Tomb

Outside an Inglewood coffee shop, a rotund, grey-haired man, easily mistaken as an unemployed mall Santa Claus, leans against a patio railing, puffing away on a cigarette.

He’s not here for idle chit-chat, to lament Calgary’s winterish summer or predict the Flames’ upcoming season. Lawrence Oshanek, social activist, wants to talk about his bid to be Calgary’s 36th mayor.

“I’m not running for the city; I’m running against the city,” he says. “I’m running to protect the people of Calgary from the city of Calgary.”

It’s an atypical declaration coming from the mouth of a candidate heading into an election — though it’s certainly not the most peculiar. In a race largely dominated by wishy-washy slogans and vague promises, such honesty is at least refreshing.

“None of these idiots running seem to get the idea that they’re there to protect the public from the administration and the excesses of the administration,” says Oshanek.

A former businessman who lost everything and ended up homeless for eight years, Oshanek has spent the past few years fighting various levels of government in court over what he sees as intrusive and excessive rules, regulations and a creeping police state.

His most recent battle was against the city’s lifejacket bylaw. He lost. “I rebel from stuff like that,” he says. “I’m not interested in controlling everybody’s behaviour.”

NEW BLOOD NEEDED; NO ROOM FOR FRIENDSHIP

It’s this brazen, outsider attitude that separates Oshanek and a half-dozen other mayoralty long shots from the pack (now 17 and counting) vying for the mayor’s chair.

Their odds of winning? Slim. Donors and volunteers? Few. Campaign warchests? Try pocket change. Acutely aware of all of this, they’re more willing to voice an idea or opinion that didn’t come out of a can or off a script.

Individually, they speak idealistically of slashing the mayor’s salary, trimming the police force, axing public transit fares and peeling back the veil draped over city hall. Failing that, ruffling a few feathers will do for now.

“I’m loving it,” says local food advocate Paul Hughes, inadvertently evoking McDonald’s popular jingle. “I’ve spent less than $200 and I’m in the conversation, got good exposure and I believe I’m staying focused on ideas and issues.”

“I didn’t get involved in this so much as to get elected… this is a public art performance, me running for mayor.”

The former chair of the Calgary Food Policy Council was the first candidate out of the gate, declaring two weeks after Mayor Dave Bronconnier’s pending retirement announcement.

Hughes harbours no illusions about his odds of winning, “but you got to keep your mouth shut if you’re not even willing to step up in some capacity as a candidate or a voter.”

A self-described conceptualist, cynic and loudmouth, Hughes says Calgary needs to reinvent itself, which means cutting a few players and bringing in “new blood.”

“In the politics of change there is no room for friendship in my mind,” he says. “We’re not here to make friends, we’re here to create and build an efficiently run city and that takes some really tough decisions.”

Fellow outside candidate Bonnie Devine echoes Hughes’s talk of reinvention and revolutionary change. “If you want to change you need to present the changes you’re looking for,” says Devine, who has run twice provincially as a Communist Party candidate — a tough sell in arguably the most capitalist-friendly city in Canada.

“I feel that when I represent communism I represent equality, what it’s supposed to be representing and what would definitely make this society better,” she says, tempering her comrade leanings with a dose of centrism. “If it’s unachievable then I’m not going to lobby for it further if it’s going to bankrupt the city or something that’s going to ultimately hurt the citizens of Calgary.”

Encouraged by co-workers to run municipally, the union rep and mother of four is running on a platform to increase childcare spaces, reduce property taxes and eventually axe transit fares — or at least boost transit funding.

“Transit is a huge issue,” she says. “But there’s an amendment in the financial structure to reduce hours and routes. If you’re going to promote people to take a more environmental attitude… don’t reduce funds that are required to run it.”

BREAKING FROM THE PACK… AND REALITY

It will be difficult for fringe candidates to distinguish themselves and gain a foothold in the public’s mind as the election progresses, says Jeremy Zhao, who ran in the 2007 election, landing a distant yet respectable fourth-place finish.

“As an outside candidate you know your impact on the actual election results are going to be almost nil,” he says. “They’re really going to have to craft a platform that people are interested in reading.”

Distinguishing himself from the crowd won’t be a problem for contractor Oscar Fech. He began sitting on the sidelines of council and committee meetings in the 1980s, leaping at any opportunity to speak on any and every issue passing through city hall. Fech is to council meetings as Jack Nicholson is to L.A. Lakers’ games.

He’s also been kicked out several times, including a one-year ban that recently expired. “They kick me out because I know too much,” he says.

Fech, who ran in 2001 and 2004, announced his 2010 bid in typical Oscar Fech fashion — by interrupting a recent mayoral forum “I wasn’t even invited to,” he says.

Despite the bans, the forum snubs and past election losses, Fech has no plan to stop prodding council for answers on issues he believes they want buried.

“There’s so much going on and they’re so afraid to tell the truth,” he says, before launching into an X-Files-like script detailing a plot of global domination engineered by a powerful cabal of wealthy elites, the World Bank, the Vatican and, of course, the media.

“The media wants to destroy me,” he says. “They’re part of the whole problem. The newsroom doesn’t want to say anything because the families that control the world run city hall. They run the world.”

Meanwhile…

Then there’s Greg Berdette. He supports “long-term planning,” and Calgary’s arts and festival communities. He doesn’t like photo radar and wants it banned.

He responds to an interview request by emailing that he wants to vet the questions first and “might be able to get you a reply by end of day today” and “might then be able to follow up by phone tomorrow morning.”

In a further email, Berdette asks the “Dear Respective Media” to check out his website and read “Greg’s View.”

Done and done.

NOWHERE TO GO BUT UP

Working with campaign piggybanks and near-zero name or face recognition, and going up against better-known and funded players, these candidates are already behind the ball. There’s also the risk of being completely ignored as the mayoral race story develops: A Barb Higgins-Ric McIver showdown.

“It’s difficult to make yourself heard,” concedes mayoral hopeful Derek McKenzie, a University of Calgary political science graduate and current executive assistant at Enmax.

What kick-started his campaign? An April Fool’s Day joke, which was followed by three months of prodding by colleagues, friends and family. “I truly believe that my chances of winning are just as great as everyone else’s — even the two frontrunners,” says McKenzie.

He points to his political experience, which includes writing electricity distribution policy for the provincial Conservatives. He’s drafting another on water licensing — a “huge issue” provincially and one Calgary will face soon, he says.

“While I don’t have a degree in finance or economics, I’m certainly well aware and have the hands-on training needed to understand what’s going on at a relatively large company,” says McKenzie.

Armed with little to no political experience and a long uphill battle, why do these candidates not aim lower and run for an aldermanic seat?

“Why not go for the big dog’s chair,” says McKenzie. “You’ve got to have a goal and strive for it.”

Email: thowell@ffwd.greatwest.ca