Eva Bradley
It's often said that you can't please all of the people all of the time, but after listening to some of the criticisms directed at weather forecasters in the wake of Cyclone Cook, I'd also be inclined to add that you can't please Aucklanders any time at all.
Whipped into a fever of exhilarated anxiety over the threat of a record-breaking storm, Aucklanders battened down the hatches and prepared for the worst.
Flooding, power outages, traffic mayhem and general widespread misery across the metropolitan population were predicted.
And when it failed to materialise and socked it to the east instead? Well, heads must roll, of course.
Social media came alive with posts by Aucklanders feeling short-changed because the promised punch wasn't delivered.
Radio hosts pontificated about what level of accountability weather experts should have for predictions that didn't quite come true and headlines asked what went "wrong" with the forecasting.
It seems in Auckland the only crime worse than increasing house prices is a disaster that doesn't deliver.
Perhaps I'm being unfair suggesting that complaining is the prerogative of big-city dwellers only. We all like a good whinge now and again, right?
But it does seem that these days you can't pick up a paper or look at a news feed without seeing significant column inches devoted to the hardships endured by those inhabiting our biggest city.
Their traffic is the most congested, their weather the most unpredictable, their cultural challenges the most confronting and don't even get me started about their house prices.
To top it all off, they get promised a doozy of a storm and then it doesn't happen.
Yes, Auckland, it sucks to be you right now, we get it.
But in the time-honoured tradition of "do something about it or shut up", I've heard enough.
It seems to me as though most Aucklanders just love to hate Auckland.
Contrarily, though, most of them would be horrified at the thought of living anywhere else.
Aucklanders see the rest of the country much like a teenage girl sees (or doesn't see) the geeky, socially awkward guy with glasses standing alone at the edge of the dance floor at the school ball.
Seduced by the big city's bright lights, brash confidence, fast ways and swaggering slew of fancy restaurants and expansive shopping, it's not until they are pushed to the forlorn fringes of distant suburbs by mortgages higher than the Sky Tower that they realise the Auckland of their youth has turned into the fat, balding guy with back hair, while the disco geek has done a Zuckerman and metamorphosed into a paradise of quarter-acre sections, sunshine and free parking.
If you're an Aucklander reading this right now, you'll probably dislike me. But since I'm not from Auckland the chances are you already do anyway.
You might wonder why I'd choose to take issue with one-third of New Zealand's entire population. I suppose I wonder that myself.
And the truth is I'm just a bit fed up with the hard-luck stories (mostly related to housing affordability and transport) that seem to be dominating the New Zealand psyche, when in fact two-thirds of the population face different problems, or no problems at all.
We all know the loudest bird gets the worm, so maybe it's time for the majority of New Zealanders living in the smaller but collectively more populated places outside the big smoke to raise an index finger to our lips and give Aucklanders a big "shush" before I inadvisedly lift my middle finger instead and tell them to stop complaining.