AN EXCHANGE OF PASSION

I have to think that it was bubbling under the surface, irrespective of anything I might have to say.

Tuesday night’s meeting of Renfrew Town Council was plodding along, from one report to the next, going in such a way that fighting off sleep was a legitimate issue of paramount concern.  The atmosphere was rescued somewhat by Director Eric Withers, who undertook the responsibility of improving the air quality by grappling with the air circulation system headquartered right behind his spot on the the outer ring.  Had he not done so, we were looking at the possibility of a mass casualty event where several participants may well have nodded off during a back and forth featuring properties on Mutual Street and the Kumbaya experience offered by the ROMA — Rural Ontario Municipal Association — conference down in Toronto a couple of weekends back.

But then the clock began to wind down towards what many might legitimately consider to be the final minutes, the last trumpet call before go-home time.  Suddenly, a match was struck, and it was too close to the powder keg, and in fairness I don’t believe anyone thought there was a keg of powder nearby, or that close.  But apparently there was.  A big one.

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RENFREW STAFF PROVIDE POLICY FOR “CUSTOMER SERVICE”

Kelly Latendresse has tendered a document as part of Tuesday night’s meeting agenda, one where she shares with us her exhaustive review of the town’s  customer service policy, a rather generous term to apply to the rather arbitrary nature by which town employees and many elected officials give the public the municipal stiff arm when anyone has the temerity to ask a question.

Finally, at least, thanks to Latendresse, we have a desk identified as the one where the buck stops, and that would be the one occupied by CAO Gloria Raybone.  Before this, everyone just sort of looked at everyone else when asked who it was that made the final call on these things.  At least now, we have an identifiable in-office postal code.

For a while there, it was tough to figure who exactly Ms. Latendresse was in terms of title and responsibility.  I know that she’s a member of Renfrew’s senior administrative staff, that much is clear.  But every time I see her, she’s wearing a different hat.  And sitting in a different chair.

If this was baseball, and these were the Blue Jays, she’d be the ultimate utility infielder and positional generalist. Can’t hit worth a lick, but a great glove.

A betting line could be opened up for tonight’s meeting to see which of the many possible hats she’ll be wearing this evening.

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IT CONTRACT AWARD UNDER SCRUTINY?

The agenda is out for Tuesday’s Renfrew Town Council Meeting and I didn’t get to the bottom of the first page of the thing before I saw something that made my political radar start to ping.

A certain Ian McFarlane will be making a deputation at the beginning of the meeting, and for ten minutes or less he’ll be speaking on something having to do with the procurement of IT services for the town.

At an earlier meeting back in December, a staff recommendation to give a tendered contract to OnServe was shot down by council since, as councillor Kyle Cybulski said, “I don’t know what it is that I’m voting for.”

So, as is the case for most things that are of high interest, it was resolved that the whole thing would be hashed out in-camera, behind the closed doors they love get behind when there’s any chance that somebody might end up looking stupid or appear to have done something not exactly according to Hoyle.

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SATURDAY AFTERNOON AT THE LIBRARY

A Saturday afternoon at the library is something special.

I once pulled that trick quite a bit back in the day, back when I was in university, and quite frankly the boys in residence were starting to get on my nerves.

Off to the campus library I would go, and I’d usually park myself at one of the big tables which, on the weekend, were usually there for the taking.  During the week, you’d either share one of these with several others, often in groups, or you would go for the semi-privacy of a study carrel, where you could sort of slice yourself off from the rest of the world inside your own little demi-cubicle.

I will say that I managed to get a ton of work done on these occasions, since you’re at the library, and, well, why not?  But it was also an exercise in people watching, something I’ve always been keen to do, the student of humanity that I like to think that I am.

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POILIEVRE

Am I detecting a little bit of discomfort with Pierre Poilievre?

I sure hope so.

The adolescent leader of the federal Conservatives had the prime minister’s chair all sized-up and had already pictured the office furnishings and drapes, although there are blinds in the prime minister’s Parliament Hill office.  But what a corker it would be if this guy gets nowhere near that office, ever.  But that might be asking an awful lot.

That I don’t like him is obvious.  That I’ve never liked him is more obvious still.  That’s because there is absolutely nothing to like about this man, who behaves like a miserable little bully who loves to throw insults and taunts on the school yard but somehow manages not to get beaten up.  Or reined in by whoever has yard duty or answers the phones in the office.

He’s had a bit of a crisis recently, but not one that he’d ever admit to.

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HEALTH RENFREW

What is Health Renfrew?

Or just as importantly, who is Health Renfrew?  Is there even a “who” in Health Renfrew?  Instead of bodies sitting around a board room table, is it only a chequing account?

As officially as I can find out at present — and admittedly I haven’t really looked all that hard yet — It’s an adjunct board of the Renfrew Victoria Hospital, or RVH.  For the longest of times, it apparently existed as some sort of shadow entity with some sort of financial affiliation with its larger parent, RVH.  In recent times, however, the spotlight of accountability has fallen upon it more intensely and it looks like there might be hell to pay.

What kind of hell?  And for what sins did we end up here?

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SMISHING IS THE LATEST LOCAL SCAM

This is a bit of a heads-up regarding a scam operating in Renfrew and surrounding areas.

Smishing is a term that applies to an unscrupulous type gaining access to a phone number and then using it to fraudulently dupe people out of their money, in this case falsely reaching out to people to inform them that they have unpaid parking tickets in the Town of Renfrew.

Smishing will also target an individual’s personal information.

Both the town and the Ontario Provincial Police are aware of the scam and are encouraging people to spread the word so that this practice can come to an end in this area.

For the record, parking tickets are either issued directly to the “offender” or are left on the windshield of the vehicle.  If there’s any follow-up connected with the issue of a ticket, that can only be done in person or through the mail.  The Town of Renfrew will never request a payment for an unpaid parking ticket via phone or text message.  Never.

If anyone receives any kind of suspicious communication involving a parking ticket, they’re encouraged to contact the town’s by-law enforcement officer directly for confirmation or verification.  In fact, if in any doubt whatsoever, make this call.

613-432-4848 EXTENSION 121

613-504-2878

COVER PHOTO”. Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash

TENURED POLITICIANS

There are two types of politicians that walk the floors of town halls, city halls, legislative halls, or agency halls.  A third type frequents the boards constituted by the first two, giving us a full compliment of three very different forms of political figures.

The first, and most obvious, are the elected politicians, the ones who got to where they are the old-fashioned way, by doing all the grunt work, working the phones, knocking on doors, hammering in lawn signs, kissing hands and shaking babies.  The ones who are up front-and-centre when the public gets its dander up and is looking for answers to difficult questions.  The people who have all sorts of things thrown at them, whether it be criticism, profanity, rotten tomatoes, any of it or all of it.  These are the people elected by the other people, the public, and are the forward-facing tier of democracy.  They have something called legitimacy.

And then there are the tenured politicians.

They’re the ones who got hired by the first group, probably with educational credentials out the ears, plucked out of nowhere to be given the task of steerage, of keeping the ship both afloat and headed on the desired course as directed by the captain and other ship’s officers.  They are the ones with their hands on the wheel.

Perhaps the best way for me to make my point is to use Granny, the most wonderful woman in the world, as an example.  Always a warm and encouraging smile, thoughtful to a fault, spoils the grandkids shamelessly to their delight, a member of her church and volunteer for numerous church and civic causes.  She is the apple in the apple pie.

But put her behind the wheel of a car.

This beatific human being becomes something completely different while she navigates the Costco parking lot.

So it can often be with tenured politicians.  They start as one thing, but inexorably make their way up the ladder, in competition with others, but with no need for term limits and things like elections to get in the way.  They become entrenched.  

They aren’t part of the system.  They become the system.

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THE CONE OF SILENCE

What is it about the Town of Renfrew that makes its representatives so rude?

I mean, I don’t know if all of them are, but I can definitely say that any I’ve tried to contact officially are.  So, to be fair, that would be the Clerk, the former CAO-Acting, the mayor, and every single councillor.

It appears I’m not the only one to feel this way or experience this phenomenon.  I just wonder how long it goes, or how many people are rubbed the wrong way, before the pitchforks come out and the mob storms Town Hall.

Actually, that’ll probably happen on its own once people get their property tax bills.  Or lose the front undercarriage of their vehicle in a municipal tank trap that advertises itself as a street, and that’s after it’s been “reconstructed” by Renfrew’s default road construction specialists.

But back to the rudeness.

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BEWARE THE GENERALS

I promised myself that I wouldn’t write anything about Donald Trump.  After all, what could I possibly add to any commentary about that man and his MAGA movement?

So far I’ve managed to steer clear of anything to do with the guy, and that’s saying something, since he’s talking about absorbing Canada into the United States, which on most days would filter its way into the pile of things that might grab my attention. 

It’s January 20th, and I’m watching a home-building show on Global, totally because every single other channel is covering the gong show that Trump has managed to morph the presidential inauguration into.  I understand that, sometimes, it’s okay to stray a bit from the iron rigidity of tradition.  But to turn something like an inauguration into another form of a Trump MAGA rally is tough to watch. Elon Musk, as well, is entirely difficult to watch.

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