‘Know when to walk away and know when to run’

I’ve managed to lead something of a charmed existence over the past three weeks in that no canvasser of any class, creed or denomination has made eye contact with me.

The drudgery of the late Winter/early Spring season on the farm has meant that in the critical window of canvassing hours from 7 to 9pm, instead of facing ‘respectable people’ in coats and jackets, the eyes staring at me are those of temperamental Limousins.

In the greater scheme of things, it’s probably the lesser of two evils but although I know people who store up their bile to unleash on cavassers, I just wouldn’t have the heart to ‘open up’ on the doorstep callers.

The canvassers are the real foot soldiers of the elections . . . the people with the local knowledge of the townlands, the houses, the names of the occupants, what they do for a living and even who they might give the ‘number 2’ to, when the door knockers know full well that they’re not at a party house.

For the most part – well out the country anyway – canvassers tell me that they are generally greeted with politeness at the doorsteps but every so often, they will get an earful over such things as water charges; property tax; that dreaded monster tax of working people, the USC; or the supermarket that has been forced to close down in the local village.

The more experienced canvassers do tend to have a ‘good handle’ on interpreting the replies they get from voters with the ‘safe houses’ always delivering the line of: “You always got the number one here, and it won’t be any different this time around.”

After that though, there are many grey areas that replies slip into. “Well, thanks for calling, we’ll think about you,” is a pretty safe bet that there’s ‘nothing doing’ while only a little better is the line: “We won’t forget ya,” that translates into, at best, a number 4 or 5.

So after all that, does canvassing really work. Well apparently it does, to some extent, in that if you don’t do it, the other fella will. One vastly experienced TD, who has hung up his shoes, always operated on the principle that: “Asking for a vote will never lose you one, but not asking, certainly can.”

Some of the essential guidelines for canvassers include being personable, not bitching too much about ‘the other crowd’, smiling, shaking hands and thanking people for their time even if they have let off some steam in your presence.

The whole ethos of canvassing apparently dates back to the 1700s in the United Kingdom when voters were plied with drink, food, money in cases, and loads of kisses too, in an effort to woo the votes of the masses.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.