Exciting, isn’t it?
We get a new council this week, all dressed up and ready to learn their way into the wonderful world of bureaucracy.
Well, I suppose it’s all sort of new. There’s a guy who’ll be the mayor who was telling people for years he wanted to be mayor, and was actually deputy mayor until someone must have realised he was talking too much.
So they told him he needed to step aside for a while to give the real mayor more of the limelight until the real mayor determined that he’d had enough.
Then the real mayor, who was rumoured to be grooming the new mayor to take over his position after the real mayor’s retirement, apparently had a change of heart.
Instead of anointing the man we all thought was being prepared for the job, the real mayor instead put his support behind a challenger.
Meanwhile, the would-be mayor, who is now the new real mayor, was still steering policy on some of the important things in our fine land – issues like development and growth.
So while he was technically laying low, the new mayor was talking up some big issues, which would later form part of his policy to win the top job in office.
Uncanny, but welcome to politics.
Such are the dramatic swings and roundabouts of a complex game that we find ourselves with that guy now in charge.
So, it’s true. He’s sort of new, but not really new. If you know what I mean.
It’s a bit like taking the extra piece of meat you cooked from last night’s meal to include in the next day’s salad.
It’s still the same meat, just not the hero of the dish any more.
Although I guess I’ve got that the wrong way around. The salad topper has become the focal point of the plate.
Or last night’s meat’s gone and we’re going with prawns on our salad instead. Whatever.
Of 12 councillors, 10 will be familiar faces.
With one retirement and the position left vacant by the new chief due to his progression through the ranks, we have two new faces.
That’s it. Of 13 positions on council, we have the same old dish with a sprinkling of unfamiliar garnish.
A bit like the pub meal that now has some radish sliced into the greens and a few leaves of coriander to give it a facade of freshness.
I wouldn’t like to be taken out of context here. That’s the way we like it. Familiarity.
In fact, I’m not sure why we took the time on March 6 to join a voting queue at a polling station with no sausages and in most cases, nobody to damn well vote for.
Because in half of the places we’re supposed to see members of the public give a hoot about their local division, they thought “never mind, that person likes what they’re doing – we’ll just keep letting them do it for a while longer”.
After all, the salary is only $130,000 out of the ratepayer’s budget to keep a councillor fed and watered.
And those who’ve had some time in the paddock before will be able to continue on their merry way as we grow faster than any other city in this great land.
They’ll have a word in the ear of the noobs to let them know that nothing happens too fast around here, and that their worldly ambition will have to be curtailed somewhat, “just until we get our ducks lined up”.
They’ll dig deep into their bag of cliches to ensure they’ve properly stroked the egos of those they feel will make their days enjoyable and their nights free of pests who don’t understand that after hours is not the time to be complaining about potholes.
Let’s hope that once their pledge to office has been made that they remember us – the ones who are paying their way – and work out a few ways we too can enjoy our days safely, efficiently and creatively.
Because, you see, that’s how it works. A sprinkling of salt, some new sauce, and a seasonal garnish.
Hey Wanda, I’ve got a taste for schnitzel. Want to head down to the club tonight?
