Toledo Is #1 In Ohio

The numbers are in and Toledo is the #1 ... worst metropolitan area in creating and sustaining economic growth in Ohio, at least according to the Milken Institute / Greenstreet Real Estate Partners Best Performing Cities Index. 

Dropping four places in this list from last year's showing of 194, Toledo came in at 198 of the top 200 cities in the 2009 survey, surpassing other Ohio cities: Youngstown (193), Canton (190), Cleveland (186), Dayton (183), and Akron (167) in its failures; in a survey whose numbers were calculated based on job growth and wage and salary levels, as well as other criteria. No Ohio city was ranked in the top 100 in this survey (though Columbus came in at 108), and in fact only Detroit and Flint, MI ranked worse in the survey conducted nationally every year. (Something to aspire to perhaps?) 

Governor Strickland must be very proud to have so many of Ohio's cities near the bottom of the list on this survey. Perhaps the plan to delay the reduction of state income taxes will have an even greater impact on next year's effort and group Ohio cities closer together near the bottom. 

Locally one has to be thinking. Our current Mayor, Carlton S. Finkbeiner has been holding press conferences almost every day lately in the hopes of once and for all establishing his legacy of leadership in Toledo. With the release of these numbers, perhaps he has yet another reason to do so, and an accomplishment he can truly call his own ...

Fractured Fairy Tales - The Little Dutch Boy Of Toledo

Hello boys and girls, and welcome once again to "Fractured Fairy Tales". These slightly twisted fables of an imaginary land known as Toodledeedoo (pronounced Toodle-dee-doo) have amused and fascinated so many over time. OK, they have slightly amused some once in a while. Alright, they bring a smile to my face from time to time as I am writing them. At any rate, it's time for another one, so let's waste any more precious time and get right to it.


Once upon a time in the mythical land of Toodledeedoo there lived a little boy named Carty (OK, he was actually a man, but trust me when I tell you that he was really immature). Now it seems as though this man was walking through town one day when he noticed the city's dike. Now the dike (which for some strange reason was called Budget) was important to the town, as it provided the protection for Toodledeedoo, and made the town a livable place where people and businesses could flourish. (Hey no snickering here, I said it was a Fairy Tale.)


Now Carty worked for the city, and one of his jobs was to make sure that the dike (Budget) was OK. You could say in fact, that one of his jobs was to make sure that the Budget was doing its job (and I just did). Carty wasn't very good at this job however, and seemed to go out his way to perform this service poorly. 


The Budget tried to protect the city, and Carty would poke a hole in it to water some flowers, flowering shrubs, and things that say welcome. Someone would come along and patch that hole and Carty would poke another one in, this time to help the Erie Street Market grow (it didn't). The Budget would get patch for that hole, and Carty would poke another one in to keep COSI alive until somebody could figure out what to do with it. Another patch would be provided, but soon another hole would get poked, this time to help win a contest that no one had ever heard of or cared if we won. Patched once again, the Budget continued to try to hold back the waters, but Carty poked yet another hole in it, this time try and bring back a shopping mall that had died. (It stayed dead.)

It seemed that no matter how many times someone came along to patch the Budget for Toodledeedoo, it's keeper Carty would poke yet another hole in it. In all fairness to Carty, he sometimes tried to fix the holes in the Budget himself, usually by stuffing them with things like furloughs that he wasn't supposed to use; but being Carty his fixes only created bigger holes that required even more fixing. Sometimes some of the other things that he did (like getting himself and the city sued for doing other parts of his job) made holes in the Budget all by themselves, and once again repair was required. 


Finally, it seemed that Carty's efforts had all but destroyed the Budget and only massive sacrifices on the part of the citizens would allow the Budget, and Toodledeedoo to survive. Looking to their future, it was obvious to even the most dense of its citizens that even greater sacrifice would be required to keep this Budget functioning ... or they were going to have to find a different protector of the Budget. 


Now this might seem unlikely, as on previous occasions these same citizens had given Carty back his job every time that he asked, and all previous efforts to remove him from this job had proven unsuccessful in spite of his poor job performance. But so egregious were his poor performance and so great was the damage done however, that this time our ne'er do well keeper of the Budget might indeed have to look for another job.


Like many of the Fairy Tales about Toodledeedoo, this story doesn't have an end yet. There appears however, to be enough anger out there in the citizens of this fair city that change may finally be in the wind. A group of citizens called "Take Back Toledo" has begun to get organized. It appears that this time the torches are being lit and pitchforks have been sharpened. I haven't seen any tar and feathers yet, but I'm sure that they can't be far behind. I suspect that the end, at least for Carty, and a new beginning for Toodledeedoo is closer than ever before.

Twas the Night Before Christmas

My twisted perspective and warped sense of humor have once again asserted themselves. Unlike previous possessions however, in this particular case I have taken on a rather famous poem (of the above listed title) first printed anonymously, but later credited to Clement Moore. Being dead, he cannot object to such abuse, but may be found spinning in his grave upon the posting of this version. I hope that you enjoy its timely release. 

Twas The Night Before Christmas ... In Toledo  

Twas the night before Christmas, and through Glass City

Not a Creature was stirring, and more was the pity

Red-light cameras were hung, by the stoplights with care

In hopes that new revenues, soon would be there

The people were hiding, like always it seemed

And Council of rubber stamps once again dreamed

But sounds of pure rage from the big office did pour

While workers most wisely just ran for the door

Hizzoner was off on a tantrum again

His target now suburban businessmen

For Take Back Toledo was ready to start

And that can't be good for our old Mayor Cart

His eyeballs were flashing, his fingers were twitching

With radio stations the subject of bitching

He rambled of treatments, both violent and dire

His diatribe dripping brimstone and fire

The lights in the Market, now dimly they glow

But Carty's red face was much brighter you know

He suddenly mellowed in tenor and tone

When finally seeing he wasn't alone

It was me that was trapped with this loony old goat

With hopes that his meds would keep hands from my throat

He glared at me now as if seeing me dead

His coffee cup poised now to throw at my head

I froze in position, a smile stiffly glowing

In hopes that my fear of him wouldn't be showing

I searched for an option, I longed for an exit

I sweated and prayed that I wasn't his target

But just when I thought that I had seen my end He crumpled and folded and started to bend

And right at that moment he just broke down cryin

Admitting his enemies were Fred and Brian

He sobbed and he stammered, he pulled at his hair He blubbered not caring that any was there He stormed and he stamped as he read off offenses

He steamed as he listed the dire recompenses

I told him his problem just might be bad judgment On Flowers and bike paths, he had been so hell bent
I said there was more to his job than new showers Or than thinking of taxes and fees at all hours
I told him to stand up and admit to the blame Own up to it all and his head hang in shame I pointed out he had not done his job well
He drew himself up and threw out "Go to Hell"
He ran from his office and left me to stare He bypassed the lift and went straight for the stair
He raced down the floors to the lobby below No more would he listen, for I think he did know
He stopped at the exit, and with nostrils flaring, attempted to manage a more regal bearing
He sniffed and he growled as he walked away mumbling He unlocked his car with the keys he was fumbling

He climbed in that car where his dog had been penned

And pulled from a handicap spot once again

And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight

“Daggonit that bastard, he just might be right.” 

Merry Christmas everyone!