We need to stop losing sleep over this local body election business. Here's some advice which may end the torment.
Firstly, you have to realise that ''local bodies'' refers not to organisations like councils, boards and whatnot, it refers to actual people.
The bodies you meet locally. It is based on the Athenian definition of democracy which is much along the lines of being represented by people you actually know. The theory is that, by sitting in a bar in the Octagon for a few days around election time you will probably be approached by all the candidates.
Some may offer to buy you a drink which you should accept in a true democratic spirit. This physical contact with the candidates is what true democracy is all about, even if it means shaking hands or warmly hugging those of the opposite sex. (Or the same sex, perhaps, although we are so far spared the complication of candidates standing on a sexual-orientation platform).
The Central Ward for the Dunedin City Council has 35 candidates of all sexes standing for 11 places and the nightmare you've been facing in selecting your First Eleven may be over, if you follow my method. Pity New Zealand Cricket can't use it.
How many of the 35 do you actually know? In my case I know two of the candidates well. They are good people with no criminal records and I've known them for 20 years. So, they'll get my vote. Sadly, it would be good to rank many more than just 11, but that's all I can manage for now. Luckily the Number 2 candidate will never know what ranking I gave.
Nine more to find. There are three candidates I know well enough to hold a five-minute conversation with.
''How's the family? I see your daughter got off that drunken-driving charge.''
You know the sort of thing. So those three may or may not get a tick.
Six to go. There are three I know to the, ''Hello, ummm. We must have lunch some time'' level. Maybe worth voting for? Probably not.
The rest I've never heard of. So, at best I've managed is to find about four or five candidates I could vote for and actually know something about them.
But then, you cry, I could sort out some more possibilities by reading the candidates' profiles in the little booklet (which we hope was printed in Dunedin).
In their brief policy statements most candidates are making promises so it is important to be aware that there are two types of promises.
Type A is the sincere promise. Perhaps the vows made at your wedding, or the implied promise made when you sign a hire purchase contract for the 80-inch TV set. That you later get divorced or are thrown into the Milton Hilton for defaulting on your payments does not alter the sincerity of the promises at the time they were made.
Type B promises are political promises. They are never intended to be honoured and thus usually stray into the realms of fantasy.
''A thousand new jobs for Dunedin!'' promises one candidate, ''Cycle lanes from Balclutha to the Remarkables!'' from another and ''A decent breakfast for every kid in the country!'' shrieks a third. We know nothing will come of these promises, but as they are made during a political campaign, no blame is heaped on the candidate when the miracles never happen.
Having dismissed the promises as eyewash, you will look for guidance in other parts of the candidate profiles. Sadly, they are simply exercises in gobbledegook and meaningless generalisations.
These words appear most frequently in the profiles: positive, change, responsibility, vibrant, growth, optimise, challenges, embrace and commitment are just a few. No-one has actually written, ''Let us go forward together to a greener sunlit upland,'' but they may as well. Of course, substantial councillor salaries are never mentioned.
So, there it is. Vote for those you actually know. And among those, for people who will get good things done. You see the problem. Councillors, good or bad, don't really have any power. Yet we don't want to swap democracy for dictatorship, do we? Impossible situation. Overwhelmingly so, and your sleepless nights will continue.
Maybe we should start to sort it all out by asking a small question about a small thing?
''When you are elected, as well as finding a cure for the common cold and devising a means of halting global warming, will you ensure that in the midst of the wailing and gnashing of teeth about the job losses at Hillside, Invermay, the Post Office and the hospital kitchens, you as a councillor will ensure that Dunedin city votes are no longer taken to Christchurch to be counted?''
Jim Sullivan is a Dunedin writer and broadcaster.
