I'm sick of politicians tarnishing our great city's name

Let's start with Married at First Sight. Yes, that again. A terrible (but highly addictive) show that somehow seems to be running in parallel with, and highlighting, all the other terrible things that are playing out in real life.

Here's the thing about MAFS: Bryce Ruthven is NOT from Canberra. Originally from the Sutherland Shire, (hhmm, what other prominent man struggling with his relationships to women is from the Shire?) Ruthven spent a year in Canberra, apparently working at HIT104.7. Mind you I can't ever remember seeing his mug on the side of an Action bus so I'm still wondering if that claim is even true. I shudder every time I see ACT after his name.

It's a nice diversion being part of the Twitterverse when MAFS is on. It's like our own little dinner party where grievances are aired and wine is drunk. Except the people are smarter and way, way funnier. And you don't have to get dressed up in skin-tight, mesh jumpsuits to loll about on the couch.

But they've turned on Canberra a bit recently. And it seems every second tweet of mine ends in #bryceisnotfromcanberra

But then the nation has always blamed Canberra for all sorts of things. I just wish the late, great Peter Harvey had ended his stories with the sign-off "Peter Harvey, Parliament" and perhaps things would have been different.

Headlines this week have all been about the problems in Canberra, how Canberra is setting a bad example for the nation, how Canberra needs to change. Here's the thing about parliament: it is NOT Canberra. The mood in Canberra right now, people, is how about the rest of you keep us right out of this. These people, apart from the ones elected by the great town of Canberra, do not represent us. Back away.

Canberra's always had to put up with this. Blamed for so many things, we've been told time and time again we have no soul, that we're a good sheep station spoiled if we're going to go all the way back to the 1930s.

I love Canberra. I came here as a fresh-faced student in 1985 and it's been home ever since. Somewhat ironically, I also seem to spend a lot of time - what's the opposite of defending (if attacking isn't quite right), my home town of Orange. Sure it's now full of interesting food and wine kind of people, the kind of city that attracts rich city folk who set up weekenders in heritage houses that surround its many parks, or plant a few vines on the volcanic slopes of Mt Canobolas. But it was NOT this place in the 1970s, nor 80s really. Don't go telling me what my old home town is all about until you've lived there longer than it takes to drink a nice bottle of Bloodwood shiraz.

That said, perhaps it's somewhat hypocritical of me to call Canberra my home town. Sure, there are a few families here who are considered Canberra elite, going back three generations or so to Federation, but in the most part if you've been here longer than about 20 years you can call yourself a Canberran. Yes, we're a transient city, many of us come and go over the years, for an education or a job, and move off elsewhere with greater aspirations.

But moreso, you'll hear stories of it happening the other way around. Just like Hollywood celebrities are flocking to Australia, having figured out our country is a pretty amazing place, there are those living in Sydney or Melbourne, for example, who want to live a different kind of life here in Canberra. When you start talking to new neighbours, or the owners of new restaurants and cafes, or new business ventures

I was at an event the other night and someone called Canberra the best country town in the country. And while we're also forever spruiking the idea that we are not a country town, that we're a vibrant, bustling metropolitan city, there's some part of me that loves the idea of being the biggest and best country town in the land.

A place where people care for each other, and look out for neighbours, where you can go to the theatre on a Friday night and the football on the Saturday. A place where children can get a good education, and you complain about a 20-minute drive to work.

Sure this place has its problems, many of them, every tiny village does, but our problems are not the behaviours of those who happen to inhabit a big house on the hill.