VOTE DAD.

I decided, as I posted the umpteenth set of leaflets through another combative letterbox, that I don’t envy postmen. This was the fourth out of four roads that I was canvassing to promote my dad as a political candidate in Headley, and I was discovering that almost every house has those letterboxes that are infernally difficult to post though – in order to deter the very leaflets I was shoving through them. Joining us on our doorstep challenge was the local political bigwig and a couple of helpers, all very into the political scene and eager to promote my dad. We split into individual roads, grouped to blitz streets and generally made ourselves known at 9.30 on a Saturday morning, catching a good few as they were running to hide behind a wall in their pyjamas.
It turned out, pleasingly, that most of them were on our side anyway, and we escaped with just the one lecture from an old lady on how we were all liars and as bad as each other. There’s not really an angle you can win with on that blanket argument…