Lets get ready to rumble!!!
Today I was hoping to write a post talking about how insightful and progressive our city administrators and council were. I read and re-read the PAC report to council and I was giddy at what was in there. Infill, an end to big-box, urban intensification. Alas, Monday night confirmed the small-minded, status-quo thinking that pervades the halls, offices and council chambers of our City Hall.
And so, I give to you dear readers an analogy. An exercise in imagery that personifies the battle we are witnessing between the reality of the world, current events and economics and the stunted and short-sighted leadership of our city.
* * *
Two Boxers…
The tale of the tape.
The undefeated, heavy-weight champion.
Reality. Reality packs a heavy punch. Economic fluctuations, politics, geography, geology…
The challenger.
The City of Windsor. Automotive Capitol of Canada, home to Ontario’s first casino, old-school philosophy, old-boys networking…
Let’s pick this bout up around the turn-of-the-century. 2001
The contender looks good. A strong economy, lots of well-paying manufacturing jobs, low unemployment a casino and tourist industry that is robust. Yup, the kid is dancing around, doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. Reality stays to the outside, sizing up its opponent. Reality sees an opening, a solid right to the nose…September 11.
The challenger staggers, drops to one knee, he’s hurt. But, he gets back up, takes the eight count. Tourism and the casino felt the brunt of that blow. But, the kid’s been working out. He starts to dance again, jobs are still good. The bell ends round one.
Kid Windsor heads back to his corner. Queen’s Park, his corner man, tells him he’s doing O.K., everything will be alright, we’ll expand the casino and help bring is some call-center jobs, promise. The kid comes out in the next few rounds and holds his own. Yeah, Reality is throwing some jabs but our challenger is doing his best to keep outside, away from Reality’s big right hand.
Reality has been working Kid Windsor over a bit, nothing that worries the Kid, edge of the radar stuff, global-warming, peak oil, fighting in the Middle East. Its all glancing blows, Windsor still has the auto industry and tourism and the casino are starting to hold their own.
A couple of rounds in and Reality jabs hard with a Canadian dollar rising against the U.S. Greenback. The kids big punch, auto jobs, isn’t as effective anymore and his tourism/casino jab - Reality is slapping it away now.
Over the course of a couple of rounds (2005 and 2006) Reality really starts to throw his big punches. The Canadian dollar keeps rising, Homeland Security and border delays have Kid Windsor’s jab beat. Then comes a big body blow. Ford announces the closure of Essex Engine, the Foundry and a Nemak plant. The challenger falls into the ropes, winded, hoping for the bell to end the round.
The Kid is still cocky though. From his corner, he starts talking tough on the border, he commits to a new arena, maybe an airport expansion.
Its becoming apparent that this is a one-sided fight. The champ is throwing hay-makers and the Kid, he’s hoping to land one big punch to get back on even terms. Reality is coming fast-and-furious now and the Kid can hardly cover-up. A big hit to the face, GM announces that it will close its Windsor Transmission Plant. The Kid’s eyes swell shut. He can’t see but, he keeps going through the motions. Years of training and repetition, practicing combinations. He can rely on that now can’t he? Keep building out, sprawl houses and big-box stores. Keep extending city services, digging into the reserves, if he can just hang on…his corner man tells calls out “there’ll be jobs coming, hold on. Stay outside of Reality’s big right hand.”
Reality is coming on stronger and stronger as the rounds progress. Peak oil and global warming are now front-and-center. High oil prices are sapping the auto-sector’s strength (Kid Windsor’s big heart is tightening up). Reality throws global economic instability into the mix. Corporations are scared to spend on new investments, as the jobs dry up the Kid starts to lose the strength of his youth and young professionals. Desperation time - build a marina, bring in retirees to bolster the tax-base.
From the corner comes a new voice, “hang on, were here to help”. The bell rings, the Challenger staggers to the corner. There’s blood streaming down his face now, his nose his broke, its tough to breathe. The corner man holds his head, uses a razor to cut open the Kid’s bloody, swollen eyes.
The Kid looks up, “Where’s Queen’s Park, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Take it easy Kid. We’ll help you out for a bit, got an election coming up. Here’s eighty million dollars. We’ll try to keep Ford going for a while longer. Keep your left up. How much more can that guy have to throw at you anyway?…”
Across the ring, Reality sits up tall, his muscles bulging, he hardly seems tired, like he could keep fighting forever. His corner man reaches into the bucket, pulls out a big bottle of geo-political instability and high oil prices. The Champ chugs it down. His corner-man is screaming at him. “The Kid’s got nothin’. He can’t come up with anything new. Your wearing him down.”
Things look bad for Kid Windsor. To take on a champ like Reality requires fast feet, a sharp eye and quick thinking. Reality sucks you in, like Ali’s rope-a-dope, he forces you to fall back on reliable tactics and patterns. But, Reality has a vast arsenal. No one that challenges the Champ will ever win, you can only hope to keep up. Maybe sometimes get a step ahead, land a lucky punch.
While you can’t beat the reality of the world, Reality can kick-ass whenever it wants to and there is a long list of empires and nations, cities and towns that have been knocked to the canvas and counted out.
Post Feedback
I think it’s time for kid Windsor to start studying the martial arts. Using your opponents momentum against him. Maybe then we can use what reality is inflicting upon us to our advantage.
Great analogy, James!
I knew going up to council they wouldn’t do anything, however, unfortunately, I was caught off guard by what I calll the “Monty Python, Dead Parrot” defense
Denying the report even called for curtailment to big box to protect mainstreets. Even Tanner acknowledged that in his discussion after me.
The sketch:
A customer enters a pet shop.
Mr. Praline: ‘Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
Mr. Praline: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Owner: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?
Mr. Praline: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad. ‘E’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!
Owner: No, no, ‘e’s uh,…he’s resting.
Mr. Praline: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.
Owner: No no he’s not dead, he’s, he’s restin’! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, idn’it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
Mr. Praline: The plumage don’t enter into it. It’s stone dead.
Owner: Nononono, no, no! ‘E’s resting!
Mr. Praline: All right then, if he’s restin’, I’ll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) ‘Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I’ve got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if you
show…
(owner hits the cage)
Owner: There, he moved!
Mr. Praline: No, he didn’t, that was you hitting the cage!
Owner: I never!!
Mr. Praline: Yes, you did!
Owner: I never, never did anything…
Mr. Praline: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) ‘ELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o’clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
Mr. Praline: Now that’s what I call a dead parrot.
Owner: No, no…..No, ‘e’s stunned!
Mr. Praline: STUNNED?!?
Owner: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin’ up! Norwegian Blues stun easily, major.
Mr. Praline: Um…now look…now look, mate, I’ve definitely ‘ad enough of this. That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not ‘alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein’ tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
Owner: Well, he’s…he’s, ah…probably pining for the fjords.
Mr. Praline: PININ’ for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got ‘im home?
Owner: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin’ on it’s back! Remarkable bird, id’nit, squire? Lovely plumage!
Mr. Praline: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the
first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
Owner: Well, o’course it was nailed there! If I hadn’t nailed that bird down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent ‘em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
Mr. Praline: “VOOM”?!? Mate, this bird wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through it! ‘E’s bleedin’ demised!
Owner: No no! ‘E’s pining!
Mr. Praline: ‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e
rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the
bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
Owner: Well, I’d better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I’ve had a look ’round the back of the shop, and uh,
we’re right out of parrots.
Mr. Praline: I see. I see, I get the picture.
Owner: I got a slug.
(pause)
Mr. Praline: Pray, does it talk?
Owner: Nnnnot really.
Mr. Praline: WELL IT’S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
Owner: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)
Mr. Praline: Well.
(pause)
Owner: (quietly) D’you…. d’you want to come back to my place?
Mr. Praline: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.
I like the version of that sketch where the shopkeeper says that he didn’t really want to be a shopkeeper. He wanted to be a lumberjack in the wilds of Canada.
Kind of like all the young people graduating and leaving Windsor for the wilds of the Canadian west and all the resource money thats driving their economies.
Definitely like dealing with this city, except it is a lot less funny without the British accent.
Sad. Very sad. My wife spoke with some friends back in Windsor yesterday — I’ll tell you, the general consensus is that Windsor is screwed. Even people who are willing to stick it out in the city are scaling back spending, etc. in preparation for the “impending doom”. Council *could* have changed all that by taking a left turn when presented with the status quo. They could have really shook things up and given people in Windsor something to be excited about. Instead it is the same old, same old. If we build it big they will come.
I’m sorry, but flooding the cut, Greenlink, etc. cannot save a city without having a sense of neighbourhood, a sense of belonging. This is not Field of Dreams here folks, this is reality, and reality says that without a community, a village, a sense of ownership you cannot sustain a settlement, organization, city, neighbourhood or even a family.
Windsor is in trouble if it keeps doing the same old thing.
Reality is six feet tall.
Kid Windsor is 4 foot nothing.
Sometimes one must know when they are outclassed.
The thing about this “fight” is that you can’t quit. Even though we are only “4 foot nothing” we have to stay in the ring. The only other option is for Windsor to become a ghost town of the industrial age.
Kid Windsor so far has not taken any opportunity to see all the damage Reality is doing. The Kid hasn’t tried to “get inside” as a smaller fighter must do to get out of range of the big punches.
One million dollars to landscape Dougall Avenue. What does that do for the people that are losing their homes here in Windsor? That million could have been better used in the community, for the community.
Until the leadership, not just of Windsor but, at every level of government and especially industry, until they wake-up to the fact that the basic mechanisms of industry and commerce in the western world have been destroyed they will continue to try to maintain the status-quo.
The new reality is that we are going to face economic and social hardships quite unlike anything that has been visited upon the western world in a long, long time. People that say we are entering an situation similar to the Great Depression still aren’t close to describing the turmoil that seems to be in motion now.
The Great Depression occured at the beginning of the age of cheap oil. Before we got fat and lazy and complacent. Before the age of entitlement and instant gratification.
When there is no hope of being “better off than our parents”, when it becomes clear that we will be experiencing a period of austerity that is imposed on us rather than embraced as we try to here at scaledown, the world is going to be a dark and angry place.
Sorry, got called away…
The point I was trying to get at in that last ranty bit it that we have to completely and totally let go of all the ways we’ve been trained to do things. All the old habits have to go.
I was so excited when I read the PAC report. I though, holy shit they’re finally starting to see that things have to be done differently. There’s still a lot of crap in the report about how the city is going to return to its traditional growth and that thirty years from now there will be an extra 50,000 people here and that we will be living in neighbourhoods built on the Sandwich South lands. But, to acknowledge that big box commercial is bad, to read that an outside expert is recommending a three year moratorium, that experts see that Windsor still has its commercial/retail districts and that every effort should be made to bring them and the communities around them back that’s the good stuff, that’s the stuff that will save the parts of the city that are worth saving.
That is the kind of thinking that will help us get back into the fight, get Kid Windsor back up onto his toes and maybe strengthen us to weather the next flurry of jabs and hooks.
Sometimes you have to wonder if there isn’t something slightly more nefarious as work when the evidence is mounted so heavily in favour of doing something different and council votes to do the same old thing … again.
(Maybe I’m just a conspiracy nut who has my tinfoil hat on too tight!)