But in the three years I have lived in my townhome I have never seen a turnout so impressive. Granted, 60 attendees of 141 units still leaves room for improvement, but the previous years saw a third of that number, if that. Boards of directors were not elected, but simply anointed the post with the mere raise of a hand.

While in attendance at two previous AGMs, I was lucky to be on the other side, in the crowd, and facing the board and management company rep able to fire off questions—and accusations, apparently—at the people charged with running the corporation’s affairs.

I can now empathize with politicians who have to be accountable for every sneeze. But the thing people forget is we are actually volunteers.

When I agreed to take a spot on the board I’d no idea what I’d be getting myself into. I wanted to see where the money we paid out every month was going, and (likely as many folks who took the plunge before me), thought I could do better than previous keepers of my post. Boy was I wrong. I had no idea what a tough job it would prove to be.

I went to the meeting fully planning to resign and let someone else toss their hat into the ring, but the more I heard the uninformed, borderline-mentally unstable comments from some in attendance, it became clear if the wrong people came on board it could spell out trouble for all owners and seriously compromise our investments. With visions of satellite dishes and votes to put an end to the long-overdue work we’ve started on the complex, I felt no choice but to stay and finish what I’d started a year ago. Even the detailed explanations by a panel of experts including engineers and contractors speaking to the level of deterioration they needed to repair was not enough to silence the complaints over the money we all had to shell out. Only, when it came time to vote in the new board and the two owners with the most criticism of how we had managed things were exempt from the casting of ballots as they owed money to the corporation, did they run out of things to say.

While a few bad apples tried to spoil the spirit of the meeting and its intended purpose—to reveal to all interested parties what’s been happening since we met a year ago and the challenges and tough calls the board and management have made, a few did renew my faith in my neighbours.

Just when I felt I would again be facing thankless hours of poring over reports of spending and pet applications, and bylaw violation notices, a few people stood out in the crowd. One owner stood up and thanked us all for making the place look better than ever in the 14 years she’d lived there, and at the end of the meeting, as I was putting on my coat, another gentleman shook my hand and with a look of sheer gratitude and thanked me for everything we have done.

With the benefit of experience, be it only 12 months, I feel better going into this term on my condo’s board of directors than the starry-eyed novice I was. While four of us will return, two new owners have stepped up, and while I recognized the looks of enthusiasm and a slight trace of fear on their faces, I am cautiously optimistic the new regime will be a better one.

The next step is to meet and vote for our executive, and now I have decided to ride out my political career a bit longer, I’m considering going for broke and putting in a pitch for the top spot.

Mrs. President has kind of a nice ring to it.  CL