their rural road can be included on the gritting list for the winter and who bought the Widow Toal’s Place at the auction earlier in the day.
Emigration raises its head. A lot of young people in Australia and the local team badly affected.  The absence of broadband in rural areas. Hard to remember everyone’s name at the doorsteps. In Tyrone, anyway, there are full-size Gaelic football posts in even the smallest of gardens and a Size 5 O’Neill’s in the back of the net. (I put it there.) The girls are into football up here as much as the boys.
There are posters up on country roads for candidates who will be dancing in the ‘Strictly’ competition, now the whole go for club fundraising. When you ask for the vote at the door, they want to know who your dance partner is!
Dog-owners will assure you that the dog doesn’t bite and they actually believe this themselves. Parochial factions fight over every telegraph pole for prime poster location. They take it very seriously, prepared to fight if necessary.
One elderly and rather confused constituent told me that he intended to vote for the SDLP but didn’t know how PR worked. My co-canvassers told him that the most he could give the SDLP was two points, so put 2 in the box beside their name. “McElduff is the other nationalist – you might as well give him one point.”