사진은 오전회의를 마치고 점심시간을 갖기위해 정회한후 각자 갈곳으로 가고 있는 시의원들. 아래 시장을 비롯한 시의원들의 급료내역과 Allowance를 보면 기가 찹니다. 그리고 그들이 토의하는 내용을 보면, 담당지역을 대변한다고 하면서, 실제로는 지역구민들은 그내용을 관철키위해 시의원과 사전에 협의해 본 적이 없는 그런 내용들 뿐인데.....겉다르고 속다른, 체면도 공직자로서의 기본 자세가 전연없는, 우리같은 보통 시민들도 사용하기 꺼리는 저속한 말들을, 정신나간 망나니들처럼 막말을 해대고..... 한예로 어느 지역의 개발을 위해 집짖는 업자들이 신청하여 토의 하는데, 여러가지 이유를 부쳐 Developer들이 내야 하는 세금을 면제 해줘야 한다고 밀어 부치는데, 이유는 그렇치 않으면 지금같은 불경기에 그들이 개발을 할 이유가 없다는 핑계를 대고, 면세로 허가를 해 줍니다. 그러면 그비용은 누가 담당 하는가? 바로 토론토 시민들이 그만큼 세금을 더 내서 부담 한다고 하는군요. 그래서 매년, 금년같은 어려운 불경기에도 토론토시는 제산세를 7%(?)올린것을 미루어 알수 있었읍니다. 그리고 아래 시장을 비롯한 시의원들의 일년 급료및 Allowances를 보면 기가 찹니다. 그들이 받아가고, 또 업무명목으로 집행하는 예산은 사회에서 엘리트라고 불리는 전문가들이 일년내내 벌어도 그액수가 안됨을 알게 됩니다. 문제는 그런데도 이러한 엉터리, 생산성이 전연 없는 시의회를 개편 하거나 개선할 조짐은 전연 보이지 않고..... 아래 문구는 이러한 시의회를 이끌어 가기위해, 또 토론토시민들을 위해 봉사 하겠다고 다음 시장 선거에 출마 하겠다는 여러 유명 인사들에게 경고하는 문구가 인상적입니다. 즉 한떼의 고양이 몰이를 하는것 보다, 엉터리 망나니 집단인 시의회를 이끌어 가는게 훨씬 더 어려울 것임을 명심 하라는 내용입니다. 내년에도 금년에 인상된 Portion이상으로 재산세가 오를 전망이라는 말들이 떠돌고 있는데, 그혜택은 어떻습니까? 쓰레기는 몇년전만 해도 일주일에 2번씩 수거해 갔었는데..... 지금은 격주, 즉 이번주는 젖은 쓰레기, 그다음주에는 재활용 쓰레기.... 그것도 양이 안차 Garbage Bin을 제작하여 각가정에 보내면서, 별도의 bin 값을 재산에서 포함시켜 걷어 갑니다. 눈을 부릅뜨고 지켜 보세요. Why exactly would anyone want the job of mayor? RICHARD LAUTENS/TORONTO STAR Toronto city councillors break for lunch after a morning of not uncharacteristic bickering. And that was over an initiative most of them supported. CITY COUNCIL BY THE NUMBERS 1 Mayor 44 Councillors 53 Committees 4 Community councils $166,985.00 Mayor's salary $99,153.60 Councillor's salary $2,599,400 Mayor's overall budget, includes salaries and benefits for 23 full-time staff $258,657 Overall budget for each councillor, includes salary (not benefits) for three full-time staff THE BIGGEST GOVERNMENTS IN CANADA, BY ANNUAL EXPENSES* Canada: $258.6 billion Ontario: $108.9 billion Quebec: $66 billion B.C.: $39.3 billion Alberta: $36.4 billion Manitoba: $12.68 billion Saskatchewan: $10.2 billion Toronto: $8.7 billion N.S.: $8.3 billion New Brunswick: $7.1 billion Nfld.: $7 billion P.E.I.: $1.4 billion * Some figures are for 2008-09, others for 2009-10; list excludes other large municipal governments smaller than Toronto but larger than some of the provinces – Compiled by Joanne Madden and Deborah Wingate, Toronto Star Library Even though the initiative enjoyed overwhelming support among councillors ― only two voted against ― they still stooped to shrill bickering Mayoral candidates beware: Herding cats might be easier than dealing with dysfunctional city council Oct 04, 2009 04:30 AM KENNETH KIDD FEATURE WRITER It is a numbing, wearying start to the day. Inside a 16-page bundle of green-coloured paper sits the proposed agenda for Toronto City Council, and one of the first orders of business is to decide, well, what will actually remain on the agenda and what will be "held," put off for another day. There are 177 items, nearly all of them completely opaque to the uninitiated, from "Torbarrie Road – Parking Regulation Amendments (Ward 7)" to "Operating Variance Report for the Four-month Period Ended April 30, 2009 (Ward All)." Matters deemed urgent are shaded grey, which would include "Supportive Housing Services at Cliffwood Manor (Ward 24)." It goes on, page after page, with councillors rising to explain why this item should be put off, or that one now needs alteration or urgent attention. This is how the day begins in earnest for the governing body with a budget larger than many provinces. Memo to George Smitherman, John Tory and other would-be mayoral candidates: Are you sure you want to be part of this? AS THE NOON-HOUR begins to beckon, its attraction growing by the minute, council finally reaches what seems a lofty moment. A report from city staff has come to council for endorsement. It deals with six projects in which private developers have agreed to provide affordable housing as part of their plans. In return, the city will defer property taxes and waive development fees. "This is our opportunity to give a hand up to those who need it," says Councillor David Shiner, "to give respect to the families and singles who don't make $75,000 or $100,000 a year and have never had the opportunity to move into a clean, new home." One of those projects is slated for the ward of Councillor Mike Feldman, who knows that some residents will be opposed to any low-income housing going into their neighbourhood. "My constituents are going to go nuts," he says. "You know what? I don't care. This is more important than my constituents going nuts." And then it all starts to speedily unravel. Councillor Doug Holyday calls the housing plan a "backdoor" deal because constituents haven't been briefed about the accommodation for lower-income people. The air is soon thick with shouted rebuttals and innuendo. About how the sites are already zoned residential, how you can't pick your neighbours by income level. About how human rights are at stake, how the city's very motto is all about diversity. Amid the ongoing cacophony, Holyday despairs that he's not getting a chance to air his views. He looks to Speaker Sandra Bussin. Holyday: "Madam, you've gotta be fair here." Bussin: "I am trying to be fair." Holyday: "Trying to be fair, that's why you get yourself in so much trouble." The cacophony swells anew. Bussin: "Order, please." Holyday: "This is plain rude." "No, you're rude," retorts another councillor through the din. Bussin finally calls for the vote to be taken. Councillor Frances Nunziata: "Come on, children, quiet." Memo to Smitherman et al: Should you be taking a long, hard look in the mirror and asking yourself a simple question: 'Am I insane?' MYER SIEMIATYCKI, who teaches political science at Ryerson University, thinks he knows why council can be so dysfunctional, raw and messy. It's the lack of political parties, with their discipline and command structure. "There's no one holding individuals to a higher standard of comportment," he says. Instead, the mayor and 44 councillors effectively become an unstable collection of 45 single-member parties, answering mostly to themselves. "It can lend itself to a mean-spirited, antagonistic scene. It looks like a schoolyard." One reason for the easy belligerence is that incumbency conveys such a huge electoral advantage to sitting members. They're almost impossible to remove, and they know it. They have name recognition, voter turnout is generally low, and those who do vote mostly don't know where any councillor actually stood on most of the issues in the previous term. "If you want to have accountability," argues Siemiatycki, "you need to know who was responsible for what got done." The presence of parties is a fairly convenient way of achieving that. You can easily point a finger of blame or credit, which is why the turnover of politicians at the federal and provincial levels is so much higher. But Smitherman, Tory & Co. take note: If you're used to the tightly ordered realm of parliaments, descending to municipal politics can be an out-of-body experience. "Some of these senior-level politicians have no idea what's in store for them, especially if they have strong alpha qualities and they're used to people obeying orders," says Siemiatycki. "That's not how municipal council works." THE LUNCH BREAK finally arrives and councillors retreat to their offices. Outside, in Nathan Phillips Square, hundreds of people are happily scurrying about in the bright sunshine. It's Wednesday and farmers' stalls are everywhere, offering Niagara peaches and plums, honey in the comb, artisanal breads and cheese. It's a riot of life, colour. But from the periphery of the square, different narratives emerge. At the corner of Bay and Queen Sts., homeless Scott Boulard lies sleeping next to the bus shelter, his blue hoodie pulled up over his head. He shares his little red pillow with a half-eaten Nutri-Bar. Scarcely anyone looks at him, as downtown workers march off to restaurants and bars. No one seems to notice that there are seven brown lunch bags arrayed on the sidewalk next to Boulard's sleeping bag. Each of them contains a sandwich, an apple and a little fruit cup. Boulard, on the streets for seven years, later says he has no idea who brought him the lunch bags, or why. Further west, at the other side of the square, there's a statue of Winston Churchill. Bits of his eloquence are inscribed on plaques mounted at the base ("We shall not flag or fail ...") along with a 1963 tribute from John F. Kennedy: "He mobilized the English language and sent it into battle." No one pays much attention to the statue, either. SANDRA BUSSIN has reconvened council for its afternoon session, but she's soon vacating the speaker's chair to make a statement about her own conduct, not that of other councillors. Days earlier, she had called a radio phone-in show co-hosted by John Tory. Other callers were vigorously slagging Mayor David Miller. Bussin, a staunch loyalist, was calling to retort that Miller was the most "brilliant" municipal politician in the country, all the while refusing to give her last name and insisting, "No, I don't work for the city." Eventually outed by the station, Bussin has finally come to the point of apology, though not without mentioning how she "seldom" listens to Tory's show. "Sometimes we are all caught up in a moment and it perhaps was something I should not have done," Bussin tells council. "I do apologize to council if there is any reflection on council. I believed I was speaking on my own personal behalf." In the public gallery, almost directly opposite Bussin, sits Bruce Baker. He looks as if he has something large and flavourful in his mouth. A former executive assistant to Councillor Ron Moeser, Baker plans to run against Bussin in the next election and is savouring what he calls "a bonus." "Her past-due date has come and gone," says Baker, who politically tilts well to the right of Bussin. "What's gone on in the last six years (under Miller) is ridiculous. I think council showed signs of divisiveness right from the get-go." ON THIS DAY, the council chamber also sports what may be the only truly recreational spectator, and his name is Parthasaralhy Snivitsan, on a break from work as a forklift operator. It's his third visit, having first come during the lead-up to the summer strike by city workers. "It was the best time to come here," he says. "Yap, yap, yap." He likes all the preening stridency of the councillors, how emotional it sometimes gets. "It's like an entertainment channel. It's free, but better than TV." Yet, to him, it also speaks to something very compelling about his adopted homeland, Snivitsan having arrived in Canada from India. "At least you can come and express your opinion," he concludes, noting all the nations where that can't happen safely. "People should feel lucky to have a country like this." JOHN PARKER, rookie councillor, is sitting in his office, reflecting on the day's proceedings. He likes the way the staff report on affordable housing had come together. "The beauty of this process was that it was managed by staff and the results were determined by research and logic rather than political pressure," he says. And yet, even though the initiative enjoyed overwhelming support among councillors – only two voted against – they still stooped to shrill bickering. "The discussion this morning was 50 per cent productive and 50 per cent unproductive," says Parker. "That 50 per cent unproductive was not a reflection on the city council I would be proud of." But he does think council discussions are, in some ways, more genuine than those at the provincial level at Queen's Park, where Parker served as a backbencher in the Harris government. Back then, he'd naively expected lofty parliamentary debate on the issues of the day. What he found instead were "competing bumper sticker slogans," a theatrical display in which each party cooked up its talking points in advance and stuck to the script. "In the Legislature, it's not personal, because you arrive at work knowing you're going to do battle with the people on the other side of the aisle," says Parker. "You can be chummy, but when you put on your uniform, you play for your team." At city council, by contrast, "there are certain situations that become notoriously personal and they don't do any of us any good. "Sometimes you get the feeling that you'd get a better discussion around the average table in the local bar." But he declines despair, understands why even a George Smitherman or John Tory could still be so attracted to the circus. "It's the biggest city in the country. It's the most exciting city in the country. Who wouldn't want to be part of this process? "Anyone who looks at what goes on here, the good and the bad, would feel the urge to get in there and help do it right." "Sometimes we are all caught up in a moment and it perhaps was something I should not have done" Sandra bussin