Office of Toronto City Councillor McConnell
Attn: Councillor McConnell

Hey, Pam-pam! What’s shakin’, baby? Seems like it’s been ages since we chatted, huh? Come to think of it, I don’t think we ever chatted. We’ve never met, as a matter of fact. But with this new scrutiny about the plane trip you took this summer, I wanted to reach out and let you know you have supporters out there. At least one. Here.

In returning from Florida to put in your vote on this summer’s garbage strike, you helped to break the impasse put in place by the very people now pointing their fingers your way. I’m not sure that $1,100 was the cheapest flight you could’ve found, but compared to the waste and mismanagement proffered by the rest of Toronto Council, this is a pittance. If I contributed to your flight from my own exorbitant taxes, I want you to know that I’m not sore about it. Probably cost me, like, a hundredth of a penny. You’re welcome.

Besides, if you were required return to Toronto to do your job during that special emergency vote, it would have been negligent if you didn’t try to get back quickly. I wouldn’t take any flak from anyone over this if I were you. Show ‘em a letter from your satisfied constituent if they think you’re pulling a fast one on them.

Basically, Pammers, don’t let them get you down. You’re doing your job, and you’re doing it well; the other councillors are just jealous. One day they’ll be in jail for whatever illicit underage sexual relationships they’re engaged in (aren’t they screwing the innocent?), and you and I will laugh about it over a couple of cold ones.

Stalwartly yours,
Patrick

To the cyclists of Toronto,

Okay, I admit it, I feel for you. A bit.

When cops start blocking bike lanes to stop off for lunch, that’s a little much. I think everyone’s in agreement that this is just not right. If it’s a fine for the officer, so be it. If there’s an additional reprimand, I don’t think it would be out of place. After all, if the police are going to be enforcing something, they should be following it, otherwise John Q. Lawman won’t be getting much respect around here.

Your beef with many car drivers is a perfectly valid one and this is a fine example. The problem I’m seeing is that there’s a whole lotta antagonism between both sides and no one is making any progress. I see you screaming at cars, many of whom have just made innocent mistakes, sometimes just to vent, sometimes for very good reason indeed. I see them shaking their fists back, neck veins so strained that a pinprick would just instantly fill the inside of the car with red. Woh-oh-oh-hoaw there! Just hang on a second, therre, Nelly. Is it getting hot out here? Let’s just take a deep breath.

I’ve been on both sides of that glass. There are most certainly jerk-hole drivers, and without a doubt jerk-hole cyclists. Jerk-hole pedestrians too. The conclusion I’ve come to is that I’m not going to depend on anyone out there, especially not the jerk-holes, to prevent my death. Besides, there’s plenty of opportunity for death at the hands of other types of drivers: tired, distracted, drunk, high, having a cardiac arrest, having a stroke, having a mechanical failure, etc.

So, you can point at the motorists all you want, but the onus is on you to take responsibility for your own actions first. It’s tempting to just say fuck it when your life is threatened so often, but I urge you to stick it out. Obey the rules of the road to the best of your ability. At the same time, you should expect no less from your fellow travellers. And now you also have a much stronger moral position from which to cuss people off. You can flip them a most righteous bird.

Or you also try talking to people. If they’re parked in the bike lane, why not give them the benefit of the doubt? Maybe they really don’t know what the lane is for. You’ve got tourists and other out-of-towners driving around and the signage around the city’s already pretty crazy. I drove downtown for years and still managed to do lots of inadvertently illegal stuff; rarely did I try to murder cyclists. The two aren’t related.

If I could leave you with one thing it would be this: imagine the surprised driver who, after dangerously cutting you off, finds himself having a friendly and relaxed conversation with you (instead of the usual scream) who explains why that maneuver back there really wasn’t such a good idea. Now you’re not just another jerk-hole cyclist, you’re a human being who’s just trying to get through the day. Just like the driver. Queue rapport! And … action!

Shift that paradigm, as we used to say in the nineties. Oh, and Pam McConnell’s on your side; let that lofty perspective keep you afloat.

I’m still convinced that the cyclist who died hanging off the side of Michael Bryant’s car was being a jerk, but he was just one individual with a mess of personal problems. If he’s going to be the poster boy for something, let it be the end of an era.

Pedestrianly yours,
Patrick

To the former From the desk of Patrick,

Awww crap. Sorry, pal. I thought I was using a copy, I swear, if I knew I was changing the original, I never would’ve done it!

I didn’t have the heart to try to re-write you. Also, I don’t have an idea what you were about. Something regarding sweaters? *sigh*

You’re up in post heaven now with all the other posts that get deleted by naive blog owners (when will they learn?!)

I hope you had a good life here, brief as it was. Your candle blew out long before your legend ever did. Sir Elton John.

Regretfully,
Patrick

Oops. I managed to delete this post.

No great story behind this, unfortunately. No lawsuits, no threatening phone calls, no late-night tech support, just a boneheaded click on the wrong button.

Now the comments below are completely out of context. Neat :)

So, sorry, but have a look at some of the other stuff around here. The archives in the sidebar at the right, I mean. Or do a search for a titillating term.

It’s fair to say that most people in Toronto have at this point at least heard of the Michael Bryant thing. If you haven’t, allow me to catch you up.

Basically, Bryant was driving his car down Bloor Street on Monday when something – no one’s quite sure exactly what –  happened between him and a bike courier. Probably a collision of some sort, but obviously not serious because the courier got up. Then he leapt onto Bryant’s Saab convertible. The female passenger (his wife?) called police while Bryant hit the gas.

He swerved into oncoming traffic and drove up on the opposite sidewalk, purposefully running his car up against trees and mailboxes to try to get the courier off, screaming the whole way. Eventually, he succeeded. But the courier got bashed to death in the process. Possibly driven over. Guess all those wonderfully gory details will come out in the trial.

But it gets better!

Michael Bryant was the attorney general for Ontario. I believe that title means pretty much the same in most places; he was the legal bigwig of Ontario.

Also, the courier had been drinking. A lot. In fact, he had had a long history of unhappy addiction, and had about an hour earlier been stopped by police for trying to enter into a former girlfriend’s place wasted. Perhaps to visit with one of his kids?

The biker had been sober for about eight days, but the day of the incident, well, let’s just say he had indulged. The police are taking flak for telling him to go home from his girlfriend’s instead of letting him to stay. He shouldn’t have been sent home by the cops to ride drunk, they’re saying. Yeah, I say; he should’ve been walking his bike home. And in retrospect, the cops had the situation pegged; not a good time for a family visit.

Anyway, the whole thing quickly turned into a two-ring circus with all sorts of people sticking their causes to the event:

This morning, bikers got together in the spot where the courier died and staged a demonstration. Or protest. Or something. Some of them shouted out “murderer”, referring to Bryant, but made some strange remarks in a quieter voice (I was within earshot), “Yeah, if murderer means crusher of dreams, you back-peddling son of a bitch.” And so forth.

How come that kind of thing never makes the evening news? Ah, but that’s okay. I don’t think we should give the gathering too much credence. Most of the messages of condolence stuck to the spot mentioned, in one form or another, how this death was a just another demonstration of Toronto’s anti-bike streets. There was also plenty of promotion for United Messengers‘ Bloor bike lanes campaign. Guess they figured, if that bandwagon’s coming, might as well hang off the back:

So if the purpose of the gathering was to remind us about bike safety, I’d say absolutely! We could probably start by educating some of the bikers, huh?

I did an impromptu tally of helmets on cyclists for about six walking city blocks (major intersections). I counted only cyclists who were riding and on the road. Out of a total of 263 bikers, only about 45% were wearing helmets. I would like to do a follow-up study on how many also have earphones stuck in/on their ears. And coast through intersections on reds without a peek to either side.

I wouldn’t go so far as to totally let drivers off the hook either, but their infractions haven’t been as audacious as some of the stunts I’ve seen bikers pull. The only attempt at an explanation I’ve heard so far is, “We’re more vulnerable.” Umm … is that it? That’s why you don’t have to obey the rules of the road? Because you’re more vulnerable? Okay. Yeah.

I’ve been known to go out without my helmet now and again. Sometimes I also leave behind my lunch and name tag, the one that people can use to help me find my home again. But I usually get back from my walk okay because I always look both ways before I cross the street. There still seem to be so many bikers out there on whom this lesson is lost.

Oh, and the lesson about not getting pissed out of your gourd and picking a fight with a moving vehicle. Also an important lesson.

I wasn’t intending on writing about bicycles in Toronto quite so soon again, but then the mayor said this:

“NOW THEREFORE, I, Mayor David Miller, on behalf of Toronto City Council, do hereby proclaim May 25 – June 25, 2009 as ‘Bike Month‘ and encourage everyone to get outside and ride!” — here’s the PDF.

Guess that’s Life for ya — in the City of Toronto, no less. Unfortunately Bill Carroll wasn’t on hand this morning to appraise the situation; perhaps he’s at home fearing for his life. Us bikers can be a pretty aggressive bunch, it’s true.

Yes, I biked today. My highly affordable and questionably-constructed Freespirit Aluminum Concept 6061 (that’s the name … can you find the web site? … ‘cuz I can’t), made the ride quite exciting. Aside from the single occasion I had to explain, in passing and quite loudly, why a truck didn’t need to block not only my lane but also the lane of traffic next to me just to make a left turn, it was a pretty smooth ride. The pavement needed some work in sections and I could see someone getting a surprise facial makeover if they weren’t careful, but for the most part the ride was without incident. Cars were unexpectedly cautious; perhaps it was the gentle swaying motion or the empty liquor bottle I was dangling loosely from my left hand, but everyone seemed to give me a pretty wide berth.

The biggest annoyances on the road today were actually the other cyclists. I’ll be honest, I don’t really care how stupid they’re being in front of cars or trucks because, let’s face it, that’s Darwin’s theory being played out in perfect harmony with the universe. It’s nature’s way of preserving a base level of intelligence in the general population, don’t you think? If the need to show their brains pubicly is really that profound, what goddam right do I have to stop them? But when they start pulling that shit in front of other cyclists or pedestrians, it’s a bit different.

It was mostly the inattention that got me: making a turn and simply not looking anywhere but forward; cutting out in front of cars on red lights; pulling out across the middle of the lane or the sidewalk and just sitting there; sometimes it’s just an unnecessary inconvenience and sometimes it’s just plain dangerous. Perhaps the topic of a future Guide to Urban Insolence for drivers?

Speaking of dangerous biking, this month is being kicked off with a close-quarters free-for-all race called the Criterium which, if the photographs speak true, promises some good old-fashioned road-tanned hides. The starting-line scrimmage should be wipeout central — *THE* place to be! I’m so excited that I’ve taken to wearing Depends all the time now.

Unfortunately, not everything will be this festive. The month-long celebration allows you to pack the pounds you’ve lost back on with a variety of pancake breakfasts and a bike tour of Dufflet stores. I think the Dufflet slogan should be: “Does this in any way taste like you want to know how many calories it has?” They have very very tasty cakes. Very tasty. For a reason.

There are a bunch of workshops and a couple of parades where people from all walks of life get to exclaim “I love to ride!”, which if you interpret it sexually as I do most things, is quite funny. I’m not sure what’s going on with the Leslie Street Spit other than some people bitching about the cormorants, but it’s going to be a popular destination with at least two tours of the area and another just across the water on Ward’s island. There are also a variety of group events such as the “Tuesday Ravine Ride”, “Wednesday Night Ride”, “Fast and Furious Friday Night Ride”, and the popular “Weekend rides” which are also open to enjoyably sexual connotations.

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Bill Carroll put me on the Wall of Shame this morning.

Actually, it was all Torontonians and not me specifically, but I still felt the cold finger of blame pointed squarely at my face.

If you don’t know, Bill Carroll is the prime time personality for local radio station CFRB (AM 1010). His soothing repartee is my morning wake-up, usually taken with a caffeinated beverage, and followed by 680 News and a sunny toilet bowl.

The “Wall of Shame” segment, usually on just after 8 a.m., is a way for Bill to vent his rage and frustration in a generally non-violent way. Usually it’s the denizens of city hall or some child-abusers (I don’t think Bill sees a difference), who receive the honour of the simulated hammer-and-nail routine, but this morning Bill decided that Toronto — and everyone in it — was worthy of being shamed.

What got Bill so mad? The “minority” bicycling population of  Toronto is trying to impress their anti-car agenda on the city and we’re all just lying back and taking it. This stemmed from news that the group is trying to revive the proposal for a bike-only lane to be added to a section of Bloor Street West. Bill took this to be a personal afront: he drives, these people are obviously anti-car, hence they’re against him.

Usually Bill fake-hammers the virtual nail with measured disdain, but today he was pounding and yelling into the microphone like a man on a mission.

Why aren’t all car drivers furious with this “minority” agenda, he asked? Why is city hall filled with car haters? Why the hell isn’t the population of Toronto up in arms?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ALL YOU PEOPLE?! (or something similar)

Bill phoned the deranged organizer of this three-ring circus to ask him what the big idea was. The guy on the other end replied that the city would be much better off if everyone rode a bike: environment, health, etc. Bill disagreed vociferously. The plan would be unworkable for the “vast majority” of people. It’s unconscionable how the bike-riding “minority” is trying to hijack city hall for it’s own nefarious purposes. How many people would use this extra lane anyway? Numbers! How many people, really?! TELL ME HOW MANY OF YOU SONS OF BITCHES THERE ARE!

The interviewee couldn’t come up with any stats.

How typical! Bill was sure it wasn’t a lot of people, not like drivers; there’s a lot of those, definitely a “vast majority”.

As Bill launched into another tirade, this was pretty much the end of the dialogue. Perhaps the interviewee left the conversation, maybe Bill hung up on him. The voice on the other end of the line simply stopped attempting to speak in between the Carroll deluge.

Now with only himself to convince, Bill kept absentmindedly knocking the imaginary nail while slowly descending into something resembling normalcy, all the while trying to re-frame the topic so that even the thickest of us would understand how awful it really was.

The phone lines were opened up.

The first caller agreed with Bill’s assertions and managed to earn himself a second sentence. “Why not lead a protest group like the Tamils?” he asked. “I can’t get involved,” replied Bill. “If you’re famous and lead a protest, they’re all over you. Somebody else needs to do this. Are you listening, Toronto? I’m so sick and tired of…”, and so on.

And then came the traffic report.