I WOKE up with an election yesterday morning.
The last few General Elections have seen me last the course and make it to the final result, bleary-eyed but with a sense of achievement.
But this one? No chance. Having voted early doors after the school run, completing a full day in the office, then meeting friends for a curry, I returned home to see Sunderland announce first – as usual – then settled in to see the other results begin to trickle through.
All I remember is that Labour and Conservatives were neck and neck, then I fell asleep, waking up to a sea of blue and a raft of high-profile oustings.
Maybe I’m just showing my age. This was the most exciting election night for years, and I missed most of it. I sat through 2001 and worked through 2005, two of the duller nights in recent history, yet the one time it looks like getting interesting, I dozed off.
The political landscape is about to change significantly. If it’s going to be for the worse, is there any chance I can doze off for the next five years?
IT WAS pleasing to see Sunderland first to announce their results. There is something reassuring and soothing about a North-East success story.
But how do they do it so quickly, every time?
The operation itself is impressive. They plan everything meticulously. The grade of the ballot paper was changed to make it easier to count. Local schools were engaged, their pupils employed as runners to transport ballot boxes to their correct destinations.
Ballot boxes themselves were scanned in and out, where organisers can identify why a particular box took longer to get to the count than another, looking at potential traffic problems, if there were roadworks on the route, things like that.
It’s all very impressive.
I lived in Sunderland for a few years. I once had my wheelie bin stolen. It took them six months to provide me with a new one. Having seen how they operate their election count, it’s clear where the council’s attentions are focused.
As fun as their record-breaking attempts are, would it not be more appropriate for the local authority to concentrate on delivering services to their residents? It’s more important than ever, now.
MY OWN political career was short, and not particularly sweet.
I had two brushes with the cruel mistress that is democracy.
When I was 14, I took part in a school election, which ran parallel to the 1997 General Election. In a Labour stronghold, I reluctantly stood as a Conservative, because my preferred party, the Liberal Democrats, were already represented. I was probably the most conflicted Tory candidate there has ever been. As a result, I believe I finished last. If I paid a deposit, I wouldn’t have got it back.
Then there was my major disappointment in life. My sixth form council leader election in 2000. I spent lots of time on my poster campaign with the message “SEX! Now I’ve got your attention, vote Richard Mason.” That didn’t last long. Didn’t go down too well with the powers that be, apparently.
I didn’t win. The bloke who did was a 6ft 5ins anarchist who had little interest in the political process, and resigned soon after. I can only imagine that when people came to vote, they said “who’s the big one,” and the answer that was proffered identified he, rather than me.
Next time, I’m going to wear a ginger wig.
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