Boris Johnson is not perfect. He has a sentimental attachment to Turkey, and silly hair. Some may not like his plummy accent, or think he's too much of a toff - a fop, even. Others mistake his jocular manner for lack of seriousness and commitment: he's a buffoon, they say.
But consider the alternative: Ken Livingstone. Red Ken never met a dictator he didn't like, has a sentimental attachment to mad mullahs and a nasal whine to set your teeth on edge. He really is a buffoon, but without the jokes. He is borderline anti-Semitic and will waste most of your money.
London readers, even if you're not keen on Boris, vote for him to get Ken out. If you don't vote, Ken may get in by default, as last time.
I have a soft spot for Boris, and any other public figure who adds, as he does, to the gaiety of nations. He puts his foot in it every now and again, but what a refreshing change that is from cloned politicians, permanently "on message". He has a fine intellect, which he wears lightly, and can be very witty. He cares about the important things, not just ancient history, but also those wretched bendy buses:
Alas, I don't think that current legislation would permit me to reintroduce the Routemasters as they were. But wouldn't it be wonderful if we could design a beautiful successor to the cyclist-killing bendy-bus, a 21st-century Routemaster?
Not only could bus drivers operate under new financial arrangements, with an incentive to hang on for passengers who are only inches away, but we would once again have a machine whose speed of embarkation and disembarkation was one of the miracles of London - and the waiting would be less inconvenient for the rest of the bus.
Someone once said that "only a ghastly, dehumanised moron would get rid of the Routemaster", and that someone, of course, was the man who got rid of it.
Will Londoners take him seriously? I hope so. I hope they have the sense to see beyond the jokes and the crazy mop. From The Times:
He kept making stabs at being serious. At one point, he actually quoted GDP figures. But then he would blurt out statements like this: “I see fantastic improvements on the London of my childhood. I would never have dreamt that you could go to a newsagent and buy mango juice. We had never heard of a Frappuccino.” Is that a slogan that can work? Mango juice for the masses? Frappuccinos not for the few but for the many?
He has lots of big ideas (none bigger than decoy bikes to catch thieves, though) and was scathing about Ken Livingstone and his dealings with Hugo Chávez of Venezuela. “You won’t catch me doing deals with left-wing dictators,” cried Boris, “which means that Venezuelan slum children are effectively subsidising Transport for London. I say that is completely Caracas!”
Caracas. ¡Ay caramba! It was a joke. The crowd went wild. Boris was immediately hit by pangs of guilt. “I reserve the right, by the way, in the course of this campaign, to make jokes!” he noted defensively. “But be in no doubt that I am deeply serious in this campaign.” Oh, I do hope not.
Back Boris. Now.
