Here we are debating tonight just under 4 acres—1.6 hectares of land—that has been sitting vacant for about 15 years but, unfortunately, the council that owns it and would like to repurpose it, perhaps as much-needed housing, is unable to do so because a quirk in a quite elderly piece of legislation. We're here to rectify that. We are riding to the defence of Palmerston North. But what I'm really reading in this, as I characterise Mr Utikere as a sort of parliamentary Lone Ranger upon his horse dashing forth—and I'm definitely picturing Ms Boyack in a similarly heroic role—what I'm really loving about this, as someone who comes from another small town, is the love story we are seeing to Palmerston North. No longer is it the poor relation and often sadly mistaken rival to New Plymouth, and I stand here with the MP for New Plymouth to my right. But, of course, I always go to the left, and Mr Utikere is Palmerston North, and he sits to my left tonight. When I think about these small towns—New Plymouth, Palmerston North—the joke is: "Who remembers which one is which, other than their respective residents?" When I think about Whangārei, where I'm from, and I think about what I would refer to, and Ngāpuhi, as Whanganui, which of course is W'anganui—we often get mistaken as well—it is a point of sadness and soreness for us provincial peoples that the wonder and uniqueness of our little towns is not remembered.