So, what exactly is it we do well again? Oh yeah, visitor satisfaction. We keep our company satisfied. That in itself is a stellar accomplishment in this summer of discontent.
I know, personally, satisfaction has been elusive since the ski hill closed down. I was really satisfied, in a sadomasochistic way, when I finally dug a well-embedded cedar sliver out of my palm. It took a penknife, patience, an elevated pain tolerance threshold I wasn't aware I possessed and several stiff recovery drinks but left me with the kind of warm glow only self-surgery can ignite.
Other than that, I was satisfied - okay, surprised - when a 24-foot seeing-eye putt careened into the final hole of a soggy round, an accomplishment that in most summers would only make me think about administering electroshock therapy to snap me out of whatever funk made me want to play golf to begin with.
So what the heck, if our visitors are satisfied, that isn't so bad, is it?
But instead of feeling like we're, well, accomplishing our entire reason for being, we are, instead, left with the kind of guilty feelings of shame more suited to having been caught in the bathroom doing the kinds of things the nuns warned us would inevitably lead to an eternity in perdition.
Why? We're water wasters.
The average person in Whistler uses - wastes - 558 litres of potable water each and every day... including the relentlessly rainy ones. There are, in case you were wondering, 27,986 average people in Whistler per day, at least that's how the math works out if we can believe the figure of 5.7 billion litres of water used per year.
Do you find that number shocking? Is it any less shocking to know that's one whole litre per person per day less than waterlogged Whistlerites consumed in 2003? Compared to those halcyon days, we're practically dyin' of thirst. What, it's only one litre? True. But 2010's consumption was only three litres per day higher than 2009 and only four per day more than 2008. Considering the horror with which this trend away from The Vision was received at council when the Centre for Sustainability delivered the 2010 Whistler 2020 Monitoring Report, one is left with the impression that, like spermatozoa, every litre is sacred.
Who's using all that water? We don't know. But then, let us remember it wasn't too long ago we finally discovered there were swimming pools at Whistler hotels. Okay, we knew they were there; we just forgot to bill them for the water to fill those pools.
Perhaps the more profitable question to ask is, do we really care how much water we're using? I know; asking that question is incredibly politically incorrect. Hell, if we can't worry about the water we use what can we worry about? Our economic unsustainability? Our questionably appropriate governmental enterprises? Our widening social schism?
Asking whether we should be worried about how much water we're using is like farting loudly in a quiet church. I should be ashamed of myself.
Instead of questioning the orthodoxy, I should be hewing to its catechism. I should replace my shower heads and faucets with low-flow fixtures. Except I already have. I should only run my dishwasher when full. Except I don't use a dishwasher. I should replace my old toilets with ultra-low-flow ones. Well, I have; and I feel guilty whenever I push the wrong button or have to push the right button twice because once does not adequately enable the caca to hit the fan.
I've landscaped with drought resistant plants and even better, with plants I can eat, thus reducing by the most miniscule of margins the greenhouse gasses created by modern agriculture and distribution. I've ripped out the ridiculously tiny amount of grass the muni forced the developer to include so I could create parking for guests who are gauche enough to not take the bus out to Rainbow, a step that might force them to leave their homes a day early but would be oh, so green. I've completely ignored the sprinkler restriction bylaws because it's all I can do to keep everything from rotting in the sodden earth it's planted in.
Now, if everyone else in town would do that, the effect would be... disappointing. Or, as they say around muni hall whenever someone floats a revenue-generating idea, insignificant and not worth pursuing.
Personally, I don't think it's important how much water we use. At least not from a save the planet perspective. We are awash with water. We have water flowing into and out of town 24/7/365. We are blessed with being at the top of the watershed with nothing but a bit of wildlife fouling the streams, creeks and rivers cascading down upon us. If we didn't practice prudent water management, we'd all drown long before we got thirsty.
The only concern muni hall should have with water is ensuring we have the treatment and storage capacity to meet our gluttonous ways... and charging enough to provide it. More than that is just a dog and pony show - greenwashing.
Chances are pretty good we'll all go bankrupt and Whistler will become a ghost town long before the supply of water ever becomes a real issue. When global warming drowns Vancouver, the likely effect on Whistler will be more rain. No number of ultra-low-flow toilets is going to make a difference. Neither will xeriscaping the golf courses, abandoning the multitude of hanging baskets decorating the village, blacktopping the manicured grass medians, turning the parks into deserts or outlawing hot tubs.
This is a non-issue and we're chasing a chimera. Harry Kim's environmental services staff shouldn't waste an hour or dollar trying to figure out where all the water's going unless they're willing to come up with better solutions than sprinkler restrictions. If the RMOW wants to metre and charge for actual water usage that's clearly within their mandate. Whenever the issue's been raised in the past, the mantra out of the hall has been people would wind up paying more for water and it wouldn't be politically palatable.
I'll let you in on a secret. I'm willing to bet people would be a whole lot more willing to pay for the water they use than the tax dollars the RMOW wastes on trying to figure out why we use so much water.
But you know, spinning our wheels on nonsense like this serves a useful purpose. It diverts attention away from how unsustainably things are being managed in this town. And, it makes us feel guilty... if we let it.
