Richard Baum

I have spent this breezy weekend leafleting in various parts of the ward, and not doing much else. That my life crumbles to nothingness the moment Tamsin leaves me is as much a testament to her qualities as it is to my inability to make friends. She is in France and so, leaflets aside, my companions at the moment are this computer and the television downstairs, with its litany of pointless channels. Yesterday there were humans involved as well, and there probably will be tomorrow too. But today, oddly, they were all doing other things, and I pottered about here like a lonely old man.

And now I feel guilty for not doing something worthwhile with my time today, like reading a book. Weighty tomes loom down on me from the bookcase, whispering “great men read serious works” whilst I thumb through the pictures in the Tommy Cooper biography, try not to notice that Barack Obama’s book is there just waiting to be started, and not even bother with either in the end. ”Gladstone didn’t spend his spare time watching Sky Sports News” they intone. And they’re right.

I received a call today from a resident, who asked me to do something which I am not entirely comfortable doing.

He lives on a quiet road which also serves as the route for an hourly bus. And he wants me to ask if I can divert it so that it goes down the next street instead. Apparently it shakes the ornaments in his living room as it goes past, and he’s not happy. I know where he lives, because we’ve spoken on his doorstep. I know that the view from the back garden of his house is so spectacular, perched overlooking the Irwell Valley for miles as it is, that if I lived there I wouldn’t care about buses. But he is obviously used to the view, and does care. And so now I have to too.

Now, I have no objection to asking the bus people to consider moving the bus route. The way the streets pan out in this particular location means that there is a perfectly acceptable alternative route 50 yards away which will make no difference to the journey, and all the difference in the world to this man. But obviously it will make precisely the opposite difference to the people on the next street who are suddenly lumbered with a bone-shaking introduction to bus travel every hour. Is this fair on them, I wonder? And will one of them ring me up and ask me to move the bus back where it came from? What should I do then?

Issues like this arise from time to time. Residents ask for things which I think are a bit odd or impractical, or which I know will annoy as many people as they please. I pass on these requests, because I was elected to be an advocate for people, and advocate their wishes I shall. But I was also elected as a community leader - as someone to cut through the issues to find the solutions. And there are few solutions that please everybody. So what should I do? Do I carry on passing on the requests, or do I turn round and say that, since I am just as much the Councillor for the bus-haters as I am for the people living quite peacefully free of buses, that my man should fight this war on his own?

After all, for every resident delighted that the bus is re-routed, there’s another one after my blood for cursing them with a bus. For every householder singing my praises for getting parking restrictions imposed, there’s another one sticking pins on things with my face on them for stopping their right to park. And for everyone pleased about this week’s bollard (myself included), there is an angry man who’s crashed into that bollard and now wants to uproot it and throw it through my window.

These issues are tough calls. And they’re so local that they’re pifflingly small-fry compared to exactly the same types of issues facing the national politicians every day of their lives. And at least when I tinker with a local bus route I don’t have the Daily Mail calling me a butcher whilst the Guardian calls me a saint.

So, the leader/advocate thing is a dilemma. At the moment I am advocating. And if it turns out that I have to advocate for both sides of the same argument, then I suppose I will have to leave logic behind for the good of the ward, and carry on regardless. I think it might be different on the bigger issues. I think maybe when it comes to taxes and housing and Europe and the NHS, maybe politicians should stop saying “yes” to everyone and act more like leaders than advocates. But for me and my bus route, I don’t think picking an argument is the best way forward.

And besides, I comfort myself with the fact that no matter how many people I annoy whilst trying to do the right thing, it doesn’t really matter because there’s a 70% chance they won’t be voting anyway.

Which, of course, is a whole different depressing ball game.

Rick