They must also, because of our system, become specialists in public relations - shaking hands and kissing babies.
But there are some differences in the jobs of mayors of large cities and those of small cities and towns. Though politics in a small community can be just as exciting and frustrating as in large cities, there are some political situations that can be more complex in small Utah towns.
First, when a person is running for mayor of a small town, phrases like "cousins," "hunting buddies," "family name" and "slow-pitch softball team" can have more pull than phrases like "political ideology," "party affiliation," "campaign spending" and "agenda."
Small-town mayors are expected to have a full-time occupation to support themselves and still be a full-time mayor. I'm a high school teacher, debate coach, drama director, student council adviser and assistant golf coach. And I have probably addressed more of the concerns of constituents in my classroom, in the high school theater, at the concession booth at a basketball game or in my living room at home, than I ever have at City Hall.
In a small town, failing to wave at everyone a mayor drives by on the street can be as politically deadly as an unpopular bond election. And though very rare in a large city, running unopposed in a small town is very common.
For example, I decided to run for mayor when my wife came home from paying the water bill at City Hall with the news that, with only 15 minutes left in the filing deadline, no one had signed up to run for mayor of Castle Dale. She then gave me a guilt trip that caused me to drive as slowly as a condemned man to the gallows the four blocks to city headquarters to fill out the paperwork that would make me mayor.
I guess I felt that I needed to step up and take my turn as, I suppose, did the people who didn't go and sign up. That might seem like a fluke, except after four years, I was again unopposed by those same people who felt it was still my turn, until I either learned what I was doing or messed up well beyond their low expectations. There is that attitude in small towns, that it is someone's "turn" to be the mayor.
Besides dealing with the universal problems of budget, human resources and physical facilities, I have been called upon to settle disputes between neighbors, put a citizen's cows back in his pasture, deliver complimentary calendars to every citizen's home on New Year's Day, supervise the inflatable water slide at the city summer celebration, dress up like a pumpkin at the city Halloween party and marry 13 couples in places ranging from the local car race track, to the desert, to Joe's Valley Reservoir, to my school classroom during my prep period.
But probably the worst of my mayoral experiences happened one Saturday morning when a constituent called and told me that, while he and his wife had been on vacation, a dog had climbed down his back stairwell and died. It had been there for several weeks and was very . . . ripe.
He had tried our animal control officer, but she had declined because she only deals with live animals. He had called the sheriff's office, but they didn't feel it was their responsibility. And so he had phoned me and could I "please get to it quickly because it smells really bad." I tried to explain that this may be a time for personal responsibility, but he reminded me that he was elderly and had no one else to help him.
So, armed with my pickup truck, a large garbage bag and borrowed pitchfork, I took care of the problem. And, all the time that I was loading a garbage bag full of decomposed dog into the back of my pickup truck I was thinking, "I'll bet this isn't what Rocky Anderson is doing this Saturday morning."
But I really can't complain. I knew what could be involved when my wife made me sign up. And I've also had many wonderful experiences. These good times have always involved working with selfless, kind, caring people who seem to be everywhere in my town. And some of the best experiences have also been delivering calendars on New Year's Day, dressing up like a pumpkin and marrying people in my classroom.
And I would say that the job has done far more for me than I've done for it. That's another thing that I have in common with large city mayors. I've learned that the joys of public service - large or small - will always outweigh the trials. I guess that's why we do it.
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* NEAL PEACOCK is mayor of Castle Dale, a social studies teacher at Emery County High and a member of the board of the Utah League of Cities and Towns. The league is marking its 100th anniversary this year.
