Bumbling Bureaucracy Aided Iceless Waifs, But Wait, It Was All Fiction
Published on Friday, May. 21, 2010 8:20PM EDT Last updated on Friday, May. 21, 2010 9:14PM EDT
How could I have missed the announcement?
Oh yes, I’m writing a book. That’s why. My life at the moment consists of rocking in the fetal position, typing frantically, sobbing, walking the dog and occasionally bathing.
None of it is pleasant, even the walks I normally adore with the dog I utterly worship.
Obie, the white bull terrier, has developed an intense dislike of the new harness I got for him a couple of weeks ago, and now lies down every two or three feet, back legs stretched out like a frog behind him, and refuses to budge.
Since he is nearly 70 pounds, with a will of steel, I can drag him only so far. I have been reduced to bribery to get him to his feet with a constant infusion of treats, so soon he will be pushing 90 pounds, at which point we will both be fat, white and waist-less and no one will be able to tell us apart.
(For the record, he has beadier eyes and is marginally more friendly.)
The point is, for these reasons, I missed the big announcement.
It came out on May 7, though people were excitedly twittering the news the night before (I have checked), direct from the Liberty Grand where the gala was held, and no doubt dozens of Facebook pages were duly updated with the grand news (I could not bear to check).
There it was: “Argyle Communications wins People’s Choice Award at IABC/Toronto’s 25th annual OVATION gala.”
I apologize for all the capitals; this is how public-relations people actually speak and write, alas. I don’t have much truck for the breed, I confess, and every fall, when all the eager PR students newly enrolled at community colleges e-mail me with quizzes (“Can you describe why Public Relations is Important?” and “How do Public Relations practitioners help you in your daily Work?”) I’m afraid I reply by saying, “It isn’t” and “They don’t.”
Anyway, Argyle Communications is a PR firm; the IABC is the International Association of Business Communicators.
I have a friend who was in PR for years, and was an IABC member. I went with her to a function or two, in the dreary networking years, when organizations like this ruined the cocktail hour by forcing people to give out business cards and frantically glad-hand perfect strangers instead of relaxing over beer and some peanuts.
The way I remember it, women were particularly vulnerable to that networking horse manure: We would all show up at these stupid events in our Power Suits, secretly hoping to meet cute boys, but would end up instead talking to other women in their Power Suits.
These folks make me very crabby. I admit that. I wanted to slap them then and I mostly want to slap them now.
As it turns out, Argyle won the People Choice’s Award (what exact people, I’d like to know) for its “aggressive campaign in partnership with the Toronto Leaside Girls Hockey Association to push Toronto City Council to enforce its existing policy and give girls their fair share of ice time,” the IABC press release said.
“Using media relations, social media, grassroots communications and meetings with public officials, the campaign drove Toronto City Council to enforce its policy and oversee ice allocation in Toronto, ensuring priority access for both boys and girls.”
A few days later, an additional release on Argyle’s own website described the “Fairness for Girls Hockey in Toronto” as “a pro-bono advocacy campaign,” which means, I assume, the agency did the work for free, though God knows, Leaside being the Land of the Affluent and Entitled, the parents could have afforded to cough up a few shekels.
That, of course, is the sly thing about social media. Just because it’s cheap (or free) doesn’t mean it’s not as manipulative as traditional advertising.
In any case, the award was Richly Deserved: Certainly, in the area of media relations, the Leaside Girls scored big, with only a few crabby types like me in the press pointing out that there actually aren’t great numbers of poor little girl hockey players in Toronto wandering about from rink to rink, looking in vain for ice time.
Rather, the whole kerfuffle was driven by the fact that what the Leaside Girls really want are the best times, at the best arenas most conveniently located to the Land of the Affluent and Entitled.
Given what is already on the public record in this story – that two of Mayor David Miller’s Most Expensive advisers, John Piper and Nick Lewis, have strong connections to the Leaside Girls, with Mr. Piper a former president of the Leaside Skating Club and Mr. Lewis a coach with the Girls – it is heartening indeed to discover that every last bit of it was a fiction.
There were no iceless waifs. There was and is no ice time crisis, only a bumbling, politically driven bureaucracy which couldn’t divide ice cubes at an IABC networker.
The only genuine note comes in this: The Monday Nighters, a group of middle-aged men who for 32 years have been playing pickup hockey at Forest Hill Arena, are getting the boot, thanks to Argyle’s aggressive, award-winning campaign.
The boys’ last game will be from 9-10 p.m. on May 24. They’re raising money for charity. I am planning to come out of the fetal position that evening long enough to raise a glass to them.
Oh yes, I’m writing a book. That’s why. My life at the moment consists of rocking in the fetal position, typing frantically, sobbing, walking the dog and occasionally bathing.
None of it is pleasant, even the walks I normally adore with the dog I utterly worship.
Obie, the white bull terrier, has developed an intense dislike of the new harness I got for him a couple of weeks ago, and now lies down every two or three feet, back legs stretched out like a frog behind him, and refuses to budge.
Since he is nearly 70 pounds, with a will of steel, I can drag him only so far. I have been reduced to bribery to get him to his feet with a constant infusion of treats, so soon he will be pushing 90 pounds, at which point we will both be fat, white and waist-less and no one will be able to tell us apart.
(For the record, he has beadier eyes and is marginally more friendly.)
The point is, for these reasons, I missed the big announcement.
It came out on May 7, though people were excitedly twittering the news the night before (I have checked), direct from the Liberty Grand where the gala was held, and no doubt dozens of Facebook pages were duly updated with the grand news (I could not bear to check).
There it was: “Argyle Communications wins People’s Choice Award at IABC/Toronto’s 25th annual OVATION gala.”
I apologize for all the capitals; this is how public-relations people actually speak and write, alas. I don’t have much truck for the breed, I confess, and every fall, when all the eager PR students newly enrolled at community colleges e-mail me with quizzes (“Can you describe why Public Relations is Important?” and “How do Public Relations practitioners help you in your daily Work?”) I’m afraid I reply by saying, “It isn’t” and “They don’t.”
Anyway, Argyle Communications is a PR firm; the IABC is the International Association of Business Communicators.
I have a friend who was in PR for years, and was an IABC member. I went with her to a function or two, in the dreary networking years, when organizations like this ruined the cocktail hour by forcing people to give out business cards and frantically glad-hand perfect strangers instead of relaxing over beer and some peanuts.
The way I remember it, women were particularly vulnerable to that networking horse manure: We would all show up at these stupid events in our Power Suits, secretly hoping to meet cute boys, but would end up instead talking to other women in their Power Suits.
These folks make me very crabby. I admit that. I wanted to slap them then and I mostly want to slap them now.
As it turns out, Argyle won the People Choice’s Award (what exact people, I’d like to know) for its “aggressive campaign in partnership with the Toronto Leaside Girls Hockey Association to push Toronto City Council to enforce its existing policy and give girls their fair share of ice time,” the IABC press release said.
“Using media relations, social media, grassroots communications and meetings with public officials, the campaign drove Toronto City Council to enforce its policy and oversee ice allocation in Toronto, ensuring priority access for both boys and girls.”
A few days later, an additional release on Argyle’s own website described the “Fairness for Girls Hockey in Toronto” as “a pro-bono advocacy campaign,” which means, I assume, the agency did the work for free, though God knows, Leaside being the Land of the Affluent and Entitled, the parents could have afforded to cough up a few shekels.
That, of course, is the sly thing about social media. Just because it’s cheap (or free) doesn’t mean it’s not as manipulative as traditional advertising.
In any case, the award was Richly Deserved: Certainly, in the area of media relations, the Leaside Girls scored big, with only a few crabby types like me in the press pointing out that there actually aren’t great numbers of poor little girl hockey players in Toronto wandering about from rink to rink, looking in vain for ice time.
Rather, the whole kerfuffle was driven by the fact that what the Leaside Girls really want are the best times, at the best arenas most conveniently located to the Land of the Affluent and Entitled.
Given what is already on the public record in this story – that two of Mayor David Miller’s Most Expensive advisers, John Piper and Nick Lewis, have strong connections to the Leaside Girls, with Mr. Piper a former president of the Leaside Skating Club and Mr. Lewis a coach with the Girls – it is heartening indeed to discover that every last bit of it was a fiction.
There were no iceless waifs. There was and is no ice time crisis, only a bumbling, politically driven bureaucracy which couldn’t divide ice cubes at an IABC networker.
The only genuine note comes in this: The Monday Nighters, a group of middle-aged men who for 32 years have been playing pickup hockey at Forest Hill Arena, are getting the boot, thanks to Argyle’s aggressive, award-winning campaign.
The boys’ last game will be from 9-10 p.m. on May 24. They’re raising money for charity. I am planning to come out of the fetal position that evening long enough to raise a glass to them.
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