The Wellington mayor went out, not really in a blaze of glory yesterday, but more a fireball of misery and bitchiness. 

Tory Whanau is probably the local body poster child for ineptitude. She's given her bye-bye speech. 

She was a shambles. She may still be back, as she is standing in the Māori ward. 

She seems like a person who if she wasn’t in local politics, might have trouble finding work. 

She admitted, after it was too late, that she really should have done her homework before chasing the big mayoral job. 

She won because too many people stood for mayor and split the vote, so by the time you deal with the appalling turnout and split the vote several times over, you need not a lot of support to get a job you weren't even qualified for any way. 

But that’s local body politics, isn't it, at least at national level. Whether list or electorate, a group of experienced operators give you the once over. 

Locally literally anyone can have a go and that, if you haven't worked it out yet, is a problem. 

It wasn’t all her fault of course. A mayor is not a president and is but one vote. But a mayor's job shouldn’t be a "funsies" party trick because you are bored or unemployable. 

There were the personal issues. That is another problem in the lack of vetting. Some people are basically just a shambles and she is clearly one of those. 

That's not a crime, we all have issues. It's just advisable not to have them on display while you are trying to run things like a city. 

The city is pretty much a reflection of her leadership – a mess. 

Infrastructurally it's an embarrassment; level one water restriction when we are barely out of autumn, a devastated CBD and angst, fury and backstabbing having been a feature of decision making. That particular trait aired yet again in her farewell speech. 

We seem to be in an era where quality in so many parts of life has gone by the wayside. 

Tory Whanau is certainly an example of that. She came, she cocked it up, she flailed and flapped about like we were her psychologists as she aired her many and varied problems, then poof! She's off! Until she wasn’t. 

They, sadly, rarely are. 

But honestly, in a city of Kitts, Fowler, Belich (maybe even Wilde and Prendergast), ol' Tory is hardly one for the record books.