So what am I supposed to do with that?
I attended the Town Council meeting last night, all pumped and ready to go. Really juiced the place up in yesterday’s piece with the prospects for high-drama and bet-worthiness. Got there early to get a good seat — okay, so that’s never a problem — and generally made myself comfortable, certain that there’d be plenty to write about this morning.
I was brought back to Earth in a hurry. It is, after all, Renfrew Town Council. Sorta like that cop that waves you by saying “Nothing to see here, folks, nothing to see here.”
Everyone left their phone alone, so there would be no gotcha-moments. The mayor was stylin’ and hammered together — clothing-wise — so have to give props there. The Clerk didn’t have that certain wisp of arrogance about her. The reeve showed up, albeit remotely. Andrew Dick seemed disinclined to piss anybody off, although he many have a bit, but not by much, so statistically irrelevant. Kyle Cybulski made no-one cry.
There was a moment there, when I walked in and saw a citizen who has been locked in a back-and-forth communications struggle with the town. She had support, but she did the last meeting too, only to exit the chamber early. But she was there again last night, again with support, and I’d seen her on the agenda as a point of discussion for council. So there was the prospect of at least a minor fireworks display at some point. But she left again, this time even before her matter came up, no doubt thinking that the mayor was going to call on her to speak, and stalking off when he didn’t. If past history is anything, she’s likely hammering another email to the town this morning, an email probably festooned with officious points of legislative requirement, procedural correctness, and haughty indignation. Upon typing that, I realized how much she sounds like me, and maybe that’s why I criticize her, because there’s only room for one of us like that in any room. But her strategy involves getting all dressed-up, dressing up her support, showing up, being seen, then leaving. As opposed to my strategy of, well, I’m not even sure I have one, so at least she’s got me there.
Another citizen was there, an issue of his own on the agenda. He waited quietly, heard the issue involving a room at Ma-Te-Way named for his parents, then left quietly and without any fanfare when that matter was concluded. He probably wondered why it was so difficult to get the name change that he wanted, but there were things to consider with respect to the request generally, and not specific to his request specifically.
Oh Canada was played like it’s played by former generations of piano-playing teachers, as in fast, as in you could freakin’ dance to it in a pinch. Such a beautiful song, yet we careen through it as if we’re going to be late for supper. Plus I’m the only guy singing, which is a tragedy, because you’ve never heard me sing. Everyone else is mumbling the words in obvious awkwardness, while I, at least make the attempt, hoping my voice can’t be picked up on the live-stream. Next time I’m going to show up with my shower voice and blow out the speakers. Wait, no, probably not. I’d have to sing like a freakin’ chipmunk to match the tempo of the song.
You can tell that, if I’m picking apart the anthem, it was scarce pickings everywhere else.
There was a full line-up card, all the politicians present and accounted for. Some different folks seated around the outer ring, none of them looking like they were going to dislocate a jaw chewing gum. No texts to the Clerk on this night.
Peter Emon was there, the first time for me in three tries. I don’t like the reeve position, but the reeve himself came across as someone of substance, experience. He declared a conflict of some sort right off the hop, something having to do with a Code of Conduct complaint levied against him by another councillor or councillors, somewhere in the past, pre-dating my interest in council. That had the sniff of potential drama, but that was the last that was heard of that, and he contributed to the meeting in a manner appropriate to his position.
The Director of Public Works and Planning — my term — and the Acting Director of Environment, Engineering, and a Third Thing delivered department reports from the 3rd Quarter of the town’s State of the Union Address, while the Clerk, Acting-CAO and Treasurer read to us from the same document, and we didn’t even have to sit in a circle. The Director of Many Other Things and the Fire Chief were also on hand, but no smoke there, either, if you’ll pardon the, well, never mind.
A lot of congratulations thrown about the outer ring for jobs well-done, and I’m in no position to dispute any of that. But I’m a former media guy, and I know how software can make any one of us look good, so a shiny, glossy 3rd Quarter Report can sort of add some pizzaz to a story that might be lacking in pizzaz. But at least they made the effort.
There is a divide that exists between the political and administrative aspects of council, and apparently another one between the politicians themselves. I could probably run those down further, it wouldn’t be hard.
Councillor McDonald spoke. He’s usually one to nod and listen and nod again, breaking his silence with gems like “I really like this new format we’re using,” or “I really like the colour-glare coming off that stop sign at the corner of Argyle and Opeongo.” He keeps referring to the concerns of the seemingly many Renfrew citizens that approach him with concerns, but I would have no real knowledge of that, since he doesn’t respond to my emails.
He put forward a carefully prepared motion that he read from a prepared text, the soul of caution. The motion called for a single contact point for queries involving concerned citizens, no doubt with that disgruntled citizen from earlier in mind, although she missed it because she had left already and it probably wouldn’t have mattered to her anyway. After all, a single point of contact ignoring you is still the same as being ignored by many points of contact, except maybe it doesn’t psychologically sting as much since there’s only one. Ideologically, in a democracy, there’s no way you’re going to stop a citizen from approaching a politician with a question of concern. And practically, there’s no way you’re going to stop a citizen from approaching a politician with a question of concern. So no, that’s not the panacea you were looking for, unless you were simply hoping not to be bothered by a bothersome citizenry.
People don’t care about myriad by-laws and procedural and policy somersaults. They’ll ask if they have something to ask about. And they’ll likely get pissed if you’re rude enough to flat-out ignore them. Not just the lady who left, but others too. Others not intent upon causing trouble, but who can sure as hell make things uncomfortable if they feel they need to get someone’s attention.
Speaking of pissed, that motion did the Acting-CAO absolutely no good, if her voice, facial expression and body ;language were any indicator. She was one of the two sharp points of the spear when it came to defending the status-quo with respect to queries from the public. She, with the other spearpoint, was either behind or the defender-in-chief of the policy of “F**k-you with a smile,” to be employed when anyone had the temerity to ask about something as apparently trivial as leasing terms and conditions for tenants at Ma-Te-Way. A policy unilaterally implemented — without any council feedback or ownership — by either herself or other civic staffers on their own after a broad “consult” with other un-named municipal leaders — read administrators — from other jurisdictions. This is, of course, the “standard practice” argument that they assume will just shut everyone up because, well, if it’s a standard practice, what the hell are you going to say? Which is rich coming from an organization that has a legacy of standard practices that don’t quite measure up under scrutiny, practices that have cost this municipality millions.
My goodness, when I started this, I was afraid I’d have absolutely nothing to say, and I was starting to feel bad for my readers, those people in America and, inexplicably, Germany and Greece, who show up every day. I felt I would be disappointing them with my prepared article featuring Canada’s purchase of F-35’s, after having set them up with yesterday’s piece.
And yet here I am.
I’m starting to feel better already.
NEWSMAGRENFREW 