A phone call from Aiden, the owner of Walnut Café on West Hampstead Lane, alerted us that the Tories were invading. Boris Johnson was going to be answering questions; wouldn’t we like to come along and ask him some awkward ones?

It sounded too good to miss.

When we arrived at The Alice House pub there was a crowd of blue rosetted fans slightly outnumbered by local press photographers; cries of ‘Love me Boris!’ could be heard. This, and angry expletives from passers by shouting about traffic congestion.

Question time finished shortly after and a hooded member of the Commons party pushed through the crowds to give Boris an enthusiastic hug.

“I love bendy buses!”

“Oh. Do you? Ah. Well I suppose they’re alright, when they’re going. You can still find them in Sheffield.”

“Great, I’ll have to visit. By the way, Tamsin’s going to challenge for your Mayor of London position”, she said and handed him a Commons flyer.

“Oh really? Is Tamsin here?”

But that was all he had time for, as a burly security lady rolled her eyes and pushed Jess away.

Though the festivities had just begun; an elderly lady proudly produced a tray of 12 sparkly blue cupcakes adorned with David Cameron’s smiling face. She began handing them out to bystanders. Excitedly we extended our hands, only to be told,

“Oh no, I don’t think so! These aren’t for you – you’re Tamsin’s people!”

I guess in their ‘Big Society’ only the Tories get to eat cake.

A young Conservative who had approached to pick fault with our flyer smugly grabbed the largest cupcake, and proceeded to eat it greedily whilst exclaiming how delicious it was. Then she actually thrust it in our faces and contorted her expression to that of a bratty child. We watched in astonished silence.

“If you really want one, you can find them in Selfridges and Harrods”, the lady told us.

Once we’d recovered from the shock of such a shameless display, I remembered our Picnic the next day, and pulled out our colourful invites.

“Come along to our Picnic on Parliment Hill tomorrow, there’ll be cupcakes there too and you’re welcome to as many of them as you like. Can’t promise they’ll have David Cameron on them though.”

“Oh no, I can’t – I’ll be canvassing tomorrow”, Said the young Tory, refusing to take the flyer from my hand.

“I’ll come – once Chris has won!” injected the older lady, referring to Chris Philp, the local Tory candidate.

The encounter was interrupted by cheers as Boris set off on his bicycle, and Jess was almost knocked to the floor by a fan desperate to get a photo of him on his steed.

We retreated stunned, with the bitter taste of dirty party politics – and no sweet cupcakes – in our mouths.

Who would have thought that Kilburn High Road could be a happening place on a Sunday night, drawing 200+ music lovers from London wide?

Our ‘Party Politics Is Dead’ gig night took place at The Good Ship, an arts and music venue on the busy Kilburn High Road, a high street not frequently visited by non-locals.

A highlight of the location was that the local Labour HQ happens to stand directly opposite our chosen venue. This was a great way to encourage inter-party interaction, and some of the Labourers joined in the fun post a hard days work.

The idea of the night was to provide people access to homegrown talent which is on the rise. The result was amazing – a non pretentious and relaxed atmosphere – a far cry from the many ‘dress code’ music nights that seem to populate the London music scene.

The bands happily shared instruments, staying to watch each others performances and laying egos aside.

Lulu and the Lampshades started the night, using inanimate objects (including a type writer and tea pots) to create musical brilliance. One of the two key figures of the band was missing, but this had no effect on the success of the performance.

Next up was Harmony B, who played a fully acoustic set on a ukulele. The spontaneity of her performance was great, calling her girlfriend up on stage for a duet mid set.

The Hoodlums definitely bought an added air of excitement to the night – at one point the lead singer jumped the drum set, launching himself high above the crowd and unto an unused balcony. This happy hipster rock vibe got the crowd perfectly hyped for the finale of the nights bands.

The Joker and The Thief stole the show and the whole street. They began with a clearly improvised, slightly disjointed, poetic freestyle, including shout outs to Tamsin and The Commons. The singers voice and stage presence conjures thoughts of a young Tom Waits – slightly drunken and eccentric brilliance. The three man bands’ energy swamped the venue instantly – dancing and smiles spread all round. Their cover of ‘All Along the Watchtower’ sparked talk of outdoing Jimi Hendrix’ version – now there’s a huge compliment.

And in between all this we had our very own burlesque act, Miss Apple Tart, who took advantage of the political theme of the evening, playing on decadence, irony and making a mockery of our current political state.

We achieved exactly what we set out to, bringing free unadulterated fun to the usually quiet Sunday night Kilburn High Road atmosphere whilst paying respect to our abundance of local talent. The Commons are the perfect people to bring this free, community night of music to the public – now let’s make it a regular event!

Today has been the day when we got orange boiler suits to compliment our canvassing team. It has also been the day that I was nominated (officially) to be your PPC (prospective MP).

I hate paperwork. And bureaucracy. And redtape. The path to
Parliament is littered with these things and for the past week I
have been pulling out my hair. I’m probably not alone. For
Independent candidates up and down the country and for those
candidates who do not enjoy the support of a mighty Party machine, the
week when you have to get yourself nominated to stand as a PPC is full
of stress, and bureaucracy, and red tape.

The form is simple, except for the fact that you must find 10 people
who are happy to register you, who live in your constituency (for me
Hampstead and Kilburn), and who are definitely on the electoral roll.
It’s not a massive task but it is a fiddly one and it is also fairly
pointless. Having ten people who are happy to sign a piece of paper
to register you is a pointless endeavour.  I could’ve got mine from
ten strangers on the street or from ten hardened supporters of our
cause.  One way implies that your candidature already has grassroots
support.  Ours definitely has that, with yes – many more than ten
people, but filling in this form has been our week’s nightmare because
it needs someone to dedicate their time to getting those signatures.
It doesn’t imply support, it implies one poor team member being given
the achingly dull task of translating grassroots support into useful
signatures for a pointless form.

Bea Campbell, the Green candidate, was more sensible.  She took her
form to somewhere that she knew she would find a lot of registered
voters: a Hustings.  Whilst there she worked the crowd and gathered
her signatures.  At this point mine was sat with zero signatures on my
desk at home.  Bea even asked me to nominate here, which I duly did.
It wasn’t out of support or anything else.  It was just because I
recognised how annoying this form is and how necessary that we don’t
see it as anything more than a silly hurdle that we’ve gotta jump
before we can stand.  I helped her jump her hurdle which is not the
same as stating that I support her standing for Parliament.

I was called this morning by the Electoral Commission.  They were very
worried about my appearance on Bea’s ‘nominated by’ list.  I tried to
explain that it really didn’t matter to me at all - I was pleased to
sign it to flag up what an insignificant and onerous task it is to us
smaller parties.  I was more than happy to show that I support people
(Bea or anyone else) standing and am therefore happy to help them with
their paperwork.  The man from the Electoral Commission didn’t really
understand.  I suppose without these forms he’d be without a job.
He’s been in touch with Bea to ask that she find a less ‘compromised’
nominator, or one who has been on the electoral roll longer than a month… I don’t mind and I don’t suppose Bea does either, but yes there certainly is a lot of silly paperwork, and annoying costs to standing for Parliament.

At 4pm today the electoral offices will close and anyone who wanted to
register to vote or stand to be MP will no longer be allowed.  I know
it’s a drag and a massive turn off, but please do print off your
various forms and enjoy your democratic rights.

‘PUMP MY RIDE’ made me laugh, a lot…gathering on White Stone Pond, and the sun was out. We ripped up orange sheets to make flags whilst a pedal-powered soundsystem sang its lazy tunes.  People wondered past on their way into the Heath and we’d chat to them for a moment, warn them that in a little while, over 40 cyclists would be making good use of the Heath’s lone cyclepath. They laughed, looked at the tricycle in disbelief (‘that thing won’t last an hour on the Heath’) and carried on with their Saturday.

We’d gathered and it was time to set off.  Liz was in charge of Trike. Thirty or so cyclists weaved ahead and between whilst we tried to get Trike to obey his rider. We careered into the Heath, yelling ahead of us so that kids, mothers and dogs had a second to jump out of our way – thank God that we were on the cycle path. Trike had a sound system which was playing some choons which gave us a carnival feel but the music would skip over every bump (n.b the Heath is very bumpy).  

We did a fantastic job of not running over anyone and generally somehow making Trike keep to the cycle path and not disappear down some slope never to be seen again. When we finally left the Heath, Trike had had enough. ‘phfuuuuwizzzz’ is the noise of Trike’s right wheel exploding. Having survived the Heath terrain it seemed like such a pity to lock Trike up and continue on our route so we stopped, ate lots of ice-cream whilst two fine cyclists from Kentish Town did puncture repair. Trike was loving it – so proud to be so well looked after.

The heat poured down but we didn’t stop long. Our route was plotted and we were going to make it to The Lion in West Hampstead by dusk. Liz hopped off Trike, to give Jess a go. Jess powered Trike up the Royal Free Hill and from there it was downhill to West Hampstead.

I don’t know enough about tube works but I do know that I’m glad I’ve got my bike, and yes I will be campaigning for bike-friendly streets and more community involvement in the line closures. I don’t know much about volcanic ash. But if it means hot summers days in April and no planes overhead then can it be a good thing?  

On Sunday 11 April at 2pm over 500 people, representing the LBGT
communities, arrived at Tory Party HQ, 30 Millbank, to protest for equal rights. It wasn’t a group of activists, it wasn’t a group of party members, it wasn’t a lobby group. It was 500 (or more) individuals who know about the Tory record on gay rights and who had happened across a Facebook group entitled ‘The Big Gay Flash Mob’.

This is how it happened:

Last weekend, on Easter day, I read an article in the Observer. They’d found tapes of Chris Grayling (shadow Home Secretary) saying that he could quite sympathise with B+B owners who wanted to close their doors to gay people. Nice.

It got me thinking so I gave the Conservatives a little google. This is what their voting record (on gay rights) looks like: www.mygayvote.org. The more I read, the more revelations: MEP voting records, Cameron fluffing his Gay Times interview, it continued. And then that front page staring me in the face. I’m learning that the Tory party are still the Nasty Party and definitely not committed to equal representation.

So what do you do with this knowledge? Get depressed? Go back in the closet in preparation for a Tory government?

Or set up a Facebook event: The Big Gay Flash Mob.

And this is when democracy takes off (with a little PR cunning). We phone, email, pester Cameron’s office each day demanding that he comes out to tell us his stance on gay rights and why (oh why) he (still) hasn’t reprimanded (or sacked) Grayling for his back to Thatcher comments. David Cameron’s office ignores us. We social network like never before and suddenly over 25,000 people have been invited to our Facebook event. We get back in touch with David Cameron’s office.

Now that there’s 25,000 people’s worth of interest David is extremely accommodating. He can’t make a meeting but can offer us Michael Gove MP (shadow minister for homes, families and children). We politely decline. We need top-cheese. We need someone who can tell us how deep is this new, representative face of the Conservatives. And so he offers us his best buddy: George Osborne.

George Osborne is boring. Probably not after a couple of bottles of Champagne amongst the Bullingdon Boys. But in a small conference room in a corporate hotel behind Westminster – there he is as dull as you’d expect a Tory chancellor to be. Worryingly he doesn’t even seem to have intelligence on his side (which we’re probably going to need if we’re going to come out of the recession). Instead he seemed like he could not wait til he had power so that he wouldn’t need to indulge the electorate with meetings such as these. He doesn’t listen, he attacks, reacts and looks at some indistinct point in the distance. His skin is flabby (it might be haggard – I guess he’s pretty tired…) and his breath smelt like politician-breath (I’m getting used to it now – old coffee and too much talking gives them all the same smell).

We were hussled in by one of his press officers (I don’t remember his name but I know that he was Super-Gay – he even had an old Pride key-ring which he drew our attention, proudly, to). Around the table were some politicians and then Peter Tatchell, Deborah Grayson and I.

The meeting began. 50 minutes later and Team Flash Mob was none the wiser. ‘What are you giving us?’ Peter Tatchell asked. Osborne started shuffling paper again – ‘We’re going to be tough on homophobic bullying’ – ‘How?’ and then some more paper shuffling.

It’s a difficult issue. Of course it is. There is a group of people who believe they deserve equal rights: the same rights that are enjoyed by men, women, all ethnic minorities. And then there is a group of people (and a tradition) that believes these people have been given enough, and that to give them
more is pandering to political correctness, or something.

I don’t think that equality, written into legislation, is political correctness. I think it’s democracy at its best.

Theresa May (the other Tory MP at the table, and shadow minister for equality) disagreed. She doesn’t want equality for gays and she doesn’t think her party should be forced to vote for equality for gay people. Instead she believes that people have a right to their own opinions, homophobic or otherwise. I agree with her in that. But I also think that our government should enshrine some absolute values – and one of those is equal rights for all people. Theresa May, potentially our future equality minister, disagrees.

I could go on and on about that meeting. But it was boring and it makes me bored and depressed to think on it. That hotel room was all about self-importance, having a meeting so that the Tory press team could announce we’d had a good meeting. The streets where I expected to see the Flash Mob: that was going to be where I would find democracy.

A boy who came along wrote the below about our flash mob protest. It’s perfect. It’s how we, The Commons, want everyone to feel about democracy. It’s all we’ve got to offer Hampstead and Kilburn. And it’s everything.

d’Olly Verbiage – ‘After today i feel like i have finally broken out of my politically apathetic cocoon, and have really started to see the merit of my sacred vote. Thanks for this guys. It’s about time my generation woke up.’

Yesterday, Tamsin Omond and Peter Tatchell met in Westminster, to a pay a visit to the Conservative head quarters – David Cameron’s base.

They went to politely invite Cameron to his ‘coming out’ party – a large, gay pride styled street event that will be taking place this Sunday, outside Conservative HQ, making it very easy for Cameron to attend if he so wishes.

The day was a beautiful one for receiving such an invite – especially one as bright and sparkly as this – on bright pink card, with purple glitter and multi colored feathers making up the border. It sparkled in the sun as camera crews crowded around Peter and Tamsin, drawn in by the sudden color bought to usually dull location.

Peter and Tamsin explained to the news crews and other spectators why they are holding a coming out party for Cameron – not because of his sexuality, but because they wish for him to ‘come out’ on his gay rights stance, especially following the most recent Tory ‘B+B’ homophobia scandal.

The ‘Big Gay Flash Mob’ event has ballooned practically over night on Facebook – since being put up last Thursday, over 1000 people have been in touch showing their appreciation for the ‘gay pride’ and agreeing to attend entirely off their own accord. The event will be entirely shaped by the people who attend, whose voices as individuals need to be heard, and not by party politics and the negative attention that surrounds that. It will be a flamboyant, fun and entirely peaceful event – hopefully Cameron will be present to witness this.

Going out onto the streets of Kilburn is always good fun. It’s the kind of high street we have – always busy (to the point of hectic) and really alive.

So yesterday when VBS (Vice TV) said they wanted to film us out and about we took them to Kilburn (it rained, so we ended up under the Brondesbury Station bridge – not the most salubrious of Kilburn landmarks…)

Alec wore the sandwich board (finally I got a day off being the protable opinion poll). We’d written two questions – ‘Are you satisfied with the public health service?’ and ‘Have you ever had underage sex?’

Can you guess which got the most attention?

One woman, 76 years old, wrote ‘yes, 12 years’ – I guess they started earlier (or perhaps not) back then. A van loaded with a hocky team yelled – 5 for yes, 3 for no. We duly totted them up.

Our reason for choosing this question? Well last week Tim Loughton MP (same old Tory) said pregnant girls who are underage should be sent straight to prison – we wanted to find out if his draconian suggestions were a little out of touch with the realities of the modern high street. Turns out about 60% of the Kilburnites we asked belong in jail…

A friendly bobby from West Hampstead Police Station turned up to ask what we were up to. He was almost persuaded to own up to his sexual indiscretions before noticing that the VBS cameras were trained on him. No yes or no tick from Mister Policeman.

It’s odd taking to the streets, causing a bit of a stir and getting people chatting about the real life issues that affect them. It’s an odd thing for a politician to do and it’s everything that the Commons is about.

It’s an odd thing to return to a place after three years absence. When I worked as the pastoral assistant to a church in Belsize Park I put time aside to visit people who were otherwise alone. Some where I went each week was Windmill Court to see a guy named Red. Initially I’d gone there to teach him how to read and write but it soon became clear that he wasn’t too interested in that, he just liked to get a knock on the door and a chance to talk about the world he saw.

Today I went back to Windmill Court after more than three years of passing it on my bike and never dropping in. I guess that it’s hard in this fast moving world to keep times in the diary that’s just for visiting someone – not trying to network them, sell something to them, take something from them. Definitely since leaving the church, since stopping my work as pastoral assistant, I have let this part of my life in my community slip. And as I buzzed the various bells of Windmill Court waiting for someone to let me in I wondered whether Red would still be behind his door, or whether it belonged to someone else.

It was our first day of dedicated door knocking and we’d chosen to head to Windmill Court because of the people there that I used to know, both from my years as a 15 year old hanging out in places that my mum told me not to and from my community work. We knocked on every door, gave out some leaflets, answered questions and registered 12 new voters before, fairly exhausted, we arrived at Red’s door.

He was there, opened the door, had a different hair style (but I guess so do I) and a new scar on his face. He beckoned us in and put on a kettle. He’d heard about The Commons and was wondering whether he’d a get a door knock or whether, now that I was ‘into politics’, I’d lost interest in him. One of his mates laughed and with a Jamaican drawl agreed, ‘now she’s wanting to be on the backbench she’s gunna forget you and me – y’can be sure.’

Life has its pace and there’s just no doubt that moving through it means losing people along the way. Losing touch but not forgetting. All the doors we knocked on our way up to Red were new connections in my new role – The Commons candidate for Hampstead and Kilburn. When we were drinking tea with Red it was like two worlds met – the place that I’d come from and the place where I want to be. It felt cool that both put me in the heart of the community – with real people chatting about real life.

Daisy Lowe spent Thursday afternoon in Belsize Park, litter picking for the Commons.

Daisy, a 21 year old model, has been expressing her worries about our environment and community issues for some time, having attended this years G20 summit and been involved in ecological clothing campaigns.

Daisy contacted Tamsin Omond and The Commons to find out if she could help build a community where people from all walks are active in all aspects of local life. Daisy went to school in Hampstead and grew up in Camden.

Daisy said: ‘Young people need to be playing a bigger role in our society, that’s where the future lies after all. I love that people now have someone like Tamsin to look to as their role model. When the doo-doo hits the fan, I wanna be in Tamsin’s boat!’

The Commons are a new political party, dedicated to people not politics. The Commons intend to use new engagement forms and showcase democracy. They believe the only way to repair our broken politics is to open it up to everybody.

Tamsin, leader of the Commons, said,

‘Daisy seems aware that one person is not going to change the world, but she is willing to go as far as she can to play her part in this huge current issue. She wants to be part of the same community as you and I.’

I hated my first hustings. I wonder if you know what a hustings is. My spell check has no clue. Nor did the seventy plus people I asked on the streets of Hampstead and Kilburn yesterday. In politics they give every day things archaic names. Just like the House where they sit, the language they use is anything but open, transparent, a part of the real world. 

The Commons is something new, or maybe it’s just democracy renewed: the idea that when there’s a difficult decision to be made we’ll make better choices if we involve everyone. Authority isn’t inherited by an elite or ordained by God.  It belongs to everyone, and everyone has the right to speak and be heard. 

Yesterday, sat in the front row of my first hustings, I was left with the most massive despondency in my heart. I guess it’s because I’ve never engaged with politics, so I’ve never known how far it’s fallen from democracy.   

Let’s see if I can remember the heartache moments… 

Ed Fordham pointed out that Chris Philp was making ‘man about Hampstead and Kilburn’ spin, by claiming that 98% of his funding comes from individual donations. So Chris tricoloned him: ‘you have discredited your party, you have discredited politics and you have discredited yourself’…  A tricolon is when you begin three sentences with the same phrase. It doesn’t make what you say mean anything more but it ups its impact – pure rhetoric.

Glenda was fierce and I think I respect her a lot but her words were hot air. When asked why she’s always lived in Blackheath (12 miles from Hampstead) and rarely goes to Parliament she took recourse in the rules.  We all know about parliamentary rules: they let our politicians develop bad habits like claiming expenses on houses for their ducks. Few MPs broke the law over the expenses scandal. It was all just a part of the culture. Few bother to spend much time working for their constituency. It’s all just a part of the culture. 

Ed is a good guy, there’s no doubt about that.  

Beatrix is dead smart. 

The other guy was not an attractive option: UKIP, red faced and wrong. 

I have no doubt that Chris believes the Tories are changing, nor that Glenda has still got life in her yet.  But there are real challenges ahead.  Not intellectual challenges for the leaders, real life challenges that will make living difficult.   

It’s not enough to argue. It’s not enough to be ineffectual. If we don’t make a positive choice now then we will have missed our chance.  Drop into the office and meet The Commons – just do it, because we are building something worth voting for and you need to see it.