Booze, Sex and Municipal Politics

Would it be tasteless to compare Saturday’s municipal election to a drunken one-night stand? Probably, but the boss is away this week, and of all the things Monday’s been called after 33 years of starting fires and lining litter boxes, tasteful ranks low on the list, sandwiched somewhere between objective and virtuous.

This ill-considered simile dawned on me Saturday morning as I walked away from my local polling station after feeding my ballot through the electronic scanner and was suddenly seized with a pang of regret. In a city already pregnant with problems, what if my choices were the wrong ones? What if we become further infected by the lamentable condition that led to an outbreak of high-end condos and simultaneous blindness to the plight of our more downtrodden citizens—something like herpes, but with less itching?

Think about it. Elections and one-nighters seem to come around right when you need them most, at times when you’re fed up with the way things are and you’re looking to throw caution to the wind. Both represent an outlet for long latent passions to bubble to the surface. And so the quest begins.

Attending an all-candidates meetings is not unlike a fishing expedition at the local nightspot. You stumble around the room in a haze; there’s a blur of faces, a confusion of words as you narrow down your choices. You look for someone who intrigues you, someone who captivates you, someone with whom you would feel comfortable sharing your bed—or in the case of aspiring politicians, your tax dollars. And like locking eyes across a crowded dance floor, you eventually connect with the candidates that speak to your innermost desires for the place you call home.

For elections, as for booze-induced romps, the courtship is a brief one before final decisions must be made. And of course, the main event is over before it’s begun.

Then, the awkward silence.

Is there regret over the deed done? Second thoughts about the choices you’ve made? Did you protect yourself against unforeseen outcomes? Or maybe you strut away, confident in your decision. As voter turnout proves again and again, municipal elections, like one-night stands, are private events shared only by those intimately involved.

Looking back on Saturday’s vote, which brought a left-leaning posse to power in Victoria, let’s ignore the cynicism spawned from years of watching our city become a crude caricature of what it could, and should, be. There is much to celebrate in the Garden City, and the time is long overdue for us to step into our natural role as a green leader, an exemplar of sustainable transportation and a model of compassion for citizens who have fallen through dark cracks and need a hand finding their way out. And like a one-night stand that sparks a lifelong love affair, let’s hope Saturday’s election results mark the start of something good.

If not, I’m going back to the bar.