Toronto is barking up the wrong tree
The official tree of Toronto, after a sadly almost entirely ignored public online vote, is the … oak.
This doesn’t surprise me, or you. Ask a Torontonian to name a tree and well, how about oak, something he associates with wine barrels. If you asked them to name a wood, they’d say Ikea, which means MDF (medium density fibreboard) with a laminate veneer, but Ikea doesn’t make trees (yet) so let’s have oak for the municipal win.
The poll also included maple, birch and pine. I suspect people don’t think of the maple as a tree but as a leaf. I wanted to vote for birch but didn’t want to offend anyone.
On the other hand, city trees are for urination, unofficial bike stands, centres of root stifling and compression, poster-stapling and tagging. A white birch, so very peelable, wouldn’t last a week.
That left the pine — there were two kinds listed compared to eight kinds of oak — which would have been the best choice. We are a winter city that needs evergreens to soften the angles of its drab, boxy architecture.
A pine works hard every single month, while deciduous trees send out stark veins and arteries into the grey sky for most of the year, a kind of “The Scream” in tree form.
Nevertheless, the oak won. So solid, so sensible. Toronto’s coat of arms reflects that: the industrious beaver; the eagle (the oak of the bird world); the honeycomb, representing energy and productivity; and then a peculiar choice, the bear, allegedly embodying strength, determination and protection of its offspring.
Bears eat people. It’s what they’re known for. Also there are no Toronto bears extant. If there were, they would be briskly removed, so who are we fooling here?
There are however raccoons, skunks, squirrels and chipmunks, the last of which are actually fetching and rather sweet, responding to my little bag of almonds in High Park with gratitude and remarkable efforts at cheek storage.
Humans having eating contests; chipmunks save it for later. Isn’t that the kind of Presbyterian workthink that should land a chipmunk on the coat of arms?
It does not surprise me to see our coat of arms devoid of Chippy the Chipmunk. As someone said, when Toronto names its official dish it will be the sandwich. Our official rock is cement, our official throw is the fleece microfibre and our official sofa is The One We Found on the Sidewalk, Can You Believe It?
Toronto’s slogan is Diversity Our Strength, which I quite like — but the problem is that no one says it out loud, whereas people often say and sing “I love New York.” I think of cities I love. Lisbon’s slogan, quite singable, is Mui Nobre e Sempre Leal, or Very Noble and Always Loyal.
Toronto’s real slogan is “Fix The Bins.” They won’t, you know.
If Toronto wants to reveal its essence to the world, why doesn’t it run a poll naming the city’s official decking material? Vote for pressure-treated lumber, Trex or cedar.
This is a short form for Toronto’s class system. There are three eligible responses: “Well it’s cheaper,” “You’re going to regret that” and “Aren’t we fancy.”
But in real life, it’s “Not that cheap in the pandemic,” “I already do,” and “Yes.”
Some people in Toronto want to be able to legally drink in the park, their territorial picnic blankets spread under a nice oak, because they are confined to balconies while others have backyards. They’re the same people who support tent encampments.
Indeed, an activist tweeted that it was classist and possibly ableist to ban boozing en plein air. Without alcohol, she said, people in encampments could end up going through delirium tremens.
Faced with arguments like this, Mayor John Tory and city council postponed the decision for another year. And this is why Toronto cannot and never will have nice things. It’s too much trouble.