Regular readers of this blog know of my enthusiasm for pneumatic waste collection. For years now, WaterfronToronto has been trying to get city hall to sign on to the idea for the West Don Lands. Well, I have just been tipped off to the news that Montreal has decided to install vacuum waste collection for its massive Quartier des Spectacles redevelopment.

Vacuum waste is the subject of my column in next month’s print edition, but it went to press before I could slip this latest news in, so I’m announcing it here. For now, suffice it to say that Toronto has lost its chance to become a North American showcase for an environmental technology that is quickly being adopted around the world.

On the latter point, Wells riffs on George Packer’s recent article in The New Yorker on how Republicans got the upper hand in American politics. I read Packer’s piece last night and was thinking the same thoughts as Wells: 40 years after the American right drew up a game plan to take over that country, Harper is trying to do the same in Canada. From where he sits—the most powerful seat in the country—it’s never too late to start. But don’t listen to me. If you’re curious, read Wells. If you’re still curious, read Packer. Riveting stuff.

Remember the decency, the decorum and the genteel aura of the 2003 bid, a campaign of substance in which Miller, John Tory and Barbara Hall debated so gracefully? It seemed great at the time, but in hindsight the nicety of it all was terribly overrated. The one thing I can promise you is that in a mayoral race featuring Miller, Smitherman and Ford, the decorum nonsense will get tossed into a truck and dumped in a Michigan landfill.

Smitherman is a polarizing figure; he’s at his best when he’s being mischievous, and therein lies his peculiar brand of political charm. If he tried to portray himself as the guy who can rise above petty politics, no one would buy the act—the gleam in those beady little eyes of his would give him away. Meanwhile, do not underestimate Ford’s ability to get under his opponents’ skin. He knows how to do only one thing: pound away at the issue of fiscal waste. He keeps grinding that axe, and never seems to tire. He’s like a kid who just won’t stop asking annoyingly simplistic questions: the parents inevitably give in to their tempers. Ford will bring out the worst in everyone. Film at 11.

Miller might try to rise above it all, but it’s hard to overcome two terms’ worth of steadily decreasing expectations. Miller once embodied the city’s energy and ambition. These days, he seems to mumble a lot. After five years on the job, he doesn’t have much in the way of showy accomplishments, which is why he seems beatable—and which is also why Smitherman and Ford will not be his only challengers. The more the merrier. This city needs the adrenalin rush that comes from a good political fight.

I have a sneaking suspicion that there is a sort of theoretical limit to transit, a ridership beyond which it cannot reach. I have no idea if anyone’s studied the concept, and I may be as full of hot air as Reynolds. But the truth is that mass transit involves compromises that are simply untenable for some segments of the population: people whose workdays involve travel between many locations, those who have to pick up the groceries and the kids on the way home, and so on. The greatest appeal of cars is that they are individualized transportation pods (let’s call them ITPs): they take you everywhere you need to go, door to door, with lots of room for passengers and freight. And we will never be rid of our dependence upon ITPs. They are too useful and too much fun to give up.

But there is another type of ITP: the bicycle. Properly outfitted, it can do almost everything a car can do. Outside my son’s daycare is a storage shed where parents can leave their strollers for the day while at work; one parent stores his bike’s kiddie trailer there every morning before riding off to work, then hitches it back up at pickup time. Granted, for some of those transit-impossible segments of the population, bikes will always be inadequate as well. But for many others they are a more workable solution than transit.

Which leads me to the following three public service announcements:

1.This week saw the launch of the Toronto Cyclists Union, a membership-driven organization that hopes to gather up all the city’s bicycle users—commuters, recreational riders, whomever—under a single umbrella. If you own a bike, you should join. 2.This Sunday will feature the second annual Bells on Bloor, a happy-go-lucky demonstration-cum-parade of cyclists along Bloor West, from High Park to Queen’s Park. Bikes, trikes, unicycles—anything on wheels that isn’t powered by an internal combustion engine—welcome. 3.My column about cycling in the June edition of Toronto Life is now available for free on the Web site. Happy reading.

“I’ve been exonerated. I’m innocent, whatever terminology you want to use,” is vintage Ford: he’s full of words, yet unable to figure out which are the right ones to describe the situation—so he throws them all out there. He even uses the outcome as a means of launching his mayoral bid. A victory, of sorts, for “fat fucks” everywhere.

Three of the current job openings are for what you might call “bureaucops,” policing positions that can be performed from the comfort of an office desk (no badge required). If you have it in for public servants, you can apply to become the new ombudsperson, who, according to the press release, will “receive, resolve and investigate public complaints related to the delivery of city services and programs.” But if it’s municipal politicians that you really can’t stand, then you might be better suited to the job of integrity commissioner, who evaluates ethical lapses in council members’ conduct, which happens often enough. David Mullan, the current integrity commish, is retiring at the end of August, though the job has not yet been posted. (Interview tip: the politicians are the ones doing the hiring, so make like you’re really mild-mannered.) If you think politicians are fine in theory, but in practice are corrupted by big business, consider the fine position of lobbyist registrar.

If you don’t really have a preference for who you get to boss around—if you fancy a sort of generalized authority over the largest possible number of people—then consider the position of TTC special constable, also known as transit cop, recently advertised in the Careers section of the Toronto Star. Depending on the outcome of an ongoing study, you might even get to carry a gun or Taser. Note that priggishness and distaste for social disorder (“good moral character and habits”) are important qualities in any successful applicant.

But if you’re not the control-freak type, there are still lots of other jobs available, including, for outdoorsy types, a parks and rec seasonal posting for a gardener. Just be sure to read the fine print: in addition to gardening, the job description includes “washroom cleaning.” Ick.

If you’ve been reading the Globe this past week, you’ve surely noticed that the TPA is the political equivalent of the Toronto Maple Leafs, with stories galore about internal rifts and hiring intrigue—all of which probably left you wondering why you should care. And why should you care? Because there are airplanes! Downtown! In the city! Apparently it’s a travesty.

Did you know Toronto is a city of neighbourhoods? That means there’s lots of places with homes where you can walk and look at the homes. Oh, you so do NOT have that in New York City! New York has boroughs, not neighbourhoods. It’s totally different. My neighbourhoods have their own unique shops and restaurants, like the Fox & Firkin or the Friar & Firkin or the Gull & Firkin. Cool, eh? See these homes here, around Chinatown? They’re not much to look at, but they have a riveting history. They were going to tear them down to build an expressway, except they didn’t! Neighbourhoods are one of the reasons Jane Jacobs called me North America’s greatest city. Who’s Jane Jacobs!? Oooooo-kaaaaay. You’re going to be a challenge, aren’t you?

This is Yonge-Dundas Square™. Actually it’s not a square; it’s an irregular polygon, just like Times Square in New York City. But it’s totally not like Times Square. It’s cleaner. And emptier. That’s a Sears there behind all that cleavage. It used to be an Eaton’s. Timothy Eaton was the greatest retailer in Canadian history. His company went bankrupt a long time ago. His stores were exactly like Sears, except that people from Rosedale would have been totally happy to be caught dead in Eaton’s. What’s Rosedale? It’s another neighbourhood! They have the nicest liquor store ever. Let’s go! No? Why not? Oh, what do you want to see the CN Tower for? It’s so touristy. And it’s not even the tallest building in the world anymore. It would be better if we visited one of my beautiful river valleys, but I don’t know where they are. Did you know Toronto is the greenest city in North America? Or at least we want it to be. Can’t you tell?

What? You want tickets to see a show? Oh, they kind of suck these days. Even those creepy guys in blue face paint are gone. They were anti-union. But you can see a riveting high-society show trial of former impresarios for free. Everyone’s talking about it. Wait! Leaving so soon? Can I ask if you were Somewhat Satisfied, Satis— You’ve got a plane to catch? There’s no subway link to the airport, but it’s a quick drive. Good luck with the traffic on the 401! Where are you going, anyway? The Rockies? Wow, that’s far. But you’ll come back, right? As my slogan says, “We’ll be ex-PECK-ting YOUUUUUUUU!” Don’t keep me waiting too long.

How ironic is it that this stretch of Eglinton features a row of car dealerships? I bought my car there two years ago. I have never gone back, not even for servicing. The road struck me as the most aggressive I’ve ever driven on. Heaps mentioned that the TTC’s Transit City Plan will completely overhaul the street’s design, and the light-rail transit lines will serve as a de facto traffic-calming device. But that’s years away. In the meantime, city hall and the cops might want to pay closer attention to a road that appears to be spiralling out of control.

In defence of keeping the TTC publicly owned, he writes that “the TTC—which recovers an almost unheard of 75 per cent of its costs from fares—is already more efficient, and less subsidized, than systems elsewhere that have sought out privatization to cut costs.” Yet this situation is precisely what would make the TTC attractive to private investors: minimal dependence upon subsidy, efficient operations and an endless supply of hostage-like customers. Indeed, in so many ways, existing conditions on the TTC resemble exactly what you’d expect from a privately owned system: expensive, overcrowded and only passably clean—designed to wring as much as possible from every dime dropped into the fare box.

I have never been a supporter of privatization of public transit, but given the current state of affairs, I’m left with two questions. One: Just what benefits do we reap from public ownership at this point in time? And two: What do we have to gain from refusing to at least study private ownership?

Haven’t had the time to digest this yet, but it seems like very pertinent information, dontcha think?

Final note: henceforth, I am changing the name of The Friday Pessimist to allow myself to blog on the matter any day of the week. Such entries shall henceforth be known as The Paniconomist.

It’s not like the joke-butt status won’t be earned. The biggest joke of all is the existence of a have-not province that is home to all the country’s major banks: Ontario has all the money yet can’t figure out a way to keep any for itself. Allow me to get the fun started with this knee-slapper:

Question: How does a Newfie pay for groceries? Answer: With his welfare cheque, paid for by Ontarie taxpayers. Question: How does an Ontarie pay for groceries?Answer: He borrows the money from his Newfie cousin.