The intensity of an election campaign is a unique experience, a whirlwind of activities, interactions, and constant motion. For someone deeply involved in local politics, like myself in Onchan, Isle of Man, every day presents a new set of challenges and opportunities. This week, however, even the most routine aspects of daily life seemed determined to throw a wrench in the works, or perhaps more accurately, a missing car part.
Monday began typically enough, a peaceful start to the day after a minor skirmish with Monty, our feline companion. By 6:45 am, I was at my desk, tackling emails, Facebook messages, and the pulse of local media. Little did I know, the calm morning was merely the prelude to a day where unexpected delays would become the theme. With several colleagues on holiday, the office workload had noticeably increased. Lunch breaks became a luxury I couldn’t afford as I focused on ensuring everything was wrapped up by 5:30 pm.
Adding to the day’s unexpected turns, we had dropped our car off for a routine service. The expectation was a simple check-up, but a phone call delivered different news. A necessary Callister Car Part was not immediately available and needed to be ordered. This seemingly minor detail had a significant ripple effect. Suddenly, we were without transportation, facing a choice between a lengthy 50-minute walk home or opting for a taxi. We chose the walk, enjoying the fresh air, but the implications of being car-less quickly became apparent.
The evening’s Onchan Commissioners meeting, a commitment I rarely miss, became logistically challenging. Another 35-minute walk each way on top of the earlier commute simply wasn’t feasible. Missing this meeting, only the third in four years, was a disappointing consequence of the callister car part delay. The rest of the evening was spent unwinding at home, catching up on television, a quiet contrast to the day’s unexpected hurdles.
Tuesday morning mirrored Monday’s start, waking around 6 am to digest the Isle of Man Examiner online and other local news sources. The absence of our car meant another early departure, setting off just after 7 am for the 50-minute walk to the office. While I had briefly considered a taxi, Ellen preferred the walk, and truthfully, it was a pleasant morning for it.
The workday was a focused stretch from 8:10 am to 5:15 pm. Ellen kindly collected the car from the garage – thankfully, the callister car part had arrived and been fitted. Back home by 5:35 pm, I wrestled with the decision to go canvassing given the uncertain weather forecast. Ultimately, the campaign prevailed, and I pushed myself out for another two hours of door-to-door engagement. The conversations with residents, the genuine connections made, consistently reaffirm the value of this direct interaction.
Later that evening, an online discussion sparked my interest, centered around the dedication required for canvassing during elections. One viewpoint suggested that candidates with full-time jobs should utilize their holiday time to campaign “correctly.” This perspective perhaps overlooks the reality that many local authority representatives already dedicate substantial holiday time to meetings and civic duties throughout the year.
There’s a clear distinction between established Members of the House of Keys (MHKs) canvassing after August and new candidates balancing full-time employment, family responsibilities, and, for those already in local government, existing commitments. From my experience, teatime proves to be an effective canvassing window. People are generally home, yet also occupied, creating a natural rhythm for doorstep conversations – brief, but often impactful. In Onchan, with approximately 2,700 households, efficient door-knocking is essential.
Returning home around 8:10 pm, I listened to a couple of Manx Radio interviews before fatigue finally took over, and I fell asleep shortly after 9:30 pm.
Wednesday brought a familiar feeling of tiredness despite a decent night’s sleep, accompanied by a growing sense of stress. The sheer volume of election-related tasks was mounting, and the approaching election date of September 22nd seemed to accelerate time itself.
While I had felt ahead in the campaign initially, the nightly canvassing, though crucial, had diverted time from manifesto drafting, poster design, and speech writing – all vital components for the weeks ahead. Yet, canvassing offers a mental clarity, an enjoyable connection to the community, and remains an indispensable part of the process.
Another demanding day in the office from 8:10 am to 5:45 pm preceded an evening dedicated to canvassing in Onchan village. Ninety minutes of engaging with residents, discussing topics ranging from Pensions to the Birch Hill Telecommunications Mast appeal, provided valuable insights into local concerns.
However, Wednesday marked a shift in my campaign mindset. For the first time, doubts crept in, a sense of unease that perhaps my best efforts might not be sufficient when the votes are tallied. Positive feedback during canvassing undoubtedly provides a boost, but negative comments seem to linger, requiring more effort to overcome.
A few messages were exchanged before ending the day around 9:30 pm. The campaign trail is a demanding journey, full of unexpected turns, much like the unforeseen delay caused by a simple callister car part. Navigating these challenges, both large and small, is all part of the election experience.
