Death Wishes In Toronto

Curled up in the library, getting the memory of wretched Somalia out of my system as I sipped from a Margaux given by the Compt de Rienville (a little coming home present, much appreciated) I read the following in the local paper.

Apparently in the last 15 days, 14 pedestrians had been killed on Toronto's streets. An aside: the missing day must have been a Sunday, when The Lord rested. (He's been resting ever since). In Montreal, to contrast this a bit, 19 pedestrian fatalities in the past entire year. Of course, Montreal pedestrians are well used to drivers teetering along the edge of insanity, and take the necessary precautions. But what on earth was going on in Toronto? Had someone taken literally the saying, "so many pedestrians, so little time"?

I got on the phone to an old friend in the Toronto Police Department, Superintendent Max Smith. Max and his operational team were charged with coping with the odd or the unusual, and I recall something about a pizza delivery person, name of Percival, who had a very strange ability. Forgotten just what it was, but it had taken Max some time to sort it all out. In any event, neither here nor there. What was here was an unusual death count on Toronto's streets.

When I finally got through to Max, I discovered he was at his wits end in figuring it out. He then asked me to brood on the situation for a while, and get back to him with my thoughts. I had done this before, when the penguins in the zoo began to attack any keeper who came near, and only ceased when I had determined that an employee who had had his pension reduced had been spiking the penguin's food with Viagra. I doubted that the present case would prove that simple to resolve.

After examining each pedestrian death, one common denominator stood out -- total lack of attention to where one was or what one was doing. This rubric applied both to drivers and pedestrians, and recalls Schiller: "With stupidity, the gods themselves struggle in vain." Modern accoutrement's such as i-pods and cell phones simply exacerbate the situation. There really was only one solution.

I informed Max that while cuff and kiss is a good combination to encourage proper behaviour, this was definitely a "cuff" scenario. I suggested that every so often, on a random basis, send the uniforms into the streets, and raise the fine for jaywalking to $100 a pop, while at the same time really bear down on cars running reds. Moreover, forget the nice warnings that had hitherto been in place. Word of this approach would spread like wildfire, and things should improve. Save for teen-agers, who think they're immortal.

Max thanked me, stating that he had been having thoughts along similar lines.

Nevertheless, all this was somewhat depressing, but I was cheered up by watching Robin Williams on television (and another glass of the Margaux). Williams was at his bi-polar best, and I leave you with one of his more unusual observations:

"I see that American gays and lesbians, losing court battle after court battle, are getting fed up and moving to Canada in droves. Bloody hell. Canadians are already the nicest people on the planet. Do they have to be the best dressed too?"