Fencing in the enormous ego of the Annex

Helen Kennedy and Adam Vaughan, the main contenders for city councilor in Trinity-Spadina, resemble rival characters who’ve stepped out of a black-and-white graphic novel: Silver hair, dusky wardrobes, and sharp edges. Both are seeking to replace the federally departed Olivia Chow with their respective political pedigree — Kennedy with vast NDP credentials, culminating in seven years as Chow’s assistant at city hall; Vaughan filling the shadow of his late Citytv reporter dad, attempting to reverse Colin Vaughan’s alderman-to-newsman transition for Ward 20. The increasing Spy vs. Spy-style animosity between Kennedy and Vaughan gives the Monday evening all-candidates meeting at the Al Green Theatre some big-city spark, as denizens of deepest Annex expect their emotional needs to be reflected in their leading council candidates. When it comes to speaking skills, Kennedy’s otherwise eloquent brogue — imported from Ireland in 1979 — becomes increasingly brusque when forced to fend off Vaughan’s ability to encapsulate every position into an impeccably paced report-ending stand-up. But making Vaughan vulnerable was an online video advocating that certain alleys get fitted with fences, in order to send nefarious nightcrawlers back into the light. This suggestion is now being spun by Kennedy into a movement to “privatize our laneways”, even though Vaughan clarifies he was just trying to be conscientious — make a public space secure at night, so a garden can grow, or end up with residents planting steel bars on windows to prevent those criminals from breaking in.

Downtown development becoming hostile to children has served as Vaughan’s most passionate campaign point. Just over one per cent of the residences constructed in the riding over the past decade contain more than two bedrooms, which means a pattern of short-term occupants, which means a gradual devaluing the whole condo-littered atmosphere — not to mention the affordability crisis facing older neighbourhoods, too. Kennedy snaps back with demographic evidence: “Building condos did not change the birthrate in downtown Toronto.” But counter-aggressive feminism doesn’t sell like bigger picture thinking here at the corner of Bloor and Spadina, so Kennedy stresses her own involvement in developing four new childcare centres closer to the lake, and other credits to make herself sound more qualified than a familiar face seeking greater civic access than a press pass would allow. “You have to work with what you’ve got,” she feigns addressing the audience — since her sparring partner is on the opposite end of a table lined with other candidates. “It’s not about you. It’s about how you engage with your community.” Vaughan isn’t enamored with “the group hug approach”, and token public space projects funded by developers (through Section 37 of the Planning Act) have left him unimpressed.

The symmetrical exchange between Kennedy and Vaughan was cramped by the presence of six other candidates, who fit three different categories: Two stammering municipal geeks who were too nervous to sit on such a big stage — Douglas Lowry and Joseph Tuan — two senior deviants determined to fill the progressively exasperating “Borat” role — Devendra Sharma and Carmin Priolo — and, mercifully, a pair of under-30 upstarts — City Idol winner Desmond Cole and online idealist Chris Ouellette. “Every candidate’s favourite word during an election is the word ‘change’,” contemplates Cole. “Do you know what would really be a change? Some humility in politics, that would be a change.” Ouellette was even blunter in his assessment of the surrounding action: “The real question is, has Adam pissed off enough of the other councilors over the past few years — and will they want to work with him now?”

Conspiracy theories incinerated in weekend wasteland

 

Saturday night was alright for fighting, far as mayoral candidates Jane Pitfield, Stephen LeDrew and food marketing executive turned environmental agitator Rod Muir (pictured) were concerned, but Mayor David Miller declined his invitation to the MaRS Discovery District conference room. Part of the Alphabet City TRASH Festival, the panel drew just 50 people to hear words on a topic that, in the context of mayoral debates, just provides another hysterical excuse for Miller’s two regular rivals to needle him for being wrong. Furthermore, the fact that the purchase price of the Green Lane landfill site cannot be disclosed has thrust the discussion into the conspirazoid anti-Miller realm of “secret deals”. Muir’s role heading Waste Diversion Toronto makes him the most legit of the one-issue fringe candidates, although he goes one step beyond evoking Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth: “David Miller cares as much about waste as Bill Clinton did about marital fidelity.” Muir doesn’t think the mayor deserves to bask in the success of the Green Bin recycling program, which had been under development for several years, when 200 high-rises erected in Toronto over the past three years are stuck with just one disposal chute — and the municipal government culture isn’t setting a good example, either. “Why is it that the cafeteria at city hall sells a coffee cup that is neither recyclable nor compostable?” howls Muir. “The inmates are running the asylum, and all their decisions are based on whether a union job is won or lost.” Contrary to Miller’s vocal opposition to the Adams Mine landfill in 2000, the haul to Green Lane isn’t going far to reduce the existing Michigan route ratio of two pounds of tailpipe pollution for every pound of buried trash, Muir explains. “When it comes to waste, all David Miller has done is waste the last three years,” recites Jane Pitfield, reiterating her support for a synthetic gas solution, which would create clean energy from waste. Stephen LeDrew, meanwhile, still doesn’t believe incineration is all that bad. Both familiar candidates repeat their desire for a “made-in-Toronto solution”, but Muir isn’t buying the idea that this discussion is about David Miller’s disloyalty to a local cause: “It’s only a consultant who would want you to believe that your situation is so unique.”

The following afternoon, Jane Pitfield floated the theory that Stephen LeDrew was working in collusion with David Miller to keep her from winning the mayor’s race, during a debate on Newstalk 1010 CFRB. “You’re both looking a little red-faced,” she illustrated, for the benefit of the Sunday afternoon radio audience. “I don’t know what kind of school board politics you’re bringing into this,” sputtered LeDrew, whose rural dialect sounds more pronounced without the benefit of his twerpy new waver appearance. This confrontation marked the first time Pitfield asked her bowtied sidekick what the hell he was still doing in the race, after he made an initial promise to bow out early if he looks like a sure loser, now that a Toronto Star/Decima Research poll calculated that no one was explicitly planning to vote for him on Nov. 13. Somewhere in there came the most yokelish exchange of all. Pitfield: “People in this city want inspiration”. LeDrew: “You should go to church for that.” Pitfield: “I do.” Then came Pitfield’s insistence that Miller has been absent from city council meetings half the time: “Of all the falsehoods you’ve said in the election, that is the most astonishing,” said Miller. “I thought I couldn’t be astonished in you anymore.” LeDrew brought up her history of flip-flops, and Pitfield started grasping for sympathy, the angle that would theoretically increase her support among older female voters: “Leadership is about defining reality,” she countered. “It does take courage to change your mind … I’m such a straight shooter that’s the only thing that can be held against me.” A political science discussion between LeDrew and Miller over the strained relationship between levels of government, and how it’s sabotaged the Expo 2015 bid, gave Jane an opening to fall through: “The buck stops with you,” she scolded Miller. “You’ve been a bad manager. You’re a limited person … I try to like you as a person. But as a mayor … I can’t admire you.”

A more fatigued debate Friday afternoon, on 640 Toronto — a radio station where Stephen LeDrew usually appears as a pundit and David Miller is lambasted for not being enough like Rob Ford — generated afterthoughts from moderator Mike Stafford: “During one particular argument over the ‘homeless’ I thought David Miller was going to explode like Louis Del Grande in Scanners. He really, really hates to hear the homeless described in a way we talk about our garbage or subways.” Pitfield on AM 640 cited an unscientific Toronto Star online poll that had her within grasp of Miller, but Decima’s numbers were more confounding: 68 per cent were certain of a vote for Miller, or seriously considering it, compared to 62 for Pitfield and 32 for LeDrew, although the committed numbers were 30, six and zilch. How does one “seriously consider” percentages that add up to 162?

Shaking the foundations of streetcar desire

Joe Mihevc just wants the best things for his community, even if those things require building a dedicated streetcar right-of-way that has turned into Mayor David Miller’s most dubious achievement, according to everyone seeking to overhaul city hall. Mihevc is a compact fellow, a stature which comes in handy when leaping around the St. Paul’s ward, even if his enthusiasm has been temporarily restrained by the construction tearing up St. Clair Ave. W. But enthusiasm for Mihevc’s history has also been hamstrung by the track redevelopment. For the Ward 21 debate in the sanctuary of St. Matthew’s United Church on Thursday night, the councilor is dwarfed by two huger dudes, both coveting his job, on the grounds that they’ve both done it before. John Adams and John Sewell are hulking on opposite sides of Mihevc, belligerent quarterbacks whose determination belies their retirement age. Adams, a city councilor through the 1990s — and a Globe and Mail reporter before that — projects everyman warmth with his Bill Cosby sweater pinned with a remembrance poppy, and works the crowd with a rhetorical style that owes a sizeable debt to Phil Donahue. “I’ll even make house calls,” he vows. Sewell, the former mayor who never went away long enough to be missed since first being elected to council in 1969 — thanks to writing gigs and municipal activist antics — is also using this election as a platform for his overall views on the future of the city and its management. So, what’s he doing running against his lefty friend Mihevc, not to mention being on the record as a past supporter of dedicated streetcar lanes? Because this is the riding in which Sewell resides.

And this is where Mihevc earns a round of thunderous applause, for having been more involved in developing a future for St. Clair than the ROW opponents struggling to “save” it. The councilor even resorts to braggadocio that verges on rap jargon. “This is where I hang”, he asserts. “They’re going to have to take me away from this community in a box. And you can’t criticize if you’re not a playa.” Good thing Sewell is in shape from all that bike riding, otherwise he’d be the one leaving this church in a box tonight, for all the anxiety caused by Mihevc’s rebuke. The provincially mandated meetings on the future of the area were a waste of time, shrieks Sewell, who stayed away from the consultation process while it was happening — only to have his campaign coordinated by Save Our St. Clair firebrand Margaret Smith, herself no stranger to throwing a wrench into the process. John Adams has also drafted a document, What To Do about Mr. Mihevc’s Mess on St. Clair, which involves halting the construction process, and then getting to the root causes of all this dissonance. “I don’t support dumb old technology,” Adams attacks. “The mentality of the TTC is 30 years behind the times.” But his strident suggestion that concrete barriers will keep an emergency vehicle from reaching the scene of a catastrophe doesn’t impress this crowd, and Adams flew off the rails when he responded to a question about the fate of drop-in centres with a tirade about how the provincial health system didn’t believe newborns should be screened for sickle cell disease, until Adams used his political talents to rally around that cause: “We were letting! babies! DIE!” The woman who dropped in to bitch about the GIGANTIC DITCH ruining her restaurant business was left unsatisfied by Mihevc’s lip service regarding St. Clair’s impending “renaissance” once all the concrete is erected and sidewalks are narrowed along the avenue, but at least she didn’t howl like it was part of a grand conspiracy against her.

Given how no other ballot contains familiar names representing three distinct eras of Toronto City Hall, the clash of these candidates didn’t disappoint, and the audience contained a broader range of ages than any recent mayoral debate — including parents who dragged their kids to watch the fireworks. But because this was an all-candidates meeting, the panel included Tony Corpuz, who earned 107 votes last time around to Joe Mihevc’s 10,875. Corpuz, who was born in the Philippines, apologized for his broken English off the bat, then played the role of Chauncey Gardiner in Being There, only that no one was impressed with his schtick. “My only asset is my guts,” explains Corpuz, “my strong faith in myself that I can deliver to city hall.” He currently works as a janitor: “I know what is clean and what is dirty.” His best line seemed scripted, even though something was lost in translation. “I have three skills: I know how to push a broom, I am a licensed pest control technician, and I am a licensed driving instructor …” The punch line was obvious, but he kind of blew it, suggesting he didn’t like men in nice suits even though he was wearing one himself. Corpuz hates taxes, because he’s being pinched for installments every month, but would be content with earning “nine, 10 … 15 bucks per hour”, eventually upgrading his salary expectation to $17. Discriminating against his unabashed lack of debate skills would mean questioning the validity of anyone looking to parlay a protest vote into a resurrection, of course, so Adams and Sewell hold their tongues instead of attacking each other. And, for those left unsatisfied with any other dedicated right-of-way rationale, Mihevc finds himself justifying the entire concept with a conciliatory shrug: “Work on the streetcar tracks had to be done, regardless.”

Corporal punishment not required at heritage squawk

Enoch Turner Schoolhouse, steps away from King and Parliament, hosted a Wednesday night mayoral debate on heritage preservation issues. The relative obscurity of this 158-year-old institution itself — a place where the water pitchers have the taped-on label “LAKE ONTARIO WATER BEING SERVED” — was raised as an example of the frustrations felt by those dedicated to keep monuments to Toronto history intact: Mayor David Miller noticed the schoolhouse wasn’t mentioned in an official walking tour guide, recent promotion of the city’s cultural renaissance has given short shrift to current activities in old buildings, heritage sites don’t earn the promotional benefits granted city-run museums — and then there’s the matter of the methadone clinic that moved in right next door. Dissatisfaction was expressed with more restraint than the typical candidate meeting, though. Jane Pitfield began the evening with her “this city has lost its focus” sermon, but settled into asserting her dedication to keeping century-old properties intact. Retaining examples of mid-20th century Modernism has been an entirely different battle, though: Inn on the Park met the wrecking ball, after the suburban hotel resort suffered years of wear and tear since opening in 1963. Completed that same year was the half-round Riverdale Hospital building, endangered by a new complex development tied into the restoration of the 1864 Don Jail, although not going down without a fight. Stephen LeDrew might look and act like he stepped out of that Modernist era, although expressed no particular enthusiasm for retaining those monuments. Maybe the problem is the word “heritage” itself, which relegates any building that was actually used during our lifetime to a lesser status, even though the effort to preserve archeological sites — like Knapp’s Roller Boat buried at the foot of Sherbourne St. — has become a battle, too. The pace was kept brisk by Globe and Mail city hall bureau chief Jennifer Lewington, nearly everyone in attendance had their own personal preservationist cause, and there was no difference of opinion between candidates — not even LeDrew gave a reason to be sent to wear the dunce cap in the corner.

Yet, an all-candidates forum about senior citizens, held earlier that day at the Native Canadian Centre at Spadina and Bloor, was a more chaotic matter. Twelve angry men — in this context, LeDrew fit right in with the fringe — were eventually joined by David Miller and Jane Pitfield, plus tiara-wearing latecomer Diana-De Maxted. The setting suited the speakers — completely unrefined, as this was possibly the sole mayoral debate taking place in a room with a basketball hoop, along with a sign warning “PLAY AT YOUR OWN RISK”. The panel of experts included Fergy Brown, the former mayor of the City of York, taken aback by one question apparently prepared for him: “When you’re 80 years old, you may not have 10 years left … oh … oh, that’s bad news, because I’m over 80.” For whatever it was worth, Pitfield repeated her insistence that the city has become a “slum landlord” in running municipal properties, in this case the senior homes where married couples find themselves living in separate studio apartments. Regardless, an aging population means this sort of forum will be more prominent in future campaigns, ideally in a less brutal setting. “Iraq wasn’t made safer by putting more soldiers on the ground,” Glenn Coles offered as parting words. “Toronto will not be made safer by putting more police on the streets.” Most names on the mayoral ballot need a game show host to help harness their agenda, or at least take a few etiquette lessons from the 22-year-old Zamboni-driving mayoral candidate Shaun Bruce, smart enough to stay away from this grump parade.

David Miller collaborating on campaign signs in Parkdale-High Park with his environmentalist pal Gord Perks can’t help but draw attention, especially when two other candidates, Rowena Santos and David White, are courting voters with well-connected activist platforms for Ward 14 — which dumped Liberal representatives for NDP both federally and provincially during the past year. So, what’s a candidate in a field of such squishiness to do? Ted Lojko is playing the law and order card, announcing his alliance with former police Chief William McCormack, along with the endorsement former city councilor Chris Korwin-Kuczinski, in the collective effort to create a Parkdale safety task force to rid the area of prostitution and drugs once and for all. Korwin-Kuczinski boasts of his own success in cleaning up the area during Parkdale’s darker years, yet claims the troubles have returned over the last three years: “It’s like a cancer, basically.” Lojko announced his plan of action from a lectern outside the public school at Landsdowne and Queen in the late morning, while the surrounding crackhouse residents ostensibly slept. Meanwhile, contempt for Gord Perks hitching his wagon to David Miller’s success is expressed by Toronto Sun election blogger Rob Granatstein: “Always pick a winner. But come on. If you can’t win on your own, get out.”

Debate No. 8: Catch the last ride to Leaside

Fred Williams, one of 14 candidates hoping to take over Jane Pitfield’s council seat on behalf of Don Valley West, hovered at the entrance of the William Lea Room of Leaside Memorial Community Gardens on Tuesday night, brandishing the scythe of the Grim Reaper. “If we don’t rein in spending at city hall,” he warns through his muffled mask, “there’ll be a great reckoning”. Just in case people didn’t get the message, he was holding a copy of The Great Reckoning: Protect Yourself in the Coming Depression, too. But, in this setting, Williams came off more like the kind of jerkass dad who subjects you to three minutes of his performance art before letting you have your piece of Halloween candy. While the mayoral debate hijack in Hart House the previous evening promoted speculation on increased security at future events, this gathering organized by the Leaside Property Owners’ Association was in a setting that was pure church basement, its décor reminiscent of a polka television show. The only home field advantage Pitfield might’ve had was due to the atmosphere, which forced Mayor David Miller to refrain from being too corrosive in his counterattacks, while also restraining Stephen LeDrew from his court jester role. With a format almost entirely directed by the audience, the cheaper shots came through an audience microphone that was especially fond of piercing feedback, although input tended to tirades punctuated by the words, “Don’t? … You? … AGREE!” in order to phrase things in the form of a question. Could lady Jane reinforce support by once again claiming her rational views are under assault? Her stock response to criticism of flipping and flopping: “When a mistake has been made you need to be able to stand up and say, ‘This is an error’.” Seems that no one on this upper-middle-class side of Leaside is eager to vote for unfeasible ideas, although Miller’s public transit strategy, unveiled earlier that day, was assailed by Pitfield for no other apparent reason than to remain consistent. Maybe the most unfortunate thing about Jane’s bid for mayor is her yielding the opportunity to represent the residents of Ward 26 over the next four years, given how they returned her to council by the highest margin in the city last time around. Meanwhile, the rivals hadn’t gotten around to calculating an angle at which to attack Miller for pinning his future waterfront hopes on a bid for Expo 2015, now that both the provincial and federal governments are passing that buck.

Rock the vote! Vote or die! Die of boredom!

The halls of Hart House were reverberating with the voice of Kevin Clarke, the homeless mayoral candidate who seemed hep to the fact that University of Toronto’s own Policy on the Disruption of Meetings indicates that nobody will be ejected from a debate unless they are making physical threats. Those enjoying the complimentary guacamole dip around information tables petitioning against perennial tuition hikes — and saucy suffragettes sporting “VOTERS are HOT!” T-shirts on behalf of gaining women an Equal Voice in politics — weren’t unamused by Clarke’s ranting about racism, which might as well have been a skit from the lost episodes of Dave Chapelle’s show. And once most of the audience finished filing into the Great Hall, the ratty suited Clarke commandeered the stage to wave his ratty broom, hollering about how and why he was being denied. But as a mayoral candidate who claims to have his ear to the ground, doesn’t Clarke know that Toronto university tension has shifted from skin colour issues to beating one another up over the Middle East? The organizers announce a delay of 20 minutes, and nervously deliberate their official options. A few comical attempts to lure Clarke down from the podium, including the pack of reporters extending Clarke an offer to take it outside, are ignored. Jane Pitfield tries to defuse the situation and is greeted with a comment on her husband’s anatomy. Meanwhile, filmmaker Albert Nerenberg is preoccupied with capturing the commotion for his latest piece of irritainment, Let’s All Hate Toronto. The room is cleared, but photographers hover — explaining they aren’t here to cover a debate, they’re here to cover the news. But shouting in a big room when all the ears are out in the lobby isn’t too useful, and Clarke finally comes to grips with that democratic reality.

“I understand there was a long wait tonight,” Stephen LeDrew intones after taking the stage an hour late. “I assume it was very entertaining. We hope to be just as.” No one is amused, and over the subsequent 60 minutes, LeDrew might as well be one of those oil paintings of long-dead university chancellors hanging on the wall. David Miller has already solidified his connection to this crowd — they’re instantly enthusiastic about his laid-back professorial presence, and he’s not even wearing patches on his corduroy elbows, or bell bottom jeans. Jane Pitfield tries to connect by pointing out she has a couple of kids of her own university, with a couple more soon to follow, but who wants to get excited over mom? The limited involvement of younger people in the political process is a recurring theme tonight, naturally, although LeDrew — who, in this context, looks like he’s been a 53-year-old since birth — shares the story of how he ended up being recruited for the Liberal Party of Canada: “It was 1968, and I was 15, riding my bike along the Danforth. A woman stops me to ask, ‘What do you think of Pierre Elliot Trudeau?’ I said, ‘I think he’s alright’.” The rest might be Canadian wonk history, resulting in LeDrew becoming the party president 30 years later — but the anecdote is pretty useless, given how it doesn’t end with a deflowering of some sort.

But if LeDrew’s bluster merited a comparison to Sam the Eagle from The Muppet Show, the overall condescending tenor of the three might as well have been a reading of My Pet Goat. “The city really benefits from having universities and colleges in our city,” says Pitfield, a Queen’s graduate. Yet she drew jeers when accusing Miller of just buying votes with his scheme to inject a million bucks into 13 specific at-risk neighbourhoods, after the mayor boasted of his role in establishing a community radio station for youth in Flemingdon Park, which just happens to be the most troubled part of Pitfield’s own ward. Reviving the argument that Miller was somehow unethical in fast-tracking the subway car construction order to Bombardier in Thunder Bay, instead of sending the job to China, was a good case study for PoliSci 101, but dweebish LeDrew was about as compelling to this crowd as one of the deflated balloons dangling from the Hart House rafters. Pitfield’s closing metaphor, “We don’t want to be the donut in the middle of the GTA” might play in the donut shops, but even the fact that U of T law school tuition is 10 times what it was when David Miller went there is not enough to make politically active students feel despondent about Toronto’s future.

Television debate fails to inspire drinking game

“We said no to gangs and guns,” David Miller reminded viewers during the Sunday night mayoral debate at Citytv, in case there was any doubt. But his sedate televangelist approach didn’t seem to impress gang-and-gunbusting Pastor Orim Meikle, who was among a dapper set of avowed Jane Pitfield supporters stacked in the small audience. Presumably, most of Miller’s campaign enthusiasts had better things to do than plant themselves in the middle of this painfully contrived production. Jane couldn’t come up with a snappy comeback to the mayor saying she’d dispute what day of the week it is, and the futility of the entire exercise was summed up by Toronto Star reporter Vanessa Lu giving up on any effort to formulate an intellectual argument by simply asking the question: “Councilor Pitfield, it’s well known that you flipped on your vote on the garbage, you couldn’t vote correctly,” she blurts. “How can … howcanyoubemayor?” Pitfield looks visibly uncomfortable beneath the hit lights, stiffly shifting like a hand puppet, distracting her from the kind of connection she’s been relatively successful at in the flesh. And even the telegenic Stephen LeDrew — who started off wearing his trendier red square frames but then switched back to his white-shelled goggles — had his hamming skills unfairly restrained by moderator Gord Martineau’s fist. Miller wrapped up with some Clintonian anecdote about “Heather”, who waited for five minutes at the Coxwell subway station at 7 a.m. just to shake his hand and explain how she recently moved back from New York, reaching the conclusion that “This. Is. Such; a great city.”

Friendly giant wants to save St. Catharines

Garry Robbins was working as a nightclub bouncer a quarter-century ago when all 7-foot-5 and 380 pounds of him was recruited for a role in the Canadian slasher flick Humongous, where his character stalked a group of teens shipwrecked on an island. Now, after years on the professional wrestling circuit, parts in every comedy show that required the services of an overly large gentleman, and a starring role as a disfigured cannibalistic mountain man “Saw-Tooth” (pictured) terrorizing pin-up girls in 2003’s B-movie Wrong Turn, the 49-year-old is ready to be mayor of St. Catharines. The job has belonged to Tim Rigby since 1997, a senior politician who wants to move into a seat on Niagara Regional Council. That’s left the field open for new candidates including former curling champion Marilyn Bodogh, noted photographer Preston Haskell, and five others. Robbins has a resume quite unlike anyone running in this civic election, though, even if his campaign brochure emphasizes his volunteer work over his stunt work. Formerly known in the wrestling ring as “The Paul Bunyan of the North”, Robbins is confident enough of a victory on Nov. 13 that he’s already rebranded himself as “The People’s Mayor”.

Where did you get the idea to run? I was approached, because other people knew I had ideas of how to make this city work. The tax system has been making people crazy, with all sorts of secret deals going on, and priorities have gotten all mixed up. I opened my campaign office in the worst part of town, and just by being here the prostitutes, crack addicts and drug dealers disappeared. All I need to do is walk the streets, and my presence is enough to clean things up. Not because I’m big, but because I’m not afraid to get them all arrested.

Who do you blame for this sorry state of affairs? The mayor kept passing the buck on everything and, as a result, this town went from being known as The Garden City, to becoming a ghost town. I want to make things blossom. What a beautiful city we had, and now people hardly talk to one another, they walk in the other direction. We’ve lost our pride and dignity, and I’m here to bring it back, to the era when we had Joe McCaffrey in charge. I’ll be following in his footsteps, as “The People’s Mayor” — my advisors will include everyone.

What is it with you big tough guys running for public office? The wrestling circuit teaches you how to be a fighter, a performer, and a businessman, all rolled into one. Arnold Schwarzenegger, he’s a perfect example of an honest man — I ran into him while he was filming Terminator 3 while I was making Wrong Turn, and he told me the things he was going to do, then he went ahead and did them. I followed the news about Jesse “The Body” Ventura when he was governor of Minnesota, he knew how to market things, including himself. Terry, on the other hand, has chosen a different path for his talents. But I want to do this job for the people St. Catharines, because this is my home. I’m not thinking of the fun I could be having in Hollywood instead of here.

How do you expect to transform the image of St. Catharines? We might have cheaper homes here, but we’ve ended up with bigger taxes, and that’s a problem. The other candidates don’t have a vision or, if they claim to, it’s one that they stole from me. There’s a need for a new hospital — we could have a lottery, and get all of Canada to help pay for it, I’ve even offered to put up the first $50,000 out of my own pocket. We need more police walking the streets, there’s a shortage of doctors, not enough business development. I want to get a waste incineration and power facility up and running to make money, build affordable housing, and establish programs for youth.

Does that mean you won’t be mauling people in horror movies anymore if you’re elected? I recently did a commercial for Kellogg’s Froot Loops, but otherwise I’m going full tilt on this mayor’s thing. I’ve got 2,700 election signs out there already, and a few kids have been stealing them, because they want an autograph. It’s a gift I was given to make these other characters come to life, in wrestling or in the movies and television, but now the time has come for me to give back to the city to the greatest extent that I can. People are sick of the word “politician” now — before this, I don’t think I could even spell the word “politician”.

Caustic candidates try to charm weary Weston

Toronto’s mayoral roadshow parked at Weston Collegiate Institute at Jane and Lawrence on Thursday night, where the candidates faced an audience especially rankled by the federal maneuvers to install a fixed rail link from Union Station to Pearson International Airport. The saga of Blue 22, an express train slated to barrel through this area without even a stop or two for neighbourhood residents, is symptomatic of a community accustomed to feeling left out of any boom times in Toronto — just because its layout has instilled a certain sort of modesty. Now, they’re fighting back against the plan, which threatens to tear areas like Mount Dennis and the Junction apart before they’ve even had a chance to clamber back from quasi-oblivion. The high school appears to have an awful lot of dignity, though; the debate takes place in a permanent auditorium suited for actual theatrics, not one of those halls designed to convert into a cafeteria at lunchtime. The moderator, Katie McGovern, hosts the proceedings with a homespun charm straight out of Hairspray. “These young men down here are paid to be tough,” she gestures at the A-V club members running the soundboard, admonishing the high-voltage trio. “If things get really out of hand, I’ve got a cane. I’m not afraid to use it.”

David Miller occupies the chair on the left, with Stephen LeDrew compactly folding himself into the middle, a buffer between the mayor and Jane Pitfield. And, no matter how redundant the rhetoric gets, LeDrew is guaranteed to keep things entertaining. With no table to conceal the action below the belt, he’s like the world’s tallest marionette, his emphatic eyebrows serving as the strings. Miller’s default position finds one leg crossed over the other, while Pitfield’s knees are usually locked, finishing school style, although her toes start diverting in girlish directions as the evening ambles on. LeDrew, however, sits with legs spread apart with clasped hands set in front of his groin — most of the time. The recurring point of attck is that Miller represents downtown elitism, where tearing down the Gardiner Expressway is more important than giving Weston a decent recreational facility, as high-profile power squabbles over transit, the waterfront and police have eclipsed the real concerns of real people. Cue the hidden agenda accusations — among which, in this case, the most newsworthy, at least for the Toronto Sun, was Pitfield accusing Miller of forcing out “top cop” Julian Fantino with two years left on his contract, and having to pay him a hearty severance as a result. Miller’s position on the board of GO Transit was also derided, as Pitfield accused him of being complicit in planning decisions destined to destroy this area forever.

This crosstalk made LeDrew euphoric, of course — the blood visibly rushed through the mayor’s skull as he listened to Pitfield, but the man in the middle leaned back and directed a cartoonish cavalcade of grimaces at Miller. “They seem to think we’re running the City of El Dorado”, bellows LeDrew. “They’re looking for gold, and they find it — but then it turns out to be fool’s gold.” Contrary to the determination of the panel of community activists onstage, the audience didn’t express much hope for Weston itself — seems that a Toronto neighbourhood without an accessible main drag doesn’t seem to stand much chance of being viewed as a legit Toronto neighbourhood at all. Maybe the “NDP dogma” mocked by LeDrew could be doing more for this area than not, which Miller reinforced by discussing his plans to priotize 13 at-risk communities, and Pitfield expressed her empathy for the passion to keep the area’s legacy intact, especially when giving new monikers to streets duplicated in the city. “If we’re ever going to change any names,” she purred, “it won’t be the names in Weston.” (A questioner who identified himself as a resident of Church St. may or may not have felt placated by this promise.) These three white folks were grilled by a white woman about whether they had ever undergone cross-cultural training. (They all answer no — with explanations about why they don’t need it.) Yet another read a proclamation that multiculturalism has destroyed Canadian society. “Madam, if that statement were true,” vaunts LeDrew, “then all we’d be eating is iceberg lettuce topped with Kraft French dressing.”

Sewell goes psychogeo, and more dirty tricks

John Sewell led the first of four different Sunday 2 p.m. psychogeographic walks through the St. Paul’s ward last weekend, marching up Spadina from Dupont station to Forest Hill Village — the next three begin at Dupont and Christie, St. Clair and Vaughan, and Eglinton and Bathurst. Just be sure not to lose sight of the tour guide, who was usually a few hundred paces ahead of his audience. “Long legs can cause big problems”, Sewell shrugs. A recurring theme for the first stroll was the spectre of the Spadina Expressway, whose construction might’ve been halted 35 years ago, yet remained an aspiration for some bureaucratic factions through the late-‘80s. The result was a Dupont subway stop planted in a somewhat unnecessary place, rather than somewhere along Bathurst, where the line would’ve been more practical. Plus, the City Archives complex and townhouses were set back from the road just in case the expressway was resurrected. Further up the line, Spadina House doesn’t earn enough affection from the city, Casa Loma’s future management will be a big debate for the next council, and the Casa Loma Stables remain a cryptic mystery. However, the Sir Winston Churchill reservoir area leaves Sewell feeling warm and fuzzy. The walk’s denouement took place on the St. Clair streetcar tracks, in the midst of transition to a dedicated right-of-way, with left-turning drivers honking and shouting over the Ward 21 candidate’s diatribe. Sewell was also back Thursday in the dank basement of George Brown House, along with five other candidates, announcing their collective idea for a financial plan for Toronto based on overhauling the property tax system. This announcement turned out to be little more than a chance for Adam Vaughan to pontificate into a Citytv camera, but the candidates promise their next proposal will be unveiled in a more appealing place. Spacing Votes columnist John Lorinc took a stab at Sewell’s bid to become leader of the opposition: “Some of his positions have real substance, while others are troublingly disingenuous.”

Accusation corner: Globe reporter Omar El Akkad rounds up tales of dirty tricks around the GTA, including the packet of e-mails between Vaughan mayoral candidate Linda Jackson and a police officer, printed out and left on the front porch of Mayor Michael Di Biase. Yet another story involves a woman being arrested and charged with theft in Scarborough Ward 39 for replacing pamphlets for incumbent councilor Mike Del Grande with those of rival candidate John Wong on several floors of a condo. The latest round of Mississauga mudslinging concerns Ward 5 Councilor Eve Adams, accused of strong-arming residents to plant election signs on their property or face bylaw infractions, and enlisting city employees to work for her campaign under false names. And did you hear the one about David Miller supposedly using black kids as paid “props” at a Scarborough campaign event, where the mayor pledged more money for youth programs?

Toronto’s provincial potential; Mississauga’s worldly wrongs

A campaign to turn Toronto into Canada’s 11th province earned just 271 of the 692,085 votes cast for mayor in the 2003 municipal election. This time around, the thirtysomething lawyer who ran on that platform, Paul Lewin, has handed the reins over to David Vallance (pictured), a 69-year-old community activist and former insurance salesman, who describes his current occupation as “the flea in the dog’s back”. But the conference room they booked at the Marriott Eaton Centre to meet the media Wednesday ended up coinciding with David Miller pledging funds for beautification at Bathurst and Wilson, and Jane Pitfield standing at Bathurst and St. Clair to rail against the dedicated streetcar right-of-way while floating a new subway scheme. But much of the haggling with the Province of Ontario about new projects, and the economic insecurity that keeps public space from reaching perfection, would be overcome if Toronto struck out on its own — at least according to the Province of Toronto platform, which evokes the Constitution Act, 1871. “I knew Jane Jacobs relatively well,” says longtime Annex resident Vallance, “and she agreed that the best solution for Toronto was to become a province.” The city as we know it would be divided into between six and 10 smaller cities, the provincial legislature would move to Brampton or Newmarket, and Toronto would gain control of its destiny. So, why not run for a council seat, where a supporter of the cause would have a more realistic chance of being elected? “The nasty answer is, would you come out to hear a local councilor if they held a meeting?” asks Vallance. “The only way to get people to think about this idea is to bring it in front of the whole city. Could it be an issue? Well, that depends on how far the message gets out, and if people want to support it.”

Meanwhile in Mississauga …: Charges laid against city council candidate Adnan Hashmi, who allegedly impersonated a police officer in the effort to get landlord of rival Ishrat Nasim to sign a paper saying she didn’t live in the ward, are stoked by accusations from former MP Carolyn Parrish that she received a mysterious phone call asking her to bribe Matanat Khan to prevent him from moving his candidacy from the infamous Ward 10 to her Ward 6. Khan denies the allegations and claims Parrish fears losing the significant Pakistani-Muslim vote in her strategic effort to secure a council seat, toward taking over Mayor Hazel McCallion’s chair by 2010. “People will even kidnap others to win elections in Pakistan,” a community newspaper editor helpfully explains. Mississauga News Random Access blogger John Stewart pleads, “Could we please have an election where the police blotter isn’t the main source of political news?”

Pitfield to NIMBY nabobs: ‘I’m not a politician!’

The meeting of mayoral candidates at Upper Canada College was hosted by the Federation of North Toronto Residents’ Association (FoNTRA), who boast of being “21 Neighbourhoods Strong” – although only about five people per neighbourhood made a point of hearing from David Miller and Jane Pitfield in person. The uninvited Stephen LeDrew and his crew circulated before the discussion started in the 5/6ths empty Laidlaw Hall, where UCC old boys like Harold Ballard, Conrad Black and Michael Ignatieff once sulked in the pews. It was also the first sighting of Jane Pitfield’s range of campaign paraphernalia, including a T-shirt whose back text reads “Watch Jane Run/Watch Jane Win!”, and graphic design aesthetic that resembles a post-ironic Tyler Brûlé branding job, if only you squint a little bit. FoNTRA, took root around the time the 51 and 38 storey Minto tower project at Yonge and Eglinton was being berated, just the sort of battle that Pitfield cut her teeth fighting in Leaside. (However, all Jane’s media attention for this day surrounded the campaign blog cut and paste from Spacing Votes, for which she apologized — but not before they tried to pull a Sam Bulte on her via online badgering.)

A couple hours of dialogue about building sustainable urban regions risked feeling like a rubber chicken dinner without the poultry, although some sparks flew across the onstage table. Pitfield plunged into her sermon against backroom dealings, nepotism, cronyism, transportation gridlock, waste mismanagement and other signs of inertia under the current mayor’s shadow. Miller cursed the Common Sense Revolution of the mid-‘90s for downloading pressure that canceled out all the provincial affection that once enhanced Toronto. “People in this city want to be inspired, they want hope“, retaliates Pitfield, insisting that panhandlers and public transit problems are linked to the “NDP controlled agenda”. Miller counters that intensification remains a viable idea at the intersections capable of handling it, and the new official plan will amplify the local voice, forcing developers to heed people who already live around there. Pitfield plays to the thinning crowd: “I don’t mind NIMBYism if it means standing up and protecting the neighbourhoood you’ve invested in” and “I don’t make promises, I make commitments that produce results” and, perhaps most resonantly of all, “I’m a business person, not a politician”.

Questions from the floor lead to more garbage talk, grousing about the 905, and Pitfield crowing about how the recent Bombardier subway car purchase proves the straw has fallen out of Miller’s broom. Mayoral candidate Joel Rubinovich (his campaign flyer promises to “STOP St. Clair In It’s Tracks”) stepped up to quote David. “Not you, David, the David who wrote Psalm 115: ‘They have eyes but do not see … they have ears but do not hear …”

Honk if you still love Scarborough

A rapid transit glide on Monday led directly to the Scarborough Civic Centre, where their annual community summit took over the rotunda with information tables, and real live candidates eager to speak to anyone who considered the election a valuable distraction from the neighbouring mall. A late afternoon information fair wasn’t exactly attracting the civic groupies, though — plus, the building itself was constructed to accommodate a kind of municipal hustle and bustle that packed up nine years ago for downtown. That post-amalgamation remoteness has further isolated the status of Scarborough on the media map. Councilor Michael Thompson earned his share of notoriety, as a politician with the guts to point fingers at black kids for the outbreak of gun violence in 2005, but the overall contrast of comfortable ratepayers with struggling immigrants makes for a place still waiting for respect. Yet, all this insecurity has bred a certain kind of quirky pride, as captured by a magazine called 54east and those “Honk If You Love Scarborough” T-shirts. Scarborough Centre candidates Kirk Jensen and Dan Sandor (pictured) showed up to mingle, at first mostly with one another, as they share the desire to snatch votes from Ward 38’s one-term incumbent Glenn De Baermaeker, and find a few new supporters, too.

“If what I’m hearing at the doorsteps is any indication,” confides Jensen, “then 50 to 75 per cent of the incumbents will be gone.” Disaffection with Mayor David Miller is a big topic out here, apparently, regardless of how unsuccessful his combatants seem. “It’s the Canadian way,” offers Sandor. “Most people don’t vote for who is best — they vote for who will do the least amount of damage.” And, in the case of Jane Pitfield, her blunders might have endeared her to a certain percentage of the population. “They see Jane making mistakes and can relate to that,” explains Sandor, who figures some voters are reaching the conclusion that “Jane is a human being just like me.” Wayne Cook, a seasoned muckraker running in Scarborough-Agincourt, joins in the conversation about the changing demographics that surround him. “I remember when it was important for your credibility to say you lived in a ward for at least 20 years,” Cook says. “Now, if I’m out canvassing and tell people I went to Agincourt Collegiate, they don’t seem to care.” Cook stirred things up last week, reminding voters that incumbent Mike Del Grande was on the record pointing out the diminished number of “white people” in Ward 39. What does spark conversation with voters born outside of Canada, claims Cook, is a de facto endorsement at the top of his photocopied flyer: “I have great respect for your dedication,” Wayne was once told by Pierre Trudeau.

Briefly spotted at the Civic Centre was Stephen LeDrew, who ended up chatting with Scarborough East candidate (and City Idol winner) Amarjeet Chhabra (who we first met here). LeDrew was regaling her of stories of a Liberal strategy where Trudeau won the 1980 election by staying 30,000 feet in the air at all times. But the Strong Mayor is being benched tonight, since the North Toronto ratepayers, organizing the debate at Upper Canada College, didn’t care to accommodate a lateblooming third candidate, and he doesn’t seem to mind. “I have a date with Rick Mercer,” chuckles LeDrew — hastening to add that he is heterosexual.

Waterfront: So far, so good, so close, yet still so far

Navigating the urban labyrinth between the heart of Parkdale and the water’s edge was the mission of the Ward 14 residents group who got half the 14 candidates for the vacant council seat to participate in this stroll of frustration. Monday afternoon, Parkdale-High Park Residents Waterfront Group ringleader Roger Brook led a hike from the corner of King and Dunn that required a complex set of navigational skills — walking across the Gardiner, around a pedestrian-unfriendly manure-scented entrance to Exhibition Place, then a two-stage crossing at a Lakeshore Blvd. light that all but begs people to don’t walk. Patches of parkland, which are used as a parking lot during events at the C.N.E., leads to an ad hoc boardwalk renovated with federal funds for dragon boat races. But made perfectly clear is how planners didn’t regard the bottom part of Parkdale as more than an autobahn, and area residents would be expected to satisfy all of their recreational cravings by smoking more crack.

Naturally, if a sense of grandeur can return to the surrounding landscape, the lakefront access should live up to those restored aspirations. After finally reaching the destination on this brilliant autumn’s day, city council candidates Tom Freeman, David Hanna, Ted Lojko (and his dog Luke), Gord Perks, Rowena Santos and David White all had two minutes to articulate their vision for what the area should be. (Walt Jarsky didn’t make it to the finish line.) Santos (pictured, with Roger Brook in background) stressed the obvious point that a summertime getaway spot for those who can’t exactly afford a Muskoka cottage is situated right here. White is advocating a transit line on the west end and central waterfront to replace the Gardiner, and reduce car use in the process. The recent restoration of the Palais Royale was frequently cited as an example of what is possible, if only the city got over the assumption that people only want to get down here by car.

Leaving the scene, the group was led along another circuit that would be all but impossible to navigate on rollerblades, let alone a wheelchair, across the railway corridor and around a complex path. The tour ended along the Jamison Ave. bridge, on a narrow excuse for a sidewalk, with the Gardiner traffic roaring below. The noise drowned out whatever closing remarks the tour guide was making — and while it might have helped to get closer, the possibility of getting run over just wouldn’t have been worth the risk on a blogger’s salary.

Mayors touch female voters in weekend windup

London: Giant Douche meets Turd Sandwich. Pardon the South Park reference, from The London Fog blogger Lisa Supersmall, equally discouraged by the campaign literature of Mayor Anne-Marie DeCicco-Best as the cynicism of challenger Joe Fontana, a former MP (pictured). Fontana is viewed as disconnected from the locals, according to a local citizens’ group quoted in the London Free Press — DeCicco-Best is favoured by 58 per cent in the latest poll, compared to 38 per cent for Fontana. The mayor is even more popular with women and folks under 30. Reacting to those results, Fontana promises his campaign will find a focus, after weeks of throwing initiatives against the wall hoping a few might stick.

Ramara: Mayor Bill Duffy charges that he’s the target of a sexual assault smear campaign because his reform policies are unpopular with township staff and a block of councilors. The alleged indiscretions involve “unwarranted touching in the workplace” on five occasions. The Orillia Packet & Times reports on Duffy bristling at opponents who referred to the “charges” against him at a council meeting, then lodged a complaint of his own — with the Ontario Human Rights Commission. Was he accused of fondling a female firefighter because he suggested the department budget should be cut back? That’s the story Duffy is sticking to.

Ottawa: Baird breached three statutes and should resign, federal Liberals are braying to The Hill Times. Treasury Board president John Baird announced the Conservative feds wouldn’t be releasing $200 million for Ottawa’s newly approved north-south light rail initiative until after the election. Baird’s public release of parts of the contract is a breach of the contract, and violates federal privacy and access to information laws, according to his parliamentary opponents. Mayor Bob Chiarelli is blaming the decision on rival Alex Munter, who plans to cancel the contract, and accelerate an east-west line. Bound By Gravity blogger Andrew Anderson is nonplussed by Nepean-Carlton MP Baird meddling in any municipal business.

Toronto: A weblog from mayoral candidate Jane Pitfield featured a post debunking the news value of David Miller pledging $28 million to 13 distressed Toronto neighbourhoods over four years. Pitfield’s dispatch turns out to be a cut and paste of John Lorinc on Spacing’s election blog — the item was hastily attributed, and then disappeared altogether, followed by the blog itself getting scrubbed from Pitfield’s site. Then, it’s noticed that another entry about the city becoming a bedroom community of the suburbs resembles a Globe and Mail column by Anthony Reinhart. Pitfield points at the “young man” who looks after her site when the plagiarism is pointed out. Spacing editor Matt Blackett is still seeking a simple apology.

Windsor: Blue Blogging Soapbox mogul Paul Synott checks in with a link to his blog aggregator W.E. Speak, and is also keeping tabs on the online activity of candidates over at the Windsor Municipal Campaign. Do you know of any other election sites or candidate blogs from around the province worth following over the next four weeks? Check out Building a better blogroll for the Bubble for other discoveries, or write in with suggestions right here.

Six candidates seek remedy for Megacity malaise

After two consecutive days within earshot of would-be pro wrestling manager Stephen LeDrew, it was a change of tone at a Thursday morning press conference hosted by a more seasoned iconoclast — John Sewell, now running for council in St. Paul’s, along with five other candidates who want to improve the way city government functions. Huddled around a table in a rustic basement room at George Brown House on Baldwin St. were candidates Amarjeet Chhabra (pictured, Scarborough East), Garry Green (Jane Finch), Ed Shiller (Willowdale), David White (Parkdale-High Park) and, the most familiar face, Adam Vaughan (Trinity-Spadina). Their agenda essentially brings the Sewell-led anti-amalgamation Citizens for Local Democracy campaign into the Megacity era, now that they’re equipped with evidence of how inefficient the system can be. This gang thinks council meetings should be held every second week rather than once monthly, community councils need power to make decisions on local matters, and a task force should be struck to untangle the system. They believe non-citizen residents deserve a vote, more women should be encouraged to run for council, and more strategies oughta be created to increase overall participation from people who aren’t old white guys.

Sewell might have been the oldest white guy in the building, but entered this race to continue fighting the dedicated streetcar right-of-way on St. Clair W., a project whose flip-flop construction process has come to represent everything wrong with local bureaucracy, particularly among those who didn’t like the idea in the first place. Sewell has settled into the role of City Hall psychotherapist, eager to dispense his ideas for healing, after a couple decades writing columns about the unfulfilled promise of Toronto failed to achieve the desired effect. Council meetings that last a week or more, filled with more agenda items than the average wonk can absorb, are blamed as a contributor to citizen apathy. A downtown councilor being forced to form an opinion on an issue related to Scarborough isn’t terribly effective, either.

Years of having to hunt down soundbites for the evening news led Adam Vaughan to realize that a council debate dragged out over multiple days results in diluted public passion over time, because “the best clips have left the room”. He points to the recent vote to tear down 48 Abell St., a warehouse residence for artists recently put up for condominium sacrifice, despite passionate protests from the West Queen West set. But, the final decision was ultimately swayed by an effort to gain favour with the developer, related to a project in North York, explains Vaughan — who also despairs that most of the talented architects in town aren’t being hired by the city, and how community projects to improve neighbourhoods are being actively discouraged by a system built to be mistrustful of initiatives from ordinary people. Vaughan wonders if the 123 local agency boards and committees are just too much for 44 councilors: “Maybe, we could use more politicians.”

Working together for a more effective council [John Sewell]

‘Doom’ and ‘Gloom’ share despair with cardigan crowd

Showing up less than early to the first debate that found Mayor David Miller seated between his arch-conservative rivals, a petite woman dubbed “Doom” and her new bowtied foil “Gloom”, meant watching from outside the quaint council chambers of the Etobicoke City Centre. Wednesday night’s action — or lack thereof — was also being projected on a screen in the foyer, and a television set in a meeting room, a single-camera shot that provided nothing else to heed attention to besides the body language of the candidates. Jane Pitfield delivered her pursed-lip discourse with claws planted on the table, her typically antagonistic council meeting posture; Stephen LeDrew pensively leaned back in his chair while stroking the lower half of his face, then folded his arms across his chest or behind his back to enhance hostilities when standing upright, tucking a hand into his pocket when feigning a promise of his own; and Miller went through the motions of defending three years of mayoral experience with a vocabulary of measured gesticulations.

There wasn’t much reason to get raucous when speaking before this aging cardigan crowd, in a part of the city where all those supposedly harsh realities associated with Toronto life are a tedious drive away, which meant the priority topics were taxation, accountability, and where’s the park by the lake worthy of taking the grandkids to. A couple of Doom and Gloom operatives clapped like seals at any streak of anti-Miller sentiment, but any effort to stir up enthusiasm clashed with the institutional pre-amalgamation atmosphere. Fortuitously, a promise released by Miller earlier that day vowed to get waterfront development plans completed by 2010. Pitfield repeatedly emphasized that all this activity comes with a price: A few extra coins every time you buy a smoke, or a drink, or a lap dance — thanks to the powers vested in Miller through the New City of Toronto Act — are destined to fall down the drain, apparently, what with 62,000 layabouts currently on the municipal payroll.

Miller pandered to the bungalow dwellers with an anecdote cutting a swath across several levels of criticism: A lowly local “litter picker” (Miller’s description) who found a wallet in the middle of the night, and promptly returned it to its rightful owner, a tourist from California. The kindness, and cleanliness, and scrupulousness of a civic worker prevented Toronto from being eternally associated as the place where Americans come to have travelers cheques fall out of their pockets. Yet, this self-consciousness about the overall city doesn’t seem of much concern in Etobicoke, although the two blond candidates responded enthusiastically to a suggestion that Toronto get itself in synch with ISO standards. Pitfield, in a rare display of desire, added that she’d like to get the city some unspecified Best City in the World honour, even though such things might as well be as easy to come by as all those mysterious “top website” trophies that people used to slap on their home pages.

Stephen LeDrew’s got trouble in River City

Oh yes, we’ve got trouble, trouble, trouble, announced Stephen LeDrew at his Toronto mayoral campaign launch on Tuesday. And while the Dixeland combo did everything possible to set the mood of a summer stock production of The Music Man, the last-minute candidate comes off more like a 1970s sitcom second banana shoved into the forefront with a storyline about running for public office, only because the star of the show went off to make a movie. Fears that the past president of the Liberal Party of Canada was given too much of a makeover were soothed when he barreled into the vacant Yonge and Yorkville condo storefront with his patented white-framed round glasses, rather than the redder and squarer specs the man who would be Strong Mayor sports on the campaign literature. His courtroom-ready bluster is entertaining in moderate doses, much in the same way that Stephen Colbert can project hilarity while saying objectionable things. And, if you think David Miller has failed to earn himself four more years at Toronto City Hall, then there’s probably nothing too objectionable about Stephen LeDrew at all.

What earned the first headline was LeDrew’s promise that he will stop the dedicated streetcar right-of-way on St. Clair W. in its tracks, literally, turning it into his own version of Miller’s cancelled bridge to the island airport. Based on the official script, the candidate was just sitting around with his pals, including his campaign manager Arthur Potts, who reached the conclusion that Miller would be unemployed as soon as “the soft white underbelly of what is wrong is exposed”. John Barber pokes a few holes in those conspiracy theories in his column, The secret behind he who will end secret deals. Turns out that the campaign manager is the very kind of lobbyist that LeDrew’s platform promises to send to the political electric chair.

Yet, there’s enough to like about this bowtie, who looks like he’s eager to hand out treats at every turn — even if the only refreshments supplied in the unfinished space were warm cans of generic brand soda. Besides pandering to the Save Our St. Clair crowd, LeDrew was determined to address the state of our local garbage — both the incineration issue, and how wastebins in Kensington Market somehow manage to increase the amount of litter on the streets. LeDrew also tittered at the opportunity to use the word “pervicacious” … even if it was hurled at him first.