REGARDLESS of what you think of Mayor Bloomberg’s decision to seek a third term, you gotta admit that, in principle, term limits are a pretty good concept. The great mystery is, how come they’ve never been applied to the private sector? Just think how much better all our lives could be with the evenhanded application of a few rules. Here are 10 suggestions for regular civilian jobs that could do with specific term limits.

Local daredevil

Limit: Two years

After David Blaine’s underwhelming I’m-gonna-hang-upside-down-for-three-days-except-for-the-many-hours-in-which-I’ll-just-be-standing-on-a-platform trick, it’s time the city got itself a new daredevil of record. There must be someone out there who can thrill the city with insane acts of physical courage in exchange for an ABC special. Anyone willing to eat an entire city bus piece by piece? Or receive an organ transplant on the Top of the Rock? Or try to get a table for brunch at Clinton Street Baking Co. on a Sunday? You will be allowed to captivate the city for two years, then it’s someone else’s turn.

Night-shift deli guy

Limit: Two weeks

More than almost anyone else in your life, this guy has the goods on you. It is he who sees you at your most vulnerable, your most desperate, your fall-down drunkest. And don’t think he isn’t watching and cataloging your list of depravities. “A Coors Light tall boy, instant mashed potatoes, a pack of Kools and a pregnancy test at 4 a.m.? Must be Wednesday, Mr. Spitzer.” It is precisely because the late-night deli guy’s knowledge is so dangerous that he must be forced to rotate delis every couple of weeks. He gets more variety and a change of pace. You get less shame next time you’re buying rolling papers at 3 a.m.

Action hero

Limit: 11 years

Stay in the game too long, and the only villain audiences are interested in seeing action heroes whip is arthritis and/or dementia. In order to not embarrass themselves thoroughly, heroes’ careers – you listening Messrs. Ford and Willis? – should be limited to 11 years. That should give muscle-y actors enough time to make multiple sequels and bank a ton of cash – just not so much, mind you, that they have a few million to waste making their face look like Stallone’s.

Radio program director

Limit: One year

Soup kitchen bread isn’t as stale as the playlists on commercial radio. For example, K-Rock, the so-called “rock of New York,” relies on a steady diet of grunge from more than 15 years ago. Even Kurt Cobain couldn’t take the prospect of hearing “Smells Like Teen Spirit” one more time. In this age of digital music and iPods, when the average person is able to (and often does) listen to an astonishingly diverse array of music, playing Matchbox Twenty once an hour just seems quaint. Program directors get one year, then it’s time to give someone else a shot.

“American Idol” judge

Limit: One season

Producers of “American Idol,” look us in the eye and tell us that Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson are two of the biggest musical geniuses in the country. This is a woman who once sang a duet with a cartoon cat. Now that the show has become such a cultural phenomenon, bigger names could surely be attracted. Turning over the judges every season would reinvigorate the show, not to mention reduce use of the word “pitchy” by 300 percent.

Nightclub bouncer

Limit: One night

Some of these guys are so skilled at running the favors game, they should get their own corner office in the Capitol. Imagine a world in which people were let into bars and clubs, not because they went to school with the bouncer or because they surreptitiously crammed $100 into his hand, but because they dressed appropriately and acted civilly. Or dare we say it, because they’re first in line.

Bouncers should operate like professional sports referees. To avoid any chance of them being compromised, the bouncers shouldn’t be allowed to know where they’ll be working on a particular night until a few hours before their shift. They’ll all be required to show up at a central facility at 6 p.m., and then be sent out randomly to clubs, where they’ll work for a single night. The next night, the process will be repeated, and each will be sent to a different club. Graft loses; patrons win.

Candy bar designer

Limit: 10 years

Could we get someone in the house who has an idea that doesn’t involve combining the same four ingredients in different ways? Thanks, fellas, but I think we’ve taken nougat, peanuts, chocolate and caramel pretty much as far as they can go. At this point, can anyone even remember the last truly innovative breakthrough in candy technology? New directions are needed. Vending machines everywhere will thank you.

Owner of the Knicks

Limit: Six years

The team has been so depressingly bad the last few years, even employees of Bear Stearns are pointing and laughing at the ineptitude. Owner James Dolan – whose expertise seems to lie mostly in the area of bad bar music – should be shown the door. In fact, a term limit of six years should be imposed on every Knicks owner – then no matter how bad things got, fans would know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

Renew Isiah Thomas’ contract? Great! See you in six years. Hand millions to an aging role player with bad knees? Awesome! Six years! Raise the price of beer at the Garden again? No sweat. Six years!

Local news anchor

Limit: 10 years

Have these guys rolled over once since the invention of TV? Chuck Scarborough’s first story was a man-on-the-street piece about the breakup of Pangea. Ernie Anastos throws it over to sports with homo habilis. Not that these guys aren’t good at what they do. That’s the problem. They’re so good that watching the news has become predictable and safe. Shake it up every 10 years with new faces who bring new attitudes and hairstyles.

Your corner panhandler

Limit: One week

That story about how you lost your train ticket or that funny cardboard sign you hold up reading, “Need money for beer” was novel the first 50 times I walked by it.

But earning money in the street-hustling game requires constantly exposing your message to fresh eyes. Passersby get wise (and cynical) quickly, and all it takes to blow it is for one of them to hear your verbatim story of heartbreak twice – or to see you trying to wedge that shopping cart into the trunk of your Lexus at the end of the day. Move along once a week, yo.