So just how big is Ajax? Well, it’s soooo big….

'Near to far' rendering of mine looking towards Kamloops (from Stop Ajax Mine website).

What a strange delegation it is that sits down with federal Environment Minister Peter Kent in Ottawa Thursday to discuss a panel review for the proposed Ajax mine.

A Kamloops mayor who opposes such a review, and an MP who also opposes the review, have been assigned the task of convincing Kent that he should order the review.

More precisely, the mayor’s opinion, as he has articulated it, is that it’s too early to ask for the review, while our MP does not think it is necessary at all. She agreed to set up the meeting only because it might give “comfort” to the majority of City council who over-rode Mayor Crankypants on the matter.

With such enthusiasm, how can this pair fail at their mission?

TNRD director Ronaye Elliott and City public works director David Duckworth — who knows a lot about roads, less about mines — will accompany them, so maybe they can be of assistance.

The mayor offers reassurance that “a signal” will be sent. “It’s to make sure the terrain and proximity to things are well understood.”

The mayor is correct when he identifies the key community issues as relating to terrain and proximity, i.e. size.

So just how big is Ajax?

The Stop Ajax Mine website has several maps of the project, including “an interpretive rendering” the Kamloops Area Preservation Association unveiled at a pre-election forum early in November.

Another map, an aerial photo overlaid with the main components of the mine, carries the comment that the “footprint of the mine is bigger than all of Aberdeen, Sahali, Dufferin and downtown Kamloops.”

According to my old eyes, that’s not an exaggeration. Kamloops is roughly 375 square km. including all its outlying areas; the mine is not nearly that but, let’s face it, it’s big.

The north waste rock management facility, for example, at two km. by 1.8 km., would be about twice the size of McArthur Island — including all the fields, the stadium and the Sports and Events Centre — and double the height of the TRU student-residence tower.

The east waste rock management facility would be as wide as the Kamloops Airport runway is long.

Tailings storage, a kilometer wide and 3 km. long, approximates the dimensions of the North Shore, not including Brocklehurst.

The open pit, two and a half kilometers wide by a kilmeter long, would be bigger than the downtown core. When it reaches 500 meters in depth, it will be two-thirds as deep as Mount Paul is high.

That’s a pretty big hole in the ground.

All of which makes for very impressive terrain, and very impressive proximity. The mine operations will, at the least, take up as much land area as the most developed residential and commercial communities of Kamloops. And it will be virtually adjacent to them.

So when people think in terms of Aberdeen NIMBYism, think again. The back yard for this mine will be all of Kamloops.

When a reluctant mayor and even more reluctant MP “send a signal” to the feds, let us hope the impressive mass of this mine proposal, right next door to where the people of Kamloops live, is part of the message.

There can be no more compelling reason for a federal panel review, surely, than that.

Another Kamloops mayor had a close election call

Peter Milobar isn’t the only Kamloops mayor to have had a close call in an election.

If memory serves me correctly, it was 1980 when incumbent mayor Mike Latta had a scare. Regarded as a competent, people-friendly and popular mayor, he was supposed to sale through the election that year without a challenge. But retired nurse Dorothy Belleau, who had no community experience of note, and no previous involvement in politics, decided to go up against him.

Mike Latta vs. Dorothy Belleau in mayoral race, 1980.

There was one other candidate in the race — Terry Shaw, who liked to run for everything.

Come election day, there was no reason to suspect anything but a Mike Latta romp. Yet, as the polling stations began reporting, it was surprisingly close. Latta won almost every poll, but not by much. If you can’t make out the numbers on the accompanying picture, the final count was Latta, 6,017 to Belleau’s 4,436. Shaw pulled in 546. (By the way, the name Rothenburger shows up in that tally as well, placing second in the school board election.)

Unlike this year’s election, there were no hints that Latta was in any kind of trouble, and I’ve never heard a good explanation as to what happened. But Latta went on to serve as mayor for eight years, later being appointed a citizenship judge, a post he held between 1987 and 1992.

He passed away in Vernon a few years ago.

CBC debate has its roots in old radio rivalry

That IS Anna Maria Tremonti.

CBC Radio drives me nuts.

Every time Anna Maria Tremonti ends an interview with “That IS Joe Blotz, who spoke with us from our studio in London,” it drives me nuts.

When Jeff Douglas mucks up his lines on those little slices of life he does for As It Happens, it drives me nuts.

Every morning, when I listen to the Kelowna show ripping off another story from a community newspaper because the mother corp. refuses to invest in local reporting, it drives me nuts.

And if I have to listen to one more self-satisfied homage to itself for having been around 75 years, I swear I’ll go nuts.

But would I want to do without Definitely Not The Opera, Stuart McLean (though I’d appreciate it if he’d finish his sentences at the end instead of in the middle), Rex Murphy’s Cross Canada Checkup or any number of other first-class programs? Well, no, life would not be worth living.

In other words, I, like every other Canadian, have a love-hate thing going with our national broadcaster. Bottom line is, please keep shoveling my tax dollars into the CBC so I can continue being driven nuts.

That, however, is not what the current community debate is really about. City council’s discussion of the CBC last week has generated a great public hair-pulling over whether the CBC is worth what we all pay for it, and whether council should be involved.

But underlying the whole thing is the dog-eat-dog competition that characterizes the radio industry in Kamloops. Though Coun. Pat Wallace is being pilloried for her stance against subsidies to the CBC, her position today is absolutely consistent with her position of years gone by against out-of-town radio entrepreneurs.

Local stations do not want more competition either for revenue or audience, and will do whatever they can to avoid it. As a result, there is no love lost between Radio NL and its Broadcast Centre competitors.

Back in 2005, for example, NL applied to the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission for a new country music station. Three other applicants, none local, also wanted new licences.

It seemed a routine endorsement, so when NL asked for a letter of support, council agreed. “I don’t mind exactly telling the other ones to get lost, frankly, out of Toronto,” Wallace said at the time.

It seemed a rather strange thing to say, given that Kamloops is always trying to attract business from other places, but she felt strongly about supporting local business against new competition.

Broadcast Centre, though, was distinctly unhappy about it.

“If this application is approved, it will result in a significant reduction of service in radio in Kamloops,” said news director Doug Collins.

His rationale was that the Broadcast Centre (though not locally owned) was also a good local corporate citizen.

NL president Robbie Dunn called the Broadcast Centre’s attempt to throw up barriers tawdry, unseemly, disgusting and misleading, not necessarily in that order.

So, whether the prospect of increased local competition is from an established local station, or from “outside,” it’s a sensitive matter.

And when the “outside” challenge comes in the form of a publicly subsidized broadcaster, Wallace is going to have something to say about it.

I love the smell of ink ruboff in the morning

I like to tweet once a year, whether I need to or not.

This will gain me a few new nicknames, I’m pretty sure. Dinosaur, Troglodyte, Luddite and Idiot come to mind. Well, okay, I’ve been called Idiot before.

It’s quite possible, after this, that I’ll also be called to the publisher’s office.

Here’s what I think: newspapers should get the hell off the Internet. Life isn’t a video game; it’s serious stuff, intended for adult audiences.

Newspapers pay good money to people to write stories and take pictures, then we hand the stuff over free of charge to the freeloaders on our website.

A day later, we give it to our paying customers. They’re the ones who still love the smell and feel of ink rub-off in the morning, who faithfully make up 90 per cent of our readership.

Really, what would be lost? Reporters, instead of spending City council meetings texting and tweeting each other about the colour of the mayor’s tie and what time they’re meeting for beer, would have to get back to work and write some real copy.

Some of the knuckle-dragging conspiracy theorists — you know the ones I mean, the nasties who hide behind nicknames and populate newspaper websites with their abusive invective, for that is the sum total of their life skills — would have to go outside once in awhile and breathe some fresh air.

Maybe they’d pick up a newspaper, in which case they’d be a thousand times better informed than they are now.

Newspapers are not about instant news; they’re about depth and breadth. The adolescents graduating from J school think in-depth is 140 characters, including silly contractions. That, apparently, is the limit of their attention span.

They think civilization is hanging on their next tweet. I say to them, if you want to do something outstanding with your Twitter app, start a revolution. Otherwise, give it up. You’re ruining journalism.

It’s not about context any longer, or even accuracy. Like children anxious to be the first to tell the latest gossip, reporters have joined the rumour-mongers and half-truthers who spread falsehoods and innuendo just because they can.

I tweet about once a year, whether I need to or not. Pretty much every day, I get email messages saying so-and-so is now following me on Twitter — I think some people appreciate not getting bothered with unwanted information.

We’re so focused on sending and receiving “breaking news” that I truly think we’ve lost our ability to figure out what’s important.

In the old days, you could thumb through the paper, scan the headlines and set your priorities. Nowadays, if there isn’t an app for that, forget it.

I confess I implemented Facebook and Twitter for this newspaper a couple of years ago in a moment of insanity (from which I’ve fully recovered), before I came to realize that people who walk around staring at their smartphones have fallen victim to the lure of gadgetry and keeping up with the Jobs’s. They’re the ones who stood in line for Polaroid cameras and Sony Walkmans; now it’s anything that begins with ‘i.’

I say, let us throw off the shackles of electronic slavery and get back to telling stories accurately and thoroughly, for people who care, in full sentences.

mrothenburger@kamloopsnews.ca

www.armchairmayor.wordpress.com

On Twitter @melrothenburger

 

If Hydro is trying to kill me, it will have to get in line

“Dear Customer,” says the letter, which arrived just this week.

‘WE ARE EXCHANGING YOUR OLD METER WITH A NEW SMART METER.

“Every home and business in B.C. relies on electricity; however, we face the challenge of an aging electricity system…. Exchanging your old meter to a new smart meter will create the foundation for modernizing B.C.’s electricity system.”

Fiona Taylor and Cindy Verschoor from B.C. Hydro visited The Daily News this week.

In a few weeks, it says, installers from Hydro or Corix, the contractor, will be in my area to exchange my old meter with a new smart meter.

Some time between 8 a.m. and 8 p.m., a guy in a Hydro or Corix truck will arrive, knock on my door and ask to make the swap. If I’m not home, they’ll do it anyway.

Excellent. I say, welcome Hydro. Can I offer coffee and pie?

On this matter, I must disagree with those — including politicians — who worry that emissions from the new meter will make me glow in the dark.

There is so much bafflegab and fear-mongering on the matter of smart meters that it has become white noise.

If I worried about every dire consequence promoted by the harbingers of doom, I’d die from stress.

If Hydro is trying to kill me, it will have to get in line. There are so many things that are going to kill me, I figure it’s a race for what comes first, and I may as well enjoy the ride.

Vitamins, for example, are going to kill me one way or another. If I don’t take enough, I will die. If I take too many, I will die. Take your pick of studies that say one or the other.

I bought something last weekend that came in a plastic bag. Printed on the bag was a warning that “This is not a toy” and I should not put it on somebody’s head. Good advice.

After being told for years to look after the ol’ prostate, some researcher came out a couple of weeks ago and said don’t worry about it, something else will probably kill me first.

If that doesn’t cheer you up, how about the fact more people die from having coconuts dropped on their heads than from shark attacks. Seriously, I’ve done the research. Always look up.

Incidentally, every bear season, we hear of people being attacked and killed by bears, but more people are attacked by moose than bears. (I throw that tidbit in for free.)

Speaking of things that will kill you, it wasn’t that long ago that the Interior Health Authority suggested people had a better chance of being struck by lightning than they did dying from a dirty surgical instrument or a contaminated colonoscopy procedure at Royal Inland.

I found that very encouraging.

The old saying, “I could get run over by a bus” is more than an old saying. Hundreds of people are killed by buses (in China, where they are all crazy drivers, it’s thousands, and that doesn’t include the people killed IN buses).

You might break your neck falling down stairs, choke on a chicken wing, or get an aneurism sitting too long on an airplane. You could die from second-hand cigarette smoke.

And go easy in the sack — too much sex is a killer.

Just about anything in this world can kill you. So, Hydro, bring on the smart meter.

Our community’s love-hate relationship with the Red Bridge

Coun. Tina Lange, KCBIA manager Gay Pooler, Mel and Heritage Commission chair Andrew Yarmie unveil plaque at Red Bridge on Wednesday.

Every time I drive across the Red Bridge, I wonder whether I’ll emerge on the other end with both mirrors intact. All drivers, I think, have a love-hate relationship with that bridge — we love its oldness, we hate its narrowness.

Yesterday, I was privileged to take part in a small ceremony at the bridge to mark a project of the Heritage Commission and the Communities In Bloom Committee aimed at drawing attention to the heritage importance of the bridge. I was asked to be there because, while I was mayor, I promoted the idea of heritage designation for the Red Bridge.

That was eventually accomplished, but the two groups want to take it a step further by creating an informational spot at the Lorne Street end that will include a kiosk explaining the bridge’s history. For now, there’s a small planted area and a plaque, which we unveiled at the ceremony (it’s been awhile since I’ve been asked to unveil a plaque).

Many people might not know that this is the third Red Bridge in that spot. The first was built in 1887; this one was built in 1937, and had a projected lifespan of 30 years. How wrong they were; 75 years later it’s still standing and in full use. Engineers constantly talk about how it has only a few years of useful life left, yet it’s still there.

I was also asked to say a few words at the ceremony, so I noted the above, and also pointed out that structures other than buildings often have heritage importance as well.

At home, we have a silk-screen print by the great regional artist Steve Mennie, called Bridges, which he did in 1999. It features the CN bridge and the Red Bridge. When Art Charbonneau was B.C.’s transportation minister, I wrote about my disappointment when the old wooden decking of the Red Bridge was removed and replaced with ashphalt.

It made practical sense, because the wood decking would wear down and had to be replaced every year, but I lamented the rosion of its historic look. Art sent me over a piece of the wood decking as a souvenir. I still have it at home, where I can now not only look at the bridge via the Mennie print any time I want, but reach out and touch a piece of it.

Colleen Stainton told me after the ceremony she researched the naming of the bridge and found out it’s not called the Red Bridge based on its paint job. All bridges of its type came to be known as Red Bridges due to the colour of fir used in their construction, she says.

Congratulations to the Heritage Commission and CIB for taking on the job of raising awareness of the importance of the bridge.

 

Only one small disappointment in Gordon Lightfoot concert

“Ribbon of Darkness,” Syd said last night as we listened to Gordon Lightfoot in the Interior Savings Centre. “He’s gotta do Ribbon of Darkness.”

Sure enough, after opening with a few of his lesser-known songs, he turned to what he called his “more familiar” material, including Ribbon of Darkness.

“Early Mornin’ Rain,” said Syd. “He’s gotta do Early Mornin’ Rain.” After sitting on edge for awhile longer, there it was, Early Mornin’ Rain.

Gordon Lightfood at Interior Savings Centre. (Daily News photo)

“If You Could Read My Mind,” Syd said. “He’s gotta do If You Could Read My Mind.”

“No,” I said. “Edmund Fitzgerald. He’s gotta do Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”

I’d come prepared to be disappointed. At 73, how good could Gordon Lightfoot be? He’ll probably have some second-rate band open for him, then come on stage and massacre his oldies with an attempt at re-inventing them, I thought. But no, it was all Lightfoot, vintage Lightfoot.

I bought my first Gordon Lightfoot LP when I was 18. I remember that day, I remember the store, I remember the thrill of putting it on my old record player. I still have it. Little did I know Syd had fallen in love with Gordon Lightfoot when she was barely out of Kindergarten. After 28 years of marriage, we’re still finding things we have in common.

His distinctive, reedy voice isn’t as strong as it used to be, but it didn’t matter. It was like family coming back together after being apart for many years, the crowd quickly warming to this man who has made such a mark on Canadian music.

I almost missed Edmund Fitzgerald. He opened the second set with it while I was visiting the men’s room. The audience thought they’d died and gone to heaven, borne on the wings of the greatest balladeer in our country’s history. And his voice, rather than weakening, grew stronger in the second half, bolstered, perhaps, by Lightfoot’s increasing sense of comfort with an appreciative house.

“Railroad Trilogy,” said Syd. “He’s gotta do Canadian Railroad Trilogy.”

“Encore,” I said. “He’s saving it for the encore. Big finish.”

Of course he would do Railroad Trilogy for his encore. Money in the bank. A given.

Two hours after he’d started, the concert was over, too soon, and Lightfoot and his four-piece band left the stage. The audience stood, the applause and cheering reached its crescendo, and Lightfoot and his band came back. Now, time for Railroad Trilogy.

“This one is a toe tapper,” he said. “We’re gonna tap our way outta here.”

Toe tapper? Railroad Trilogy is many things, but it’s not a toe tapper.

No, it was Blackberry Wine, a toe tapper for sure, but not Canadian Railroad Trilogy. He finished up and walked off the stage again. The crowd cheered. Now, for the big finale, the return to stage for Railroad Trilogy.

Nothing. The crowd got up and started to file out. Syd and I stared at each other.

“Impossible,” she said.

“It can’t be,” I said. “How could he not finish with Railroad Trilogy?”

After all hope had fled, we, too, dejectedly left the building. It was the single disappointment in an otherwise lovely evening. That, and the fact there was no kiosk flogging CDs. Syd really wanted that CD.

Listening to Syd singing Railroad Trilogy on the way home, complete with her own rendition of the instrumentals, wasn’t the same. Better than nothing, mind you, but what we’d yearned for, expected, were sure of, was Gordon Lightfoot performing the greatest Canadian ballad of all time.

Despite that, everyone who was there is thankful for his first-ever Kamloops concert. In the shower this morning, I found myself belting out Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Different strategies worked for different council candidates

Councillor-elect Ken Christian talks to media, beside Mayor Peter Milobar. (Daily News photo)

An election that was supposed to be about issues wasn’t about issues at all — and the results show it.

Ken Christian came out in favour of the parkade, and he topped the election for councilors. John DeCicco came out in favour of the parkade, and he placed 11^th, losing his seat after 12 years of service.

DeCicco came out in favour of the Ajax mine, Donovan Cavers came out against it, most of the rest waffled. Cavers won. There are no clues in this new council as to which way they’ll lean.

If it wasn’t about issues, what was it about? Name recognition and how they got it.

Christian has been on the school board since Hector was a pup. People already know his name. That was his key.

Nelly Dever made up for lack of name recognition with an expensive multi-faceted and multi-media campaign. She used the gamut of signs, advertising and Internet, emphasizing her business experience and ability to work with groups.

I’m still puzzled over the ear-lobe thing and I’m not sure what cutting her own hair has to do with her ability to be a good politician — too much sharing — but maybe voters were interested.

Arjun Singh used a well-orchestrated campaign to overcome the reputation he gained during a former term in office as an inarticulate bumbler.

Singh did a very smart thing — he not only stayed away from the issues, but he ignored what pretty much everyone else was doing, which was to speak in generalities about the wonders they would accomplish if elected.

Instead, he focused on his own style, which amounts to good ol’ everyday Arjun, there to listen, to be inclusive, to work for the people of Kamloops.

It was a more sophisticated version of the “I’m listening” campaign he ran six years ago, and it worked.

Cavers started out with a name that was somewhat known from his previous Green party candidacies.

Under-funded, he worked with what he had, starting with those bus wraps and then flooding media with daily updates on his campaign. So much so that we received a complaint from the wife of a candidate that we were giving Cavers too much ink. Mind you, that candidate never gave us a single advisory on his activities, and Cavers was so persistent we starting ignoring much of what he gave us.

If one were to analyze what worked the best for candidates, you’d have to say it was different things for different people.

Those who didn’t, missed out. Andy Philpot, for example, failed to capitalize on his reputation as a great community volunteer. He needed glitz.

As for issues, in the end there was only one issue, and his name is Mayor Crankypants. As he writes out his thank-you cards to Gordon Chow and Brian Alexander, who split the anti-Milobar vote and saved him, he’ll have to think about how he can change.

It won’t be easy. He lives in a box that limits his ability to engage the public. “I don’t have any problem with doing things differently,” he says, and sounds not the least bit enthusiastic about it.

Thinking outside the box will be a challenge.

A little bit right, a little bit wrong on civic election preditions

Dieter Dudy arrives at his election-night gathering (Daily News photo)

I got some things right in my election predictions, though that’s not saying much.

I predicted that Peter Milobar would win, but then, so did everyone else. I said he would be chastened and boy, was he chastened. Embarrassingly so. If not for a split vote, Dieter Dudy would be our new mayor.

I thought Tina “It’s Brilliant!” Lange would be in trouble but she wasn’t.

I said two incumbents would be defeated, but only one went down.

I figured Nelly Dever, based on her mediocre performance at forums, and on her lack of much of a platform, would run ninth or 10th, but she grabbed the eighth and final spot for council.

I was surprised how strongly Marg Spina polled.

I’m disappointed for my two coffee buddies, John DeCicco and Peter Sharp, though they both knew they were in for a fight.

More later.

This is the day to answer the call, in more ways than one

Not everyone enjoys the convenience of the modern toilet.

This is a very big day for all of us. A day when we have to think very carefully about things, about what’s most important.

In short, we must think about plumbing.

Oh, you were thinking Election Day. No, it’s bigger than that; it’s World Toilet Day.

On this day (and I’m not making this up), we celebrate the loo, the head, the john, the latrine, the privy, the throne and, yes, the porta-potty (shout-out for Occupy Kamloops!).

In other words, this is a day for potty humour. (Guy walks into a bar, asks, “May I use your washroom?” Bartender says…)

Oh, there’s a serious message behind World Toilet Day. An estimated 2.6 billion people do not have the convenience of Thomas Crapper’s invention. (Actually, there’s some dispute about whether Mr. Crapper should really be given the credit.)

The 10^th annual World Toilet Summit starts next week in China. It’s going to talk about public sanitation. Lots of people will be there.

Still, we should spare a moment to go vote. The campaign is over, the promises have all been made, and by late tomorrow morning our highways and byways should be sign-free, or close to it.

Looking back over the past few weeks, I’m of the view that the election campaign demonstrated our maturity as a community.

For example, though I’ve spent much of that time happily bashing the candidates, listing the ways in which they don’t measure up, they’re still talking to me. They understand it’s not personal. Or, more likely, they don’t give a damn what I have to say about them.

Many people say it was a humdrum campaign, that the candidates didn’t have enough ideas, that they didn’t get mad enough, that it was the same old political talk we get from politicians at all levels.

But, rather than thinking of the campaign as dull, think of it as civil. We are, after all, Canadians. The forums were mostly quiet, uneventful affairs. Even the media-sponsored forum — though, as always, the most raucus of the bunch — was marked by a respectful non-tension between candidates and the audience.

One candidate told me he would like to have seen the candidates “out of their polite skins, and having some fun with it.” Canadians, he said, “are far too polite to ‘debate.’ Ripping into someone might have been seen as negative.”

True, and we Canadians would not want to be negative, but at least the campaign wasn’t marred by anything nasty. The roughest it got was a little lawn-sign vandalism.

One can draw from the campaign a conclusion that Kamloops is a more united place than it used to be. No longer is Kamloops defined by the feud between the North Shore and the South.

And not once did I hear mention of ward systems. Finally, it would seem, Kamloops has come to realize that the at-large system of electing councillors works, and that a ward system would take us back to the pre-amalgamation days of guerilla politics that make any current-day disagreements look like a Ms. Manners workshop.

So, today, as you answer the call to vote, or the call to Nature, think about how civilized we have it here in River City, where almost every toilet flushes, and the politics are oh so civilized.