imcrookonit
Ex Member
|
Second time proves tough for family man Fielding
Senator Steve Fielding in Cranbourne.
IT MUST have sounded like a voice from heaven. Steve Fielding campaigning in the taciturn battler belt of Cranbourne is having difficulty in his quest to find what matters to people in this election.
''Couldn't give a poo, mate,'' the response the sincere senator receives from a tough looking middle-aged man, is typical.
At the pedestrian crossing he encounters a young woman whose reply seems a gift: ''I think governments should put families first.''
Considering Senator Fielding is the first and possibly last elected representative of the party calling itself Family First, was this woman's remark scripted or just unexpected good fortune? It turned out to be neither.
The woman's name was Leah, she lived in the local area and worked for Centrelink. When Senator Fielding talked to her about housing, he was thinking about home ownership. When she responded, she was talking about people having to share a rental home with family or friends because they can't get into the market.
They talked for a while, then the senator went off to engage with a pensioner called Peter. When he had left, Leah revealed she would not be voting for him anyway, partly because she thought him too close to the religious right.
''Religion has no place in politics, I believe.''
Oh well, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
Senator Fielding knows he has an uphill battle to retain the senate seat he won surprisingly in 2004 after Labor strategists put him higher in its ticket of preferences than the Greens.
The man Canberra's political insiders call the "accidental senator'' was campaigning in Cranbourne and in Ringwood outside Eastland shopping centre. Along with these outer suburban areas he says he also finds a sympathetic ear in regional centres and earlier in the morning had been at Moe.
''It is in these normally safe Labor areas I get support. These are ordinary Australians and they feel they have been forgotten by the government.''
One couple he approached responded that they did not want to talk because they were "moving forward''.
But Ringwood was more sympathetic. He spoke to a group of schoolboys in Aquinas College uniforms and asked their concerns.
''More skate parks,'' chimed Mitch Barnes.
''Yeah more skate parks,'' echoed his mates. They were three years too young to vote.
He promoted his idea for a national alcohol commission to Margaret Stevens, who has been confined to a wheelchair for the past 10 years due to multiple sclerosis.
Her main concern, however, was the $15,000 cost of replacing her wheelchair, which keeps breaking down.
''You get a roadworthy on a car but not a wheelchair.''
The senator nodded sympathetically, then she volunteered a remark that was less than joy to his ears.
''That Bill Shorten [referring to Labor's ambitious parliamentary secretary for disabilities], he has done more to raise the profile of disabled people than anybody.''
|