Don’t turn the city into an army of curtain twitchers
Resist mayor’s errant call to snitch on your neighbour
When it comes to those deadly sins, I’m batting six from seven and that final one is on deck.
Therefore, if seeking some saintly judge of morality, please look elsewhere. Because, as Bob Dylan once sang, it ain’t me, babe.
Still, whatever discretions can be laid at my door, I’ve never been, or ever will be, a curtain twitcher.
This will undoubtedly disappoint our mayor, who’s currently giving out his own version of boy scout badges for nosy citizens measuring up to his vision of a true Calgarian in these drab, dreary days of shutdowns and social distancing.
The term “curtain twitcher” might appear vague to Calgarians. But one thing about my former countrymen; they have a cutting way with the English language — familiarity has its compensations.
Anyway, a concise translation would point to someone who stands, half-hidden in shadow, peering out the window to spot some perceived naughtiness the neighbours are up to, no matter when such goings-on transpire.
Then, spotting a suitable transgression, they rush excitedly to inform the authorities.
In the more brutal verbiage of North America, that person’s called a snitch.
Hey, come on down, Mayor Naheed Nenshi. Here’s a fellow who loves snitches. He wants our entire city chock full of ’em in these COVID-19 days.
Last week, His Worship was giddy when asked what Calgarians should do if spotting someone not keeping that required six feet away from another living, breathing human, or massing in crowds of more than two — these being the strictures imposed upon us these days.
The curtain twitchers of the world will have rejoiced at his response.
“I’ve received lots of notes, from friends and Facebook people and so on, that are saying, ‘Hey, my neighbour’s having a party. Is it wrong for me to rat them out, to be that blunt?’
“That’s what 311 and that’s what the police non-emergency line are for. You can explain what’s going on. The people on the other end can tell you, ‘You know what? That’s actually something that’s allowed, or that’s actually a problem,’ and we can deal with it.
“I want to encourage people to use those reporting mechanisms, either 311 or the police non-emergency line, if they’re concerned about these things,” said our mayor.
Frankly, I’ve lived in Calgary for more than 30 years, and that’s among the most depressing statements ever heard from a civic figure.
It’s worrying to imagine what Nenshi would tell the kids taking part in that strange ‘Ask
The Mayor’ TV segment if a youngster wanted advice because his parents had invited the neighbours over for supper. Would they be advised to follow Mr. Parsons’ kids in Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-four, and shop dad to Calgary’s version of the Thought Police?
Actually, Calgary’s cops aren’t so keen. Perhaps they figured out, following their recent breathalyzers-for-everyone blitz, that alienating those paying their wages in a city rapidly going broke isn’t too clever.
“CPS is not encouraging people to ‘tattle’ on neighbours, but if anyone feels the need to report violations, 311 is the proper channel to go through,” they tweeted, smartly passing the snitching baton back to city hall.
Look, Calgarians are overwhelmingly following the distancing and gathering rules without need of being urged to spy on each other so neighbours get fined $1,200 a pop for standing a little too close or having four folks at a barbecue. Imagine the future bonhomie that will inspire, if we ever again have block parties.
This city’s already more divided than ever before. Public servants versus those in the private sector, young against old, new Canadians and fourth-generation folk, former Olympic backers and opponents — the list is long and growing. Hey, this isn’t Donald Trump’s fault. Nor even Justin Trudeau’s. This is homegrown.
And now the mayor wants us to spy on each other. Well, then, let’s ditch that dated handing out of white hats and instead award those deemed worthy a set of binoculars and a new set of curtains.