I've got to confess, I'm eating a heaping bowl of crow in the shape of an ugly-ass parking meter with a "Help the Homeless" sticker on it.
I was yammering away to my boss about the stupidity of these damned meters when he told me that, during a discussion in Raleigh, NC last week with the Mayor and some of the main players in ending Denver's homelessness catastrophe, 10 of those "ridiculous" meters scattered about Denver were bringing in some $100K a year.
Now that's not a huge amount of money in the grand scheme of helping those who are homeless but it sure would would help us here. $100,000 would buy 25,000 bus passes or generic prescriptions at Walmart (apologies to the Walmart haters out there but many of the poor depend on this thieving behemoth, along with Dollar General, to stretch their meager dollars) or Kroger, pay the rent at Mercury court for a year for approximately 166 folks (at $50/month, the minimum amount they must pay if they have no income), provide 28 and a half folks with a bed at a rehab center, or provide 10,000 $10 dollar grocery store gift cards.
Upon hearing this, I stood there looking stupid for a moment, muttering in defense that Nashville had tried using a meter years ago and it was an utter failure, and was again shot down in flames when he told me that while there had indeed been a meter here, it'd been placed in a bad location, no one knew where it was, and no publicity about the meter occurred at a level large enough to make a difference. So, I stand here corrected, which isn't the first time and surely won't be the last, and if someone wants to put their money into a meter, who am I to tell them it's a bad idea?
I'll soon be up at the local dustbin of failures, looking for that meter to polish it up, get er working again and then I'll find a good home for it on some busy sidewalk in downtown Nashville.
Montreal's oft-reviled parking meters have found a noble calling as benefactors to the city's homeless community.
Half a year after their introduction to the downtown core, the number of bright green parking meters that accept donations has grown to 60 from 20.
The money goes to L'Itinéraire, a support organization founded in 1990 by former addicts and homeless people. The group emphasizes giving the homeless the tools they need to get off the street.
People have been plunking about $400 a week into the meters, or more than $6 per meter per week, on average.
The total financial take of $20,000 per year from the Parco-Don initiative is fairly meagre when compared with L'Itinéraire's $1-million annual budget.
But monetary donations are only a small portion of the larger goal, said the group's marketing director, Richard Turgeon.
"The main objective is visibility, of getting the word out about us, and the issue of homelessness," he said.
Montreal's homeless population swells to as many as 30,000 people during the summer.
Next week, L'Itinéraire is to announce a major advertising campaign in which 15-second radio and TV ads will be broadcast regularly on several stations. The spots feature mock hockey games with the Parco-Dons of L'Itinéraire facing off against the Devils of Adversity.
Local media organizations are covering the production and broadcasting expenses.
"It would have cost us at least $150,000 to start an ad campaign like this," Turgeon said.
The idea of using parking meters to collect donations has been launched on a more modest scale in a few U.S. cities, like Denver and Baltimore.
A pilot project with six meters kicked off in Ottawa's touristy ByWard Market in December.
The Parco-Don project, championed by the Ville Marie borough, has been proposed to other Montreal boroughs. L'Itinéraire is waiting for responses. To date, the most successful meter has been the one outside city hall.
L'Itinéraire runs a café where homeless people can get cheap meals, and publishes a magazine twice a month; homeless salespeople purchase the periodical for $1 a copy and sell them for $2 on the street, pocketing the profits.
Salespeople have noted that many buyers mention the Parco-Don campaign, indicating the drive for visibility has been a success.
L'Itinéraire's initial reservations that people would mistake the meters for real ones were unfounded. The devices have filled a niche for people who want to donate to the homeless, but not directly to an individual who might spend the proceeds on drugs or alcohol, Turgeon said.
Donations have dropped a bit in winter, perhaps because the meters were harder to reach. Turgeon is hoping the new campaign will spur greater giving.
"We can help a lot of people with $20,000," he said.
"Here at L'Itinéraire, every dollar is used. Every dollar is a blessing."
Ryan Connors has been living on the streets of various Canadian cities for seven years. Sitting in the snow on Ste. Catherine St. near Stanley St. this week, he said the meters haven't made any discernible change in the $20 to $50 he collects each day.
"I figure anything that helps people on the street is a good thing," he said.
