Sunday, 18 April 2010

Wooing Wolverhampton

The sun was beating down when we arrived in Wolverhampton and headed for the perfect soapbox spot in the centre of town. You have to hand it to the Labour Party's regional teams - they are in the decidedly unglamorous (if anything about this is glamorous) engine room end of the operation dealing daily with incoming ministers and their bag carriers. So you can forgive them for their hearts sinking when they are told by glib spad: "He'll have his soapbox. It's all he needs. You don't have to worry about the visit." But the West Mids team were just brilliant.

It was fairly quiet when we arrived, but by the end - see below - a good sized crowd had gathered, enlivened greatly by the lady who bowled up, announced that she was 84 and that there was - to paraphrase - nothing very good about the Conservatives. Not stage-managed, I promise.

All best wishes in particular to my mate Emma Reynolds, a former spad swapping bag carrying, for, she hopes, Parliament.

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