Tonight I felt like a real, honest-to-goodness, journalist.
I left the office at 5:30, then had an hour and a half to kill before council. So I found this classy pub...
(Oh ya... by the way... I have, like an internship and junk. I'm, like, totally almost done school. I'm a friggin' grown-up)
And I had this awesome dinner, read the agenda, grabbed a coffee and walked down to the town hall.
(It's a weekly newspaper, community owned, in a small town. I commute.)
I love township council. I thought I loved Toronto City Council. But it's seriously, the highlight of my week. There are only 5 councillors, the regional councillor and the mayor (as well as a treasurer, CAO, clerk and deputy clerk.)
That's 11, for those keeping count. Toronto has 44 councillors alone. Even TDSB has bigger meetings than the Township.
I talk to the mayor once a week. Press has its own desk in the council chambers. Press is consulted for lunch breaks. Free coffee. Councillor2 and I are on a friendly, first-name basis. Councillor4 is following me on Twitter.
Council meets on Mondays, and I spend Sunday nights giddy with anticipation.
I've fallen hard for municipal politics. And to think, this time last year, I was dreading covering the municipal election.
But there's always something quick and dirty at a council meeting (story, that is.) I love the 'average Joes' who come out to watch. And you get to know some of the personalities through the cast of characters that parade in, to speak to council.
Sometimes, I wished I lived there.
Ya, I'm pretty much done with Toronto. Maybe another year in the city, and then it's off to greener pastures for me. Will I be gone forever? Fuck no, I'm a city girl after all. But 5 years? 10?
(I asked a question during council. And it wasn't a stupid question. But I got nervous.... LAME.)
Which brings me to another point. I'm SHY in Township. ME, who called out deputy chair, John Parker in an interview. Who had the first interview with Jane Pitfield after her defeat to, well, Mr. Parker.
I think... in Toronto I feel I can be forgotten. If I fuck up, I'm just yet another faceless media. But in a town with only a handful of reporters and a handful of sources, you can't have annonymity. And people know who I am. People remember me. And let's face it, I know fuck-all about small towns. I feel I don't even know the lingo anymore.
One thing's for certain: I love municipal politics, whether in a small town or the big city. I'm curious to cover it provincially and federally. Hmm... maybe I can convince Doc (my boss) that I should cover the next provincial shindig. Our MPP is presenting a private members bill about commercial fill, which is a HUGE "hot-button issue" in town.
(Ya see what I did there, right? I said "our" MPP.)
Oh, on a somewhat related note, I've decided I want to be a municipal politician when my hypothetical children are in high school. I was going to run for trustee, but now I'm wondering about small-town councillor. Oooh or finally realize my life-long dream of marrying a farmer.
Here's a treat:
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