It conjured up images of the back country farmer, early in the morning, hand firmly pressed to the small of his stiff back bending over the crank handle of the old Massey Ferguson and painfully trying unsuccessfully to kick it into action.
After the third go the old girl splutters, chugging forward with brief bursts of life, before finally giving up the ghost and fading, defeated.
That's what I could see when I was watching the ever so earnest ACT leader David Seymour on telly last night in Dancing with the Stars. In reality the stars are the professional dancers trying to coax their charges through an unfamiliar routine, dragging them around the floor while those of us anxiously await the final note.
Dancing for politicians should surely be above and beyond the call of duty. In this current round they're obviously doing it for the publicity, hoping that it'll rub off on their failing, or failed political careers.
You could feel for Seymour, each painful step he dragged himself through. This self- confessed nerd apparently draws up a step plan on his computer and like the engineer he is, executes it with what his mind tells him is precision but what we see as an out of control clodhopper.