Rivals for your votes

IT TOOK a while, but finally politicians have got around to talking about the issues that matter.

No, not the economy, stupid; not taxes; not the war with Iraq or even the state of our schools or hospitals. The things that really matter to the people of York are car parking, floods and speed humps.

Of York's eight election hopefuls, the only one who seems to have realised this, however, is Andy Hinkles. The artist otherwise known as Milladdio, who is standing for something called the Integrity Party (whatever that is: an offshoot of the Loonies, apparently) is making a shameless pitch for the popular vote.

Sporting a quiff to match Elvis impersonator Eddie Vee - the official Loony candidate, who's not on the ballot paper this time because he could not afford the £500 registration fee - Andy was the only one to set the hustings at York College alight. Apart from Guy Fawkes, but more of him later.

Andy/ Milladdio set out his policies with admirable clarity. Free parking; a complete ban on all flooding; and quicker speed humps. "They are very slow, and if they are going to be called speed humps, they should be quicker".

The Integrity Party is also in favour of appropriate development in York. "If you've ever walked around the Bar Walls... well, can someone finish them?" Andy asked. "If we get invaded, we're in trouble."

Since the hustings was being held at York College, Andy naturally also addressed education. "A-levels for Elvis impersonators," he said. "There are far too many of them and we've got to set some standards."

Judging by the warmth of the applause he received from his audience of young students, Andy was doing a good job of setting the standards for political debate. Only Guy Fawkes had a warmer reception (if you'll pardon the expression).

Sporting a tall Puritan hat and bushy beard and waving a giant matchstick, Guy (real name Damian Mark Fleck) exhorted the audience to "Vote Guy Fawkes and brighten things up."

This year was the 400th anniversary since his execution, he noted. "And let me tell you, I was 100 per cent guilty of everything they said."

But why vote for him?

"We're sick and tired of the relentless bickering and squabbling of the three main rivals," he said. "We all know that whoever is in power, crime will increase, the health service will continue to deteriorate and we will pay more tax. Vote Dungeons, Death and Taxes Party and it will probably happen under us, but at least we're being up-front and honest about it."

The loony candidates are one of the great delights about elections in this country: just when you think you're about to be bored to death by the sniping and bickering of the main candidates, up they pop. They're more fun and also more honest than their mainstream rivals - and, in an odd way, they often talk more sense, too.

Nowhere do you realise this more than at a hustings. Such an event is the only chance you get to see all your candidates lined up together. It is often not a pretty sight: but what better way to measure the candidates' relative worth?

This being politics (in which, in case you haven't realised it yet, truth is not always at a premium), you may or may not want to be too much influenced by what the candidates say. Much more interesting is the way in which they say it: and the way in which they present themselves to the public.

Hugh Bayley, the Labour MP who is seeking re-election in York, comes across as solid, sensible and a little dull. He got a rough ride from the audience and his rival candidates for voting in favour of the war on Iraq, after initially opposing it.

"It's about time you explained what the whips did to you to make you change your mind!" taunted Andrew Waller, Lib Dem candidate (and deputy leader of City of York Council). However, Hugh also scored one of the biggest rounds of applause of the evening for his description of Conservative immigration policy as "insidious racism dressed up in decent clothes".

Tory candidate Clive Booth presented a contrast to Hugh's rather staid shirtsleeves-and-neat-tie image. With his trying-to-be-hip leather jacket, open-necked shirt and glasses, he looks a bit like a modern vicar who is trying too hard. But he burst out of the blocks at a rate of knots, employing all of his professional PR man's skills to engage with the audience.

"Show of hands if you happen to believe York is one of the best places in the world to live," he said. Then he proceeded to brandish a copy of the Evening Press from last year which, under the headline "In The Gutter", showed a drunken young woman vomiting in the street while her friend kissed a beggar.

"York deserves better than this, and I know damn well I can do better than the people behind me!" Clive said, referring to the other candidates on the podium.

Judging by the volume of applause, he seemed to go down pretty well: until he got around to talking about Conservative policy. His line on immigration - what would the 246 registered homeless families in York think if their place on the housing waiting list was taken by immigrants? - earned him the only hiss of the evening.

Oddest of the candidates was the independent, Ken Curran. A tall, lugubrious man wearing what looked suspiciously like a parka, he at first spoke so quietly nobody could hear. When asked to speak up, he did so: roaming the podium and bellowing odd statements that nobody quite understood.

The only part that seemed to make real sense was when he declared: "I don't want your money! I don't even want your vote!"

Which is good, because he probably won't get it.

Richard Jackson, the UKIP candidate, seemed intent on doing an impression of the Vanishing Man. His neat grey suit and tie appeared designed to help him fade into the background. He stood up, spoke quietly and briefly - "We have a raft of policies but I'm not going into them all now. We will not be running the country on May 6" - then sat down again. The applause was appropriately muted.

Not so for the Greens' Andy D'Agorne. His rather musty, tweedy jacket made him look oddly like a careers adviser. But his policies on the environment ("we need to make promises for the next 100 years, not the next 100 days") clearly scored well with his young audience.

And when he pledged that his party would cancel Third World debt, he received the biggest cheer of the evening, plus a few whoops and yells as well. If the electorate were made up purely of idealistic 16 and 17 year olds, he would win York at a canter.

Since it isn't, he probably won't.

As for Andrew Waller, the Lib Dem candidate suffers from a crucial image problem. Despite being a leading member of a city council which is responsible for parking charges and other much-hated policies, Andrew talks a good deal of sense. His pledges on affordable housing; on an education system "based on ability, not ability to pay"; and on the environment and renewable energy all played well.

He even demonstrated that rare thing among serious politicians: a sense of humour.

But it is all spoiled by an unfortunate missing front tooth which, whenever he opens his mouth to speak, makes him appear a bit like chippy chipmunk. And, let's be honest, can you really imagine chippy chipmunk becoming the next MP for York?

Updated: 09:36 Tuesday, May 03, 2005