The 360 degree view

Well, the excitement is building. Yes, I know it’s the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, and more power to her. But I’m referring to something a tad larger.

It’s the 150th anniversary of Wellington’s incorporation this year. Now I hope that mere statement is not going to start those with similar longevity anniversaries rioting in the streets of Wellington on the Lake. And I know that, technically, Wellington is no longer an incorporated municipality, and further still, that the word ‘sesquicentennial is almost impossible to pronounce, let alone spell.

Still, Wellington is very much a community, and it always puts on a pretty good parade. So why don’t we celebrate? I don’t mean by comm u n i n g with the spirit of the Iron Duke; I mean by creating some tangible civic monument.

The sort of thing (in fact, the only thing) I have in mind is to follow what the Big Smoke has done with its own greatest asset, the CN Tower. Why? Because while we may not realize it, Wellington, like Toronto already has a tallest free standing structure and, like Toronto, it is also a tower—in our case, the water tower.

The CN Tower is milked for every possible use one can imagine. There is a restaurant over 1,100 feet up. There is a “Skypod” at the topmost level offering an “awe-inspiring 360 degree unobstructed view of Toronto” and surrounding region. There is a glass-floored observation platform which, we are assured, is safe to walk or even jump on because it can “withstand the weight of 14 large hippos.” (How they know that, I have no idea, because my hippocampus tells me that they can have never put 14 large hippos up there. And the word ‘large’ is a weasel word: I could put 14 hefty hippos up there, they would crash to the ground, and the CN Tower people would weakly plead “when we said large, we didn’t mean that large.” Unless they meant to say “14 large hippies.”)

And the latest gimmick is something called “Edgewalk.” For a mere $175, you can walk around the perimeter of the tower for an hour and a half on a five-foot-wide ledge, 116 storeys above ground, connected only by a “trolley and harness” system. Sort of like bungee jumping, I guess: no jumping, but connection only with a cord, and certain death if the cord breaks. Of course, it is designed with the “highest international safety and security standards in mind.” According to CN Tower PR, “trained Edgewalk guides will encourage participants to push their personal limits, allowing them to lean back with nothing but air and breathtaking views of Lake Ontario beneath them.”

Now for my money, I would pay $175 for the privilege never to go anywhere near Edgewalk. I would sooner push my personal limits by listening to rap music for an hour and a half. I’ve always been suspicious about the CN Tower. It was built by engineers, and therefore might fall down at any time; and always made me feel that Toronto was trying to prove it was world class by building something taller and uglier than anywhere else.

But our tower is functional, not a monument to municipal vanity. It is modest in scale. All the same, it towers over our village and gives the visitor —if the visitor had access to it—relatively speaking, the same unparalleled 360-degree views that the CN Tower would offer. And without meaning to boast, our 360-degree view is a heck of a lot better than theirs. Or at least it will be until the wind-turbinesthat- nobody-except-Dalton-wants arrive.

Our water tower could be used to draw tourists in any number of ways. We could feature a unique exercise staircase all the way to the top. We could have it painted in trendy hues of grape. We could offer an observation deck where one could observe the goings-on at Swamp College Road or the creative work of our local beaver population in the harbour. It would actually appeal to the pusher of limits in me if I were to stand, caged in, on an observation platform more than 40 feet above ground. We could open a restaurant—probably with warmer food too, since we wouldn’t have to wait for our hamburgers to be shot up 1,100 feet.

We could also offer a water slide, which would thrillingly twist down four storeys and come to a gentle rest on Oak Street. Or we could install a pool at the base of the tower and offer high diving platforms. Or we could install a rope and pulley system and people could rappel their way down to Wellington Beach.

It’s an asset just begging to have its value maximized. Sesquicentennial: bring it on. And congratulations, Betty W., on your 60th!

David Simmonds’s writing is also available at www.grubstreet.ca.