This should be fun to write.

I’ve saved the last item from our newspaper of a few days ago, knowing it had to furnish material for this blog but waiting for the moment. That moment has arrived. It has to do with the 3 candidates for Kenner mayor. Not a pretty thing.

The other two items are from today’s Times-Picayune, one regarding a Saints football player, a free agent, who wants to stay with the team but is “not feeling love from the front office,” and the other pertains to a candidate for city council in Kenner.

Let’s take care of the last one first. It’s the simplest.

The two candidates for this council post are compared side by side, ages, background, etc. I don’t know either, but since I live in River Ridge and not Kenner, that’s all right. What struck me was the company one of the candidates owns.

“Bill and Jerry Investments, Inc.” That’s the name of his company.

Now, I’ll buy Ben and Jerry ice cream. I’ll watch Tom and Jerry cartoons. But invest my hard-earned savings with Bill and Jerry Investments? I dunno. Sounds shaky to me. I’d be more comfortable if they used last names.

It reminds me of the time I flew Jet Blue airlines. I wanted the attendants to act more professional, and not spend their time playing games in the aisles with passengers. The short pants and polo shirts they wore didn’t inspire my confidence, either.

I sat in a meeting Tuesday night with the board members of Global Maritime Ministries and noticed the new executive director of New Orleans Baptist Association, Dr. Duane McDaniel, sitting there in his suit and tie. Now, he’s a classy guy and would look distinguished in a tank top and gym shorts. And maybe it’s just me, but I like the way he presented himself. He looked professional.

The next time you see a pastor running around in ragged jeans and flip-flops, ask yourself what kind of confidence he inspires in you.

Second item. The disgrunted Saints player.

Darren Sharper is a hero around here among WhoDats. Last year, this all-pro safety intercepted 9 of the opponents’ passes and ran 3 back for touchdowns. For you non-football-fans, an interception is a game-changer. Several times this year, Sharper stepped up and salvaged games for our team, contributing greatly to this championship year.

Sharper made $1.7 million last year. Not exactly chump change, but he feels he’s worth a lot more. And since he’s now a free agent, at liberty to peddle his services elsewhere, he would like the Saints to show more interest in keeping him here. And to pay for the privilege, of course.

The headline across the top of today’s Times-Picayune reads: “Darren Sharper: The Saints Haven’t Shown Me the Love.”

Let’s see how to put this.

The Saints fans adore the guy. When he appears at a sports store to autograph NFL material, the lines go out the door.

But in his mind, “the Saints” are not the fans. The “Saints” are the front office. That would be the coach and general manager, the people who offer the dollars and the contracts. And Sharper is feeling slighted.

Do we dare tell him the truth? At age 34, he doubtless knows it now: football is a business.

Just because you had a big year and helped the team win all the marbles does not mean what you think it should at the bargaining table.

I notice in this morning’s paper that Nomar Garciaparra just signed a one-day contract with a Red Sox farm team, then turned around and retired. He wanted to go out as a member of the team where he made his mark and was so beloved by Sox fans.

I’m betting no money was involved. Front offices are notorious for casting off players who have given their heart and soul for a team but who are beginning to reach the advanced age of–gasp!–34. (Sharper’s age. Garciaparra is much older. He’s 36.)

The funny thing about this business of age is that if your church called a pastor who was 36, some would criticize the decision because he is too young.

Now, on to the last item, the one I’ve saved.

The city of Kenner, Louisiana, a New Orleans suburb of perhaps 80,000 souls, abutting the larger municipality of Metairie, will elect a new mayor on March 27. Three candidates are vying for the job: Louis Congemi (who is also a former mayor of Kenner), Phil Capitano (ditto), and Mike Yenni, a youngster with limited experience but a great family history.

Louis Congemi served as a councilmember in Kenner, then put in 8 years as mayor before moving on to the parish council. His big brother Nick was the longtime police chief in Kenner.

Phil Capitano served as mayor for only 2 years (2004-2006) before being beaten in an election by the present mayor, Mr. Muniz.

Mike Yenni, age 37 I think (too old for the NFL), has never held elective office but served the present and past mayor in various capacities. What makes him a viable candidate is his grandfather Joe Yenni was a highly respected mayor (and has a boulevard named for him) and his uncle Mike Yenni (both Yennis are deceased) was likewise a popular local politician. The parish government building is named Yenni. If you live in Kenner and carry that name, you’re going to get a lot of votes.

But each candidate has a major flaw.

With Louis Congemi, it’s his health. Recently, he was hospitalized with pneumonia and his wife Mildred told a gathering that he was pulling out of the race for health reasons. He never did officially, and now declares he’s back in.

With Phil Capitano, it’s money problems. In 1989, he took bankruptcy, and it looks like he might have to again. A local bank is suing him for $212,000, saying he hasn’t made a payment on his home in six months.

Capitano admits to diverting $25,000 of his personal money into his political campaign instead of paying on that note. No doubt he feels if he can regain the mayor’s office, he’ll have a nice income and can hold fund-raisers and pay off the house. Is this irresponsibility? or simply a business decision?

And then we come to Mike Yenni. Which was not his name originally.

He was born Michael Maunoir, but when his mother divorced his father, he chose to change his name to her maiden name, Yenni. His mother and the original Mike Yenni were siblings.

Yenni says he took that name 12 years ago, long before deciding to run for office. Okay. If you say so.

It gets worse.

On his website, Mike Maunoir Yenni says he previously served as “Director of Communications with the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office.” That has a nice ring to it.

Problem is, there is no such position.

This, we now discover, was only one of several whoppers put forth by Mr. Yenni. In a former position as “director of the Jefferson Parish Citizens Affairs Department,” he claimed to oversee “the departmental operating budget of $116 million dollars.” It turns out he was high by some $115 mil.

That department had a budget of a little over one million.

Again, on his website he says he developed “an emergency plan that would coordinate efforts among all departments in emergencies or catastrophes.”

Maybe he did. However, Mr. Capitano, the mayor under whom he served, begs to differ. “He was never involved in the projects he claims. In fact, when I took office he was in charge of the city scrapbook.”

Pow. Take that!

Capitano says Yenni is an untried novice who has spent his entire life on the public payroll and took the revered name of Yenni only to enhance his candidacy.

Capitano himself has spent 16 years on the public payroll. He claims, however, to be a successful businessman who has worked in the rough and tumble workaday world. The reality of all this is he is asking the voters to put into the mayor’s office a man who has shown an inability to handle his own financial affairs.

Columnist Drew Broach says the choices facing Kenner voters is “a fibber vs. a deadbeat.”

If we add Congemi back into the mix–and this week he’s decided with Capitano and Yenni cancelling each other out, he stands a good chance of getting elected–then it becomes a choice between a fibber, a deadbeat, and a sick man.

If you are the pastor search committee and find that all your candidates are unqualified, you toss out the whole bunch and start over. But what do you do when you are the voter and all the candidates are unqualified?

Louisiana faced that dilemma in 1992 when Edwin Edwards and David Duke met in a runoff for governor. Duke was a former KKK leader and Edwards a former governor notorious for his swagger, his live-in girlfriend, and his crooked cronies.

The bumper stickers that year read: “Vote for the crook,” referring to Edwards.

That’s how Edwin Edwards came to be elected. Before long, he was taking money under the table for awarding contracts for gambling casinos. Now, past 80 years old, he is on the last leg of a large prison sentence for racketeering.

“None of the above” seems to be a good choice for mayor in Kenner this year.

But then what would we do for a government? Answer: do without. We’ve tried the other ways; what would be wrong with giving this a try for a while?