Byelections are strange creatures. One seat and one seat only.
Talk about siphoning every drop of joy and Schadenfreude from the whole public relations endeavour.
But that’s The Count. Right now, it’s all about the canvassing and I’ve been out and about doing just that in Dublin Central for what seems like months if not years.
But, of course, it’s just been weeks. Long, endless weeks. And I’m not a candidate. Nor have I been out for every canvass or even close to it.
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But I do experience the guilt of not pounding the streets when I’ve nothing else on. I’m good on the guilt. I think I speak for all of us canvassers, whatever the party or non-party, when I say we’re good on the guilt.
And the canvassing has actually been fine. The people who’ve answered the doors have been fine. The weather to date has been fine. The dogs have been fine. The cats have been fine.
It’s all been ... absolutely fine. But tiring. And repetitive. And even a little bit tedious.
But that’s democracy for you. Unglamorous and understated. And it’s now entering the edgy stage.
Candidates are becoming fraught. They’re not eating properly or sleeping properly. They’re out day and night and existing on adrenaline. They’ve answered the same questions and said the same spiel again and again to the point where they’re beginning to second-guess themselves.
Our job has now shifted to becoming counsellors. To telling them that they’re doing great. That the campaign is great. That they’re getting a great response on the doorsteps. That they’ve been great on the TV, or radio, or on social media, or wherever.
To reassure. Always reassure.
Years ago, I was working on a campaign in another constituency and on a canvass close to the end, the very end, a guy shouted something to the candidate from a passing car. Naturally enough, it wasn’t encouraging. It was dumb and offensive, quite possibly like the guy himself.
It barely registered with me. Who cared what this person thought? But the candidate did. He took it to heart.
Why had he said this? Why did he think this?
It was exhaustion speaking, of course, which had given rise to a complete lack of perspective. We had to talk the candidate down. State the obvious. This person was not going to vote for him. Not everyone was going to vote for him. That was part of the whole process.
We’ve had an election in my primary school just recently. A vote for the names of the new Junior Infant classes. Every year, the two new classes are given an Irish name that stays with them throughout their primary years. It’s always the name of an animal, a bird, a fish, or a plant that can be found on this island.
The student Dáil went around the classes to get suggestions and then narrowed these down to seven options that made it on to the ballot paper. Pupils and staff alike voted, in order of preference.
When it came to the count, the children took to the process like proverbial ducks to water, although just to be clear, duck or rather lacha, didn’t make it on to the ballot paper. There is already a Rang Lacha in the school, that particular waterfowl having prevailed two years previously.
A quota was calculated and the first elimination set in motion. Announcements were made over the intercom at each juncture. As the day wore on, a child wearily informed me that she had counted ballot papers so much that the numbers were going around and around in her head.
Another commented that between eliminations (no one having made it to the quota), there was an awful lot of hanging around.
A version of “Yes indeed, welcome to the democratic process” was offered in both cases.
But back to Dublin Central. It’ll all be over soon. As it will for our Galway West counterparts. Although it seems to have gone on forever, in the grand scheme of things, it’s been relatively short and sharp. And because there’s only one seat in both cases, we’ll have the result very quickly.
And then we’ll be able to go about our business on evenings and weekends guilt-free.
Féileacán and Cóinín made it through in our school election. Those butterflies and bunnies will never know of their victory in a primary school in the very heart of Dublin city.
Although who knows, maybe someone will tell them.
But as for the successful and unsuccessful candidates in Dublin Central and Galway West, it’s a different story. Elation or disappointment, they’re going to have to live with that result.
Until it all begins again. When things really get real. At the next general election, that is.
