Even when the outcome of an event seems certain, things can still go wrong

He or she failed to specify which millennium, so in theory this procrastinating little rock has another 990 years to deliver the goods. Last week yet another round of public consultation was launched by the latest highly paid UK experts commissioned to deliver the latest in a very long line of grandiose public schemes.

States Members and their minions like nothing better than public consultation. It pays lip service to the principles of democracy and gets civil servants out of their air-conditioned offices to give the illusion that something is at last going happen. A glance at the calendar should shatter any such expectations.

Come the end of their grandes vacances, the inmates will return to what for many will be the final term. There are elections in the autumn next year and electioneering starts once they have dried off their surfboards, packed away their buckets and spades and tied their floating gin places safely to a marine pontoon.

Over the coming months we can look forward to a flurry of concerted activity to raise the profiles of vote chasers, while the government of the Island takes second place.

That is the problem, you see, with three-year terms of government whereby decisions made in the winter of an administration are revisited by the novices whose elevation to political office kicks the old timers into touch. If our beloved politicians do one thing exceedingly well, and with decisive panache, it is turning over old ground.

How amazing to think that this kick-start of the long-overdue park was not due to the dynamism of a political saviour intent on pushing through the project, but an ordinarily inanimate ring-binder file landing on the very button which its owner, Senator Alan Maclean, was at pains to avoid.

It just goes to prove that the old English proverb ‘there’s many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip’ still rings true today. As we taxpayers know from bitter experience, even when the outcome of an event seems certain, things can still go wrong.

I do wonder how many people will bother to drop in as the town park consultation bandwagon lumbers from parish to parish. Its purpose is to ascertain exactly what Islanders want from the park. For my part, I would like it to be fashioned in the style of the interior of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

The focal point should be a giant chocolate fountain fed by a central stream of liquid indulgence on which people could ride in swan basket boats made from rock candy with sponge seats.

There should also be tributary streams of chilled elderflower cordial and home-made lemonade for children which miraculously transforms into champagne and chilled sauvignon blanc after the 9 pm watershed in the summer, and mulled wine in winter.

The park should be dotted with a variety of trees bearing sweets, liquorice allsorts and fresh, sweet fruit, all replenished every day. A singing-ringing tree would also be lovely in a quiet shaded corner reserved for contemplation and prayer.

A permanent rainbow should fall in the north-east of the park, bang centre in a pot filled with an endless supply of gold coins. A couple of unicorns would not go amiss, skipping and frolicking in an ancient woodland glade overlooked by whatever replaces the Odeon building, where fairies and gentle-natured goblins gather before first light to make necklaces from children’s teeth collected overnight from under youngsters’ pillows.

Fanciful? Yes, and much like the idea of this current House delivering the Millennium Park by the time they head for the hustings.

I long ago realised that politicians, no matter how important or self-important, are mere mortals and no different from you and me. The one thing that divides us is that they possess the bravado and gall to stand for election.

On that basis, we really should understand when they (or their items of stationery) get things wrong or they fail to live up to the heady expectations of election-winning rhetoric.

Cast your mind back, dear reader, to November 2008 and the world-changing election of the first black President of the United States of America. Less than two years later, the dream is shattered and the search is on for a new resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Obama’s abysmal handing of the oil spillage in the Gulf of Mexico has shown him to be an ordinary man whose over-reaction and hounding of BP has been proved to be over the top and scaremongering – as predicted by some at the outset.

His reaction not only ruined the lucrative summer season for the tourism-dominated economies of the southern states, but it also hit you and me by knocking value off BP shares and consequently our pension pots.

The billions of pounds BP has poured into the clean-up operation have been successful in conjunction with Mother Nature’s forces to dissipate the oil to save in large parts not just Florida’s golden beaches, but also the precious wetlands of Louisiana.

It shows that Sir Humphrey was spot-on in the BBC political sitcom Yes Minister when he remarked: ‘Politicians must be allowed to panic. They need activity. It is their substitute for achievement.’

Let’s hope Obama doesn’t have an errant ring-binder filer close to the most important button in the world.