In 1978 in Wellington, the artist Barry Thomas planted 180 cabbages on a vacant lot downtown. When they grew, they spelled the word "cabbage". Today, in several parts of Auckland, you can find trees, flowers and veges planted on the berm, while colourful knitted sleeves keep turning up on all sorts of posts and poles around town.
Nobody has permission to do these things. They're all tactical urbanism, original styles: people just getting out and doing it. It's how it has to be, because if you do ask permission, they'll just say no.
Despite that, officialdom has moved in on the action: Te Papa bought the photographic record of the cabbage patch and "tactical urbanism" is now an official transport policy. Waka Kotahi even has a tactical urbanism handbook, telling local authorities how best to reconfigure a street with planters, picnic furniture, paint and whatever.
Food trucks, ciclovias, Paris Plages and the dots painted on Shortland St are all examples of official tactical urbanism. They're all good and we should have a lot more of it.
But there's still a place for just doing it. In Britain and America, there are people who spend their lives planting silverbeet and wildflowers in places where they're not supposed to. They're called guerrilla gardeners and there's a New Zealand movement of them too. Authorities despair; locals are often delighted.
Best tactical urbanism ever? Pointing hairdryers at speeding cars to slow them down is pretty good.
But how about the Plunger Revolution? It started in New York, where a group of guerrilla bike activists called the Transformation Dept have been sticking rows of toilet plungers to the street, to make it safer to cycle on. The Yellowbrick Street Team has done the same thing in Wichita, Kansas.
And the idea has spread to Omaha, Nebraska. There's a story that Google was thinking of setting up a new headquarters in the city, but when the boss went to have a look, he decided against it while he was still driving in from the airport. He'd spotted something: there were no bike lanes.
Omaha lost a massive economic opportunity because the council was too scared of motorists to cater for cyclists.
One night after that, some of those cyclists went out and stuck 120 toilet plungers to the road. It didn't last, but it didn't need to. The council relented and Omaha now has its first bike lane.
Humour and direct action: they just can't flush it away.
Design for Living is a regular series in Canvas magazine.