I guess throwing one's hat in the ring for a place on a council is kind of like trying to sell a car.
Where one approaches prospective customers with a smile and a sort of "this is what I can offer you" stance.
It's almost traditional.
As is the wording, for these aspiring councillors have to sum up what is effectively their sales pitch in a simple few words.
I've never really been inspired to take to a local body table but if I were to dabble in that arena I'd cut to the chase and use the theme "vote for me ... I'll never front up but I'll take the dosh".
Which of course sums up exactly why I have no place in local body politics.
Somebody has got to do it and that somebody has to be committed to their task for they are steering the course of a city or a region, and that equates to public pressure when the "issues" turn heavy.
I could only consider taking a place at the table if the village, town, city or region I was elected to represent was completely finished and required no further work or services.
Which, again, sums up exactly why I have no place in local body politics.
I do, however, take it all in and have thoughts and opinions on things, as we all do.
And one thing I do not adhere to is the old saying that "you can't fight city hall", because you most certainly can.
Which is another reason why I would have no place in that arena.
I don't like a fuss.
Also, the council meeting times often appear to interfere with Tipping Point and The Chase, so no dice.
But if I had a hat I would take it off to those who decide to stand and take the public stage ... and share their wide smiles with every passing motorist.
They are on front lawns of peoples' properties in many cases, and as well as inhabiting the cityside are equally spread out across the countrysides.
And they'll be there for a while yet.
It is important to have devoted people on councils and things and important that we all have a say in deciding who should be our voices ... although at times it seems some things get done without that most important ingredient ... public consultation.
Mind you, we're lucky we don't live in places like Venezuela and a couple of lands whose names I can't even pronounce let alone spell.
Places where "they" (the bosses) decide who gets voted for and who doesn't.
The vote-counting processes in these place verge on becoming a political sitcom.
There was one recent case in one such land where a few weeks after all the counting had been done it was discovered it hadn't ... dozens of boxes of uncounted votes were found on a parked-up train somewhere.
Brilliant.
Oh and please, never ever make the decision to get the voting side of things carried out online.
Why not?
One word ... census.
And when you cast your important votes, smile, that's all part of the deal.
On a different note, another grand old clipping from the past (1930) has emerged and it is about what should open on Sundays and what should not.
In this case a "deputation" of church ministers up in the Thames district wanted the council to consider locking up swings and other playing apparatus on Sundays.
"It was of importance for the sanctity of that day that playthings should be denied to the children," they declared.
They said the churches had their work to do in the Sunday School and the park was "a great temptation to the young folk".
After a councillor said swings and slides were harmless, the leader of the ministers group said while such activities were not immoral they could be "the thin edge of the wedge that could lead to worse things".
The council unanimously resolved that no action would be taken.
Ooh, the power of a council.
• Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.