Black is Back

Mr. 500 Words likes to think of himself as enlightened, socially progressive, compassionate. Ah, who am I kidding? I'm just a big softie.

So I can't tell you how delighted I am to see Conrad Black back in Toronto.

I mean, given all Stephen Harper's talk about being tough on crime and criminals, I was just floored when he rolled out the red and white welcome mat for the foreign felon before he was even released from his Florida prison cell.

And while I'm heaping praise on the P.M. for his big-heartedness, let me give a big shout out to the rich folks of Toronto's Bridle Path neighbourhood. No NIMBYism here: just a warm welcome for a humble ex-con to his Park Lane Circle halfway house.

Makes me proud to a Canadian. And I bet it makes you proud too, Con (I can call you "Con", right? Or do you prefer "Blackie"?).

So I, too, want to do my part and help you adjust to life on the outside.

They say prison changes a man, but Toronto has changed, too, in the five years you've been away, and if you're going to survive these mean streets, you're going to have to know the score.

First of all, there's a new mayor, guy named Ford, and he makes Mel Lastman look like Winston Churchill. I know you used to work for a newspaper, so the thing you need to know about Ford is, he hates reporters. But you have a car, so you should be OK. Oh, one more thing: if you're walking in the park and a big, angry guy runs up to you and tells you to drop your phone, just do it, OK?

Remember when your mom told you not to run with scissors? Well don't even walk with them in Toronto. The cops might shoot you. Seriously, man. And while you're at, get rid of the prison blues and orange jumpsuits; they look too much like hospital gowns.

And depending on who's in town, you might want to avoid large (or even small gatherings) downtown. Find other ways to occupy your time. And for heaven's sake, leave the bubble pipe at home. I'll explain later.

So, Con, even though you're down to your last $80 million and a handful of mansions, I want you to know you still have friends.

Good luck, dude.

Follow me on Twitter: @AeneasLane

Praising Arizona, Part 1

Just got back from a week and a half in Arizona. The Southwest is a place I've long wanted to see and not only were our expectations exceeded, but a lot of our preconceptions overturned.

Because light snow in Toronto delayed our departure, we had only twenty minutes to make our connection in Minneapolis. We arrived at concourse A and had to leave from concourse G. It's a good thing Minnesota is flat, because it felt like we ran halfway across it. We made our flight to Phoenix, only to discover at 1:30 am in the deserted terminal in Phoenix that our baggage hadn't. Delta said they'd try to get it to our hotel by the next afternoon, and off we headed (in the pouring rain – in Phoenix?) to the Crowne Plaza Phoenix Airport. A shout out to Nicole, who took pity on us and upgraded us to a suite (sweet!).

The next morning we headed to the Heard Museum. The Heard is outstanding. We spent the entire day there and received a solid orientation in the history, culture, and arts of the native peoples of Arizona. You can explore it for yourself by clicking on the link above.

How we got there will be of interest to people in Toronto: by light rail. There was a stop in front of our hotel and another a block from the Heard.

Phoenix has recently constructed a light rail system about thirty-five kilometres long, running from northern Phoenix, south into the downtown, and then east past the airport to the suburbs of Tempe and Mesa. The trains run down the middle of the street and seem to have signal priority, because we never stopped at a red light. We seemed to travel at 50-60 kilometres per hour and stations were about a kilometre apart.

Each train consists of two cars, though the station platforms are long enough for three-car trains. Each car is articulated, and has four doors on each side. The entry is low to enable wheelchair access.

Tickets are $1.75 a ride or $3.50 for a one-day pass, and are purchased with a credit or debit card on the station platforms. The cars were full, but not crowded on the Sunday morning and afternoon we rode, and people were proud and eager to talk about their new rail and how it was reviving Phoenix's downtown, where projects like Chase Field, the retractable roof ballpark, have recently been built. When the airport SkyTrain is completed, it will link to the light rail and mean a trip to downtown will take 15 minutes and cost $1.75.

We wanted to buy Bob and Doug tickets to Phoenix so they could see that light rail does not mean streetcars getting in the way of cars. This system seems tailor-made for arterial roads like Sheppard and Finch. We saw a lot of other things in Arizona that would scare the Ford twins, like roundabouts and bicycle lanes. These guys really need to get out more.

When we got back to our hotel, our bags were there. We watched the Oscars right to the end (the two hour time difference meant they were over just after 10:00), and got ready to head to Sedona the next day.

Still Confused?

Previously, I've described how you could tell if you might be turning into a Conservative (If you like your guns long and your census short, you might be a Conservative). You can diagnose yourself by clicking here and here.

However, I know that, for some of you, the fear persists. So, to reassure you, here are some ways to tell that you're definitely not turning into a Conservative.

• You think it's a bad idea to paint a giant bull's eye on the sides of our air force planes.
  
• You'd rather drive a Ford than vote for one.
  
• You think bullying a church-based human rights organization, falsifying a document to make it look like the recommendation of civil servants, and lying about it to a parliamentary committee makes you unfit to be a cabinet minister.
  
• You think you're safer protesting in Cairo than you are in Toronto.
  
• You've played the Tim Hudak drinking game: every time he says, "Ontario families," you take a drink. You were blotto in fifteen minutes.
  
• You think a secret deal to hand over control of Canada's borders and immigration policy to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security is probably a bad deal.
  
• You think that TV and radio stations shouldn't be allowed to broadcast "news" they know is false.
  
• You think, "If we build it, they will come," is not a good enough reason to spend nearly $10 billion on new prisons.
  
• You live in Toronto and you'd rather ride the bus than throw people under it.
  
• You live in Toronto and you wish you could vote in Calgary.
  
• You can think in sentences, not just bumper stickers.
  
• You own a pink bicycle. Extra points if it has plaid fenders.
  
• You admit you read the Toronto Star and watch the CBC.
  

There must be others. Send me you suggestions. I'll publish them.

Valentine’s Day

It's Valentine's Day, a day to celebrate love in its many forms. A day for hugs and kisses, hearts and flowers, wine and chocolate.

Here at 500 Words World Headquarters, we're big believers in the holiday. And since the old song says, "What the world needs now is love, sweet love," we'd like to offer Valentine's Day wishes for "love, sweet love" where we think there's "just too little of" it.

To Bob and Doug, the hoser twins running Hogtown: make love, not war, on your city. Stop viewing Toronto as a speedbump on the road to your favourite steakhouse in Mississauga. C'mon guys, get outa the car: walk around Kensington Market, take in a play, visit the ROM or the AGO, ride the Rocket, sit on a patio.

To taxpayers: we wish you'd fall in love with the idea of being citizens. Stop expecting your taxes to constantly go down while whining that infrastructure is falling apart, services are declining, and politicians are all liars. Start paying attention. Vote. Need a role model? Look at the Middle East.

To politicians: show us some love. Start talking to us in sentences instead of bumper stickers. The problems are hard; the solutions can't be that simple.

To Conservative MP Steven Blaney: we hope you'll be a bit more loving. The Québec City-area MP wants to require veiled Muslim women to remove their face coverings before voting. We're happy to report he's not trying to force them to remove their veils before they vote by mail.

To Québec: we still love you, but hey, how about some amour for Sikhs? Québec's National Assembly recently passed (unanimously) a motion banning Sikhs from entering while carrying their kirpans, a ceremonial dagger. And now the Bloc Québécois says it wants to see the same rule apply on Parliament Hill, where a Liberal MP from Ontario, Navdeep Bains (Mississauga-Brampton South) wears a kirpan.

To America: thanks for loving us. Seems the most recent Gallup World Affairs poll found that Americans view Canada more favourably than any other country in the world. We know you love our Bieber, but what aboot our health care?

To Ontario Conservative Leader Tim "Mini-Mike" Hudak: thanks, but no thanks. You've had commitment issues with your platform for eighteen months. Then, finally, this week you promise buck-a-bottle beer? We've gotten drunk and let you have your way with us before. All we were left with were the hangover and the bitter regret. It's not even good beer.

To Stephen Harper, couldn't you at least fake it? Loving democracy, I mean. When word broke that the Egyptian people had chased Mubarak from office, you (who shut down Parliament, twice) passionately embraced the moment: "I think the old expression is: 'They're not going to put the toothpaste back in the tube on this one.'" Then your government rolled over and went to sleep.

To you, my readers: I hope that on Valentine's Day, you love and are loved.

Getting My Groove Back

Some of you have remarked that I didn't maintain my usual blogging pace during the month of December. Perhaps you thought that, full of the good cheer of the season, I was inclined to go easy on the usual suspects. And while I won't deny that I freely partook of cheer over the holidays, there was a darker reason for my silence.

I have to admit that I was temporarily thrown off my game.

In my last post before Christmas, I confessed how I couldn't possibly make up anything more outrageous than Don Cherry's histrionics at Rob Ford's coronation or Bill Blair's gyrations over his involvement in the G20 civil rights abuses.

And then came the video images of Stephen Harper rocking out at the Tory caucus Christmas party. Crooning John Lennon's Imagine. Thumping out the Guess Who's Share the Land at the piano. Belting out the Stones' Jumpin' Jack Flash.

I was rendered speechless (and blogless).

For weeks afterward, I'd awake in a cold sweat. I couldn't shake the images: Tony Clement and Bev Oda getting their funk on, John Baird after a couple of ryes, Peter McKay lurking under the mistletoe.

I suspect I had a case of PTSD: Post Tory Seasonal Distemper.

But time, as they say, heals all wounds, and I have Rob Ford of all people to thank for taking my mind off these ghosts of Christmas just past.

Because this week I found myself pondering the meaning of gravy. Gravy, as in the trainloads Rob Ford claimed was in the Toronto city budget. It is, I suspect, one of those right-wing code words. Like Marie Antoinette's cake, gravy is what most people depend on for a decent life for themselves and their families. Gravy is libraries and swimming pools and social services and public housing and skating rinks and transit and after school programs and community centres. If you're a bus driver, garbage collector, or daycare worker, gravy is a living wage.

And that got me pondering the strange mental processes of Rob Ford and his allies. Fer instance: as a cure for traffic congestion on Toronto's streets, Ford eliminated the vehicle registration tax and proposed a transit fare hike and the cutting of bus routes. Seems all those cars aren't the problem, it's the buses, streetcars, and subway trains clogging the roads.

And then, only twenty-four hours later, even as I write this, it seems some magical gravy has been found and the fare increase has been called off.

Bait and switch? Cold feet? Confusion in the ranks? A sinister conspiracy?

It's good to be back to normal. In fact it's a gas.

I Can’t Make This Stuff Up

Sometimes I make stuff up. You know, like Conservatives standing up for democracy and human rights (November 29 post) or Tony Clement being a superhero (October 11 post).

But lately it's been getting harder. I mean, how do you compete with stuff like this?

Fer instance:

The newly-elected millionaire mayor of Toronto invites a millionaire TV sports celebrity who lives in another city to officially inaugurate him. The millionaire media celeb (who derives most of his income from performing his schtik on the public network) agrees, saying "People are sick of the elites and artsy people running the show. It's time for some lunch pail, blue-collar people."

In his inaugural speech, the newly-elected mayor calls on all councillors to work together. The visiting, celebrity (but apparently non-elite) millionaire, opines (while wearing a pink jacket) that pinkos "ride bicycles and everything." He then insults various members of council, calling them "left-wing kooks".

The newly-elected mayor declares, "The war on the car" is over, and moves to kill public transit projects underway. The elites will now have to drive, just like Joe Lunchpail.

Elected on a platform of fiscal responsibility, the mayor's move wastes $130 million already spent and risks incurring financial penalties for reneging on $1.3 billion in contracts already signed and machinery already purchased.

The mayor announces a tax freeze, abolition of the vehicle registration tax (costing $64 million), and his plan to hire 100 more police officers.

The mayor promises to balance the budget without cutting programs. He gets rid of free coffee for councillors. He also plans to cut their office budgets by $20K. Combined, the savings add up to a few hundred thousand.

The new mayor is reported to have a campaign debt of $650,000.

The visiting millionaire TV celebrity predicts the new mayor will be "the greatest mayor this city has ever seen."

Ninety-one Toronto police officers are fined a day's pay for removing their names tags so they couldn't be identified while beating peaceful protesters during the G20. That should eat up a chunk of their overtime.

Toronto police chief Bill Blair attacks the victim of one particularly vicious assault by police, as well as the provincial Special Investigations Unit. He then apologizes. Sort of.

Ontario ombudsman, Andre Marin, in his report on the infamous five metre law, calls it illegal and unconstitutional. It was used to harass, interrogate, and detain without charge thousands of people. Marin says it was requested by Blair. Blair says he regrets not explaining things better.

So far Blair still has his job. No police officers face charges or discipline over the acts of brutality.

Unlike some of his officers, Blair is a stickler when it comes to protecting the rights of the accused -- accused police officer, that is. He explains the delay in identifying the culprits and holding them accountable is because he has to follow procedures to the letter.

Federal auditor general Sheila Fraser finds that the ethics commissioner appointed by Stephen Harper acted unethically toward her staff.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.