That Montreal ended up with the second lowest score in the Canadian Institute for Advanced Research satisfaction survey comes as no surprise. Having lived in Montreal all my life, I watched it turn into a city of angry and abrasive malcontents. There isn't too much to be happy about when you're stuck living in a mismanaged city that is caught in the crossfire of Quebec's language conflict, run by a despotic government, dependent on a deadbeat workforce, festering in filth and on the verge of collapse. Life here revolves around broken water pipes, power failures, strikes, poor to nonexistent services, ice storms, snowstorms, torrential downpours, slippery roads and sidewalks and guessing what "until further notice" means when we ask when a service interruption will end. Unlike people living in cities like St. John's, we can't count on "the warmth and the friendliness of people" to help us weather these hardships because there's no such thing here. If anything, the rigors of living here bring out the worst in the rude, angry and uptight people in this dog-eat-dog city.

Montreal lacks the population stability that encourages people to stick together and form caring and supportive communities. The ongoing exodus of Anglophones coupled with the influx of immigrants from disadvantaged countries turned Montreal into a city of transients. Many of the remaining Anglophones head south for the winter and spend so much time with friends and relatives who left town it seems as if they have no roots here.

One can tell from the prevailing music taste that Montreal is an unhappy city. Although sad songs are popular everywhere this millennium, Montreal wallows in them. It's impossible to go anywhere without being held captive audience to the latest crooning crybabies. Many of our store and malls sound like funeral parlors. To add to the gloom, climate change keeps us socked in under an almost perpetual cloud cover.

Marla Comm, Montreal