So says Dudley Moore’s character in the 1990 film, Crazy People.

He’s an ad-man who goes bonkers and creates honest adverts. Jaguars are for men who want hand-jobs from beautiful women. Volvos are boxy but good.

The comedy comes when his ads mistakenly go out. And guess what, the public – sick and tired of being patronised – loves them.

The reason Nick Clegg is suddenly sexy is that we aren’t tired of his message. He can come across as untarnished. It feels like he hasn’t tried to tell us that Volvos are beautiful. It feels like he’s telling it how it is.

He isn’t, of course. But it feels new and refreshing. It feels like change.

Change is the big issue in this election. Not just because we’ve had Labour for 13 years. But also because the politicians let themselves down over expenses. Oh, and we’re not overjoyed by Iraq and Afghanistan.  Oh, and we’d quite like to pull ourselves up and out of this recession.

There is a lot to want to get away from.

So he who sets himself up as the agent of change – be it Cameron or Clegg – is going to look attractive. Very, very attractive.

This is a problem for Labour. Throw in an unglamorous leader, and you don’t need yougov to predict voting intentions.

The irony is that the nation has not rejected Labour values. It just wants change. It’s change, stupid.

What can Labour do?  Here’s one answer.

Tell it how it is.

So far, Labour has deployed two broad manoeuvres.  It has defended its record. (Excellent on so many fronts, when you look at it.  Except no one will.)  And it has inculcated fear, asking people to imagine – as it did recently at a ‘flash-forward’ press conference – life under a heartless and crass Tory regime.  (“You want change?  Be careful what you wish for.”)

Those two strategies won’t be enough. They’re old politics. Old politics have been discredited. My fifteen-year-old son, Dan, says, a la Groucho Marx, that he would never vote for anyone who put themselves up for election. That is where the nation is at.

What Labour must do is acknowledge the public’s cynicism. Accept it. And, finally, adopt it.

Labour must concede that politicians make mistakes.  Then they try to dodge the flak that follows.   Politics is a slippery business.

To admit that, in the past, has meant certain death.

But these days, it’s death either way; no one in their right mind would vote for a politician.

So let’s not ask the electorate to vote for politicians.  Instead, let’s ask them to vote for values.  Let’s say ‘Look, we’re not great, but our values are decent.  We’re not heroes, but we’re strong on a managed recovery.  We’re not pretty, but we’re solid.”

Or, in other words, “We’re boxy – but we’re good.”