Week 114.
Valentine’s Day is mere days away. People who have known Elder Advice for some time invariably ask: “Why are you still married?” Although the person they ask is Lisa. And the reason they ask may have something to do with the fact that Valentine’s Day always makes Elder Advice think of the death watch beetle.
The death watch beetle. The name alone conjures visions of love both requited and unrequited. Known for tunnelling and destroying oak and elm timber, the distinctive knocking sound of the beetle was thought to be a harbinger of death. As it turns out, the sound is made by an adult female’s head banging repeatedly on the wood after a male has literally jumped on her back and she is understandably overcome with passion. Turns out death watch females prefer large, heavy males – exactly as every morbidly obese man has envisioned all women prefer - because 13 % body weight of the larger males is sperm. A rough approximation would be 11 to 15 liters in a human male.
But now I am just wallowing in romance.
Anyway, St. Valentine was a Roman priest named Valentinus who was canonized after the Emperor Claudius II had him beheaded for curing blindness. In 11th-century Brittany, one bishop used what is purported to have been St Valentine’s severed head to prevent epidemics and cure all manner of illness, including demonic possession. Everything but love sickness, it appears. The story has no apparent connection with candy, cards or Cupid unless you want to belabour the love is blind metaphor. Or believe infatuation and losing your head are synonymous.
Toronto lost its head this weekend. John Tory, the City’s mayor resigned suddenly yesterday citing an infatuation and an extra-marital, consensual tryst with a former city staffer.
The first reaction has been one of concern. It is the 21st century after all, and moral lapses, in isolation, are no longer grounds for resignation, much less defenestration. Looking back on only Toronto’s municipal history, the last mayor before Tory, Rob Ford, was a bumbling crackhead and international embarrassment. And he did not resign. Neither did Mel Lastman, the previous mayor, a fast-talking buffoon elected even though he promoted himself for decades, literally, as “Bad Boy”. Which, Elder Advice concedes, was a demonstration of truth in advertising. Given he was best known for having what we used to call “mistresses” and a brood of what we used to call “illegitimate”children. Well - that and building a subway line that no one uses and calling in the Army to shovel Toronto’s snowy driveways.
Is there something more in this case that we have not yet been told and which lowers the current mayor’s conduct to misconduct? If there is, no one has yet mentioned it.
The second reaction has been one of profound disappointment. Those who actually know John Tory, know him to be a committed public servant. A man who took on the job of mayor not because he needed the salary or benefits, or because he needed to pad his already considerable resume. A man who took on the job because he wanted to apply his considerable skills and experience as a communicator and a politician with an understanding of how government ought to function, and serve the public. The few concerns expressed since he took office, about the actions and inaction of his administration, have as much to do with the financial limitations of Canadian municipal governments and the mischief-making of others on City Council as they do with errors he has made.
How could he imperil his family, his work, his legacy and his reputation in this way? Elder Advice is plussed. Or maybe nonplussed. He is always surprised and confused by that word. For persons in positions of authority and especially public trust, even if you do not attach a moral dimension to infidelity, even if you look at the decision through a wholly self-interested lense, how can you conclude that a dalliance is in your interest? Eventual public disclosure is certain. Because is not 1960 anymore and you are not JFK. The trail of broken families, public scorn and ruined careers left by these decisions is endless.
Anyway, Elder Advice looks, as always, to our forebears for solutions. And the Romans are an often reliable source. When they took time out from decapitating future saints, they developed remarkable means to reduce the risk posed by these circumstances. When successful generals returned from military campaigns, during the parade and public adulation that followed, their chariots had one other occupant, a slave whose sole task was to whisper continually in the general’s ear: “Sic transit gloria mundi” - So passes the glory of the world. And “Memento Mori” - Remember you are mortal. Because fame and all that comes with it is fleeting, and those with power and authority apparently need a constant reminder.