Those were the good old days

I recently met up with  an old school friend I hadn’t seen for nigh on 37 years.  In the true spirit of schoolgirl best friends, we kinda just picked up where we left off. Oh there’s been plenty water under the proverbial bridge since those pubescent years back in the 70s, but reconnecting again after all those years was a smooth transition from giggly teens to life-weathered 50-somethings. The best part of the evening, bar the good food and wine at a secluded table at Spiga, was reliving some shared memories. Good times.

But it got me thinking of the good old days. You know, those days where, if you wanted to speak to a municipal official you just picked up the phone and dialed him or her directly – and they always answered, or got back to you.  I remember being able to sit down with the Town Clerk  (the equivalent of today’s City Manager), sometimes after hours in his office because it was the only time he had available to meet with you, and having him comment on a variety of issues raised with the local newspaper by ratepayers. There was seldom a “no comment” … there was no way they would ever ignore a request for comment, either from the media, or concerned ratepayer.  And if you took the time to get to know his secretary, you were in the pound seats because she knew everything and everyone!

When the new financial year budgets were announced, I remember how the Town Treasurer would patiently sit me down and go through the budget, explaining in great simple detail what it all meant to ratepayers so that the stories we wrote were written with understanding and did not further confuse readers or mislead them.

There was no mention of municipal managers not being able to comment to the media on specific areas that applied to their departments.  Man, I miss those days.

I remember how councillors were elected, not on party political lines, but because ratepayers believed they were the right people to represent them and their wards.  Council decisions were not made in line with a political party policy, but because the decisions were good ones and best served the people.

And speaking of council meetings, they were dignified. There was no heckling. Hell there were some heated debates, and things could get a little hairy, but there was always respect and everyone got a chance to have their say, and everyone was entitled to a chance to reply.

And council meetings weren’t extravagant, free for all catered events.  Sometimes it was tea and sandwiches, sometimes Bakers assorted biscuits and tea and for those evening meetings, finger cocktails and a few drinks. It was the perfect time to catch up with councillors,  chairmen of ratepayer bodies who religiously attended council meetings,  and a chance to meet the wives and significant others of councillors and officials.  Good times.

Ratepayer Associations were a force to be reckoned with back then.  They were well supported, non-political and it was out of their memberships that people rose to become councillors and mayors.

A  lot has changed since the powers that be sought fit to scrap town council structures and create the monster metro council.  It is a clumsy, hampered and incredibly slow-moving politicized structure, completely out of touch with its citizens and oblivious to the concerns raised at grassroot levels.  Politics has been the death of democracy. Now, when I vote it is not for the person I believe the best candidate to serve my interests, it’s  instead for the best of the worst political ideology I can reasonably live with. I don’t know about any of you, but I feel as though I have been disenfranchised.

We have come a long way since 1994, much good has been achieved, but there are times where I long for those good old days.