It was a challenge laid so that party activits could find me in the electoral roll and hit me with some election promises.

But judging by the complete lack of election bumph finding my letterbox, I can only assume no-one really wanted my vote.

Or they simply could not be bothered to find out I was christened, by long-standing family tradition, John Edward.

As I wrote this, with less than 20 hours to go before the polls opened, I had received just three pieces of vote-seeking literature – and two of them came from a political party I despise so much they had to go straight in the shredder.

No one had bothered to knock on my door to see which way I was thinking of voting, and nowhere on my street did anyone have party political posters in their windows.

By the time you read this, the election count will be underway and people will be complaining about a poor turnout.

But is it any surprise people don't bother to vote when no one really encourages them to?

It really must be time to make voting compulsory, but in doing so, there must be a "none of the above" option and every method of voting in this modern age must be explored.

How 21st Century is standing in a booth with a small piece of paper and then marking it with an X, the universal mark of the illiterate?

The challenge I failed to set last week was to find out which title I hold.

So this morning I will reveal I can actually claim the title Laird, as a registered owner of land in Caithness!

It is not a title that means a great deal, although my passport is due for renewal soon and I may well use it.

But it came as a welcome change on Christmas morning a couple of years ago, on similar lines to buying a square foot of the moon or having a star named after you, and considerably more interesting than a pair of Simpsons socks!

I mention it only because later this month, someone has the chance to become the Lord of Habergham Eaves.

Descendants of the Towneley family, who have some pretty depressing medical bills to pay, have decided to auction off 29 titles which have been held by the family for centuries.

The majority of them are not in this area.

But there could be a lot of attraction in being named Lord of Bowland or Habergham Eaves.

They are, of course, titles with little true meaning.

But they will sell to someone who wants to make a move up from a personalised car registration plate.

The auctioneers are predicting each of the 29 titles will sell for between £4,000 and £7,000, a sum considerably removed from the cost of my Lairdship!

If I have a significant Lottery win between now and the day of the sale, this column could become Straight Talking with the Lord of Accrington Newhold – or, perhaps, not!