Ruining lives and livliehoods

That's what is going on in Lytton, or in what used to be Lytton.  Five years ago, wildfires raged through the town, effectively destroying it, but the re-building has been an almost bigger fiasco.

Lytton, still in ruins.

In fact, there is barely any re-building happening because the whole thing had to align with the 2019 Declaration Act, which protects native rights under the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) -- a disasterous approach which is ruining lives and destroying livliehoods because the local indigenous people are standing in the way of construction in case someone unearths a bow and arrow or a feather.

The B.C. government is also to blame because it put the whole process in the hands of Lytton's manager and meagre staff, instead of under the guidance of professional engineers and planners.  No, premier John Horgan, in his infinite "wisdom", decided it would be better to have the traumatized manager and six other inexperienced staff run the operation.  The fact that none had any expertise in such matters was of no consequence whatsoever.

That's when it all fell to pieces.  Horgan walked away in 2022 and David Eby -- an NDP lunatic, in my opinion -- took over.  He merely replaced Horgan without an election and has ensured the town remains stuck in the mess five years on.  I mean, G-d forbid someone finds a peace pipe or part of a wigwam!

The ineptitude of the town burghers and the local indigenous, under the protection of UNDRIP, are the main stumbling blocks because during the site preparation process, a few artifacts were unearthed, which gave the Nlaka'pamux people the authority to order an archeological examination of the entire area.  

They stopped the entire process.  Nothing is being done.

What has all this cost?  Well, initial estimates were that it would cost $5.1 million for debris removal and soil remediation.  But, true to form, that ballooned to $16.7 million within months.  Now?  B.C. has handed Lytton more than $60 million -- with absolutely no accounting for the funds doled out.

What artifacts have been unearthed?  Well, no one knows because, well......no one knows because, well......no one is accountable.  I mean, archeologists have to take their time.  Just ask those still unearthing tombs in Egypt, which Howard Carter started in 1922.  It's still going on!

The fault lies with with a government that couldn't be bothered to put people and expertise on the ground right after the fire who could truly help Lytton re-build.  

What a crime for the people who lived there.  It didn't have to be this way, but with Eby in charge, it will be.

 

Are they that paranoid?

I'm talking about the hysteria over an English statement put out by Air Canada President Michael Rousseau.  Horror of horror, it was in English (with French translation, but apparently that doesn't count)!

The guy may have a French name, but he's English.  Correct me if I'm wrong -- and apparently all the hysterics in the media would say I am -- but the last time I checked, Air Canada was a crown corporation which stipulates business must be conducted in both official languages.  English is one of our official languages; it's also the language of international air traffic and business -- even in France.

I bet if the message had been in French only, no one would have batted an eye.  Get my drift?

But no, the French media and the Quebec government lost their minds and went insane.  Pundits were all over the air waves rending their garments and gnashing their teeth in risible displays of outrage and the premier demanded his resignation.  Legault probably wants Rousseau's head on a stick!  

Legault calling for Rousseau's head.

Never mind the tragic death of the two young pilots, both in their thirties.  No, never mind that, that's nothing.  The crime is the fact that the English president of Air Canada issued a statement of sympathy in English.  Rousseau was in a mad rush to get to the crash site, which he appropriately deemed more important than waiting around for someone to work up French cue cards.

Carney was disgracefully right in the thick of it, complaining along.  What do you think would have happened if the message had been in French, with English subtitles?  Nothing.  Think about that for a minute.

There was also the impending by-election in Terrebonne that had to be paramount.  So, French, French and French were the watchwords here.  To put an election above decent humanity is appalling, but that's what the Liberals did. 

It's absolutely preposterous.

That's the level of paranoia francophones apparently have over their precious French language in this country.  It overrides even death.  Shockingly, the 'Globe and Mail's front page ran with the story as it's lead headline.

If it weren't so tragic, it would be funny.  Frankly, I wonder how the families of those young men feel with no one talking about their children; apparently that's an annoying sidebar.  It's only the language the president used that so mightily offends.  I'd be furious that no one ran stories about my child's background and career in such a tragedy.

The French lost the Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759 and the French have been pouting ever since.  The British, in their misplaced magnanimity, bent over backwards to accommodate the losing party by making French an official language and giving control of provincial education to the Catholic Church.  Ridiculously, we've been bending over backwards to accommodate them ever since.

The British prevailed.

I'm sick of it.

   

What's the issue?

Why is this so difficult?  The principle of the division of Church and State must apply when anyone is dispensing a public service because the public must not know the religion of a public servant when accessing such a service.  Plain and simple.  This does, of course, not apply to those who work in the private sector; only the public.

Two different things that must be kept separate.

Naturally, religious groups are hysterically up-in-arms, charging the government with discrimination and all manner of nefarious intentions.  No, people.  It's just separation of Church and State and I wholly embrace it.

But it's going to the Supreme Court anyway.  Look the principle up, if you don't get it. The separation of church and state is:

"A legal and philosophical doctrine that prevents the government from establishing a state religion which favours one faith.  This wall of separation ensures religious freedom and secular governance."  How much clearer can it be?

When I worked at the Public Service Commission, senior management committee would spend hours debating whether public servants could put up lawn signs during election campaigns.  It was ludicrous.  They could not, but Edgar Gallant, then-commissioner, couldn't wrap his thick head around it.  

Anyway, the debate rages and the only people benefiting are the lawyers.

I have blogged this countless times, but it still rears its unnecessary head.  Oh well, it will give Richard Wagner and his gang something to chew on.  Going to post an old blog about this because it still applies.  (See above)  

Can't get one anymore

I'm talking about a great, old-fashioned club sandwich.  When was the last time you found an edible variety on any menu?  For me, the absolute best club sandwich I have ever eaten was at the 'Miss Cornwall' restaurant in Cornwall, Ontario.  

It was spectacular!  Ordinary white bread stuffed with real chicken, real cheddar, ordinary bacon, lettuce and tomato -- all smeared with plain mayonnaise.  So delicious I still remember it with my mouth watering 20-odd years on!

If you order one anywhere today you'll get ciabatta bread, fake chicken and aioli mayo.  Ridiculous.  I also can't stand cilantro and arugula -- all favourites with today's chefs.  They put that sh-t on everything!  Why?!

"You can't speak to a chef," I said to one waitress a while ago, while asking for plain Hellman's.  Because you can't.  They know everything and to h-ll with the customer.  They just can't be spoken to.  

I googled the 'Miss Cornwall' and found it closed.  It was huge and tacky and perfect!

Here it is in all its glorious tackiness.

The fact of the matter is that you can't get good food anywhere these days.  It's all ruined with silliness.  Wait, I take that back.  You can still get a great club at 'The Texas Gate' hotel here in Cochrane.  They also have liver and onions on the menu, so I order either when we go.  It's another tacky, perfect spot on the main drag.

Here is another great spot to get ordinary food.

So, if you're ever in Cochrane, stop in at the last remaining restaurant for ordinary food.  Sigh...........

  

I know this place well

...Hulse, Playfair and McGarry, the premier funeral parlour establishment in Ottawa.  "Death is part of life, dear," my Mother used to say when she started taking me there.  I was no more than six years old.

When someone she knew died, she took me along and I remember large, quiet rooms, smelling of flowers, with Kleenex boxes on every table.  I also remember gazing at the corpses lying in repose and thinking they didn't look asleep, they looked dead.

A familiar sight for me from a very young age.

That's where I learned what you do when someone in your circle dies.  You send a note, you call, you show up at the funeral home.  You show concern.  

That's why I read the obituaries every day in 'The Ottawa Citizen'; there's often someone I know in there.  That's how I learned that Louis Huneault's wife had died.  Louis was the deputy minister to whom I reported when I worked at Customs and Excise and he was the best boss I have ever had.

During my weekly meetings with him, my rule was one minute per item.  Very smart and savvy, that's all the time he needed to make a decision.  Because they were so short, my meetings were never cancelled.  He didn't like people who babbled and prattled.

Not to brag (well, OK, I'm bragging), but I was the one tapped to pen all the cab docs and issue papers.  I could always find and articulate the issue, which, contrary to what you might think, was not an ability everyone possessed.  Instead of capturing the issue in one, succinct sentence, most people ramble on with all sorts of background and blah, blah.  Ask me to state and articulate the actual issue and I always did it.

I also wrote all the deputies' and ministers' speeches for the same reasons:  I was bloody good at it.

But back to funeral homes.  I quickly posted a condolence and then picked up the phone and called him.  He answered -- shocked, but probably not surprised.  I had done that when the late Dick Fulford's wife died; I immediately sent a sympathy card, even though I did not know her.  That's just what you do, that's how I was reared.

I think that sympathy card played a role in why I was tapped for the job of manager, Communications and Client Relations for the GST.  Louis told me he and Dick had been out playing golf and when Louis talked about who would be good at the job, Dick said, "What about Nancy Marley-Clarke?"  I got the job.  Was it because of that card?  Could have been.

Funeral homes are part of my background and heritage.  My great-grandfather, Charles Lord, was an undertaker in Brockville, when my grandmother was growing up.  Their name was "Lord" and she used to be teased: "The Lord came down to bury the dead," her classmates would chant.

Back then, the deceased was laid out in the front room of the home, which is why they became known as funeral parlours.  If you've ever watched 'Mon Oncle Antoine', a beautiful film by Claude Jutras, you'll know how it was done before the advent of commercial parlours.

Writing a condolence, I checked for others by people who worked for him.  I was the only one, at least in 'The Citizen'.  Where was Suzanne Parent?  What about Marie-Josée Martel?  Why didn't they write in sympathy?

Guess they weren't fortunate enough to have had a Mother like mine.

Rest in peace, Rachel.

I think Cathal Kelly reads his mail

Sent this (see letter, below photo) to 'The Globe and Mail', the other day, but it didn't get in because I've had too many lately.  Also sent the same suggestion to Cathal Kelly, sports columnist.  He didn't reply, but he did write about what I had suggested in today's paper and went even further, suggesting they dump him altogether.  Here's the letter I wrote to Mr. Kelly a few days ago: 

"Dear Mr. Kelly,

"I am a huge fan and was just thinking about the Leafs.  I know it sounds insane, but were I the coach, I would bench Matthews and Nylander indefinitely.  I mean, wouldn't that be perfect?!  

That would get their attention and maybe spur the team from somnolence to inspiration and serious play.  They can't be traded and are doing nothing for the team, so why not?  I would also restore Tavares as the captain.

"Yours in admiration,
Nancy Marley-Clarke"

Cathal Kelly's column today.  Did I influence him?  Could be. 

Part of his column, saying it would be smart to trade Matthews.

Here's the letter I wrote to 'The Globe and Mail', which didn't get in:

"Dear Editor,

"If the Leafs can't convince Matthews to waive his no-trade clause, they should bench him — maybe even make Tavares captain again.  That shocker might humiliate him into leaving, but even if it doesn't, the team couldn't get any worse.

"I'm no hockey expert, but I grew up in the era of the original six, where mesmerizing stars dazzled on every team.  Matthews certainly isn't in that league.  He looks bored and unhappy every shift.  Time for him to pick up his marbles and go home."

Nancy Marley-Clarke

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I would not have done it

I wondered why the Irish Ambassador to Canada held his St. Patrick's Day celebration on March 10th, instead of on the actual day, March 17th?  Apparently, it was to accommodate the busy international globe trotting of our never-here prime minister.

In case the Irish ambassador has forgotten, it's on March 17th

Were I the ambassador, I would not have done such a thing.  I would have said I was sorry the PM couldn't attend and would he please send someone else.  But no, the Irish ambassador threw his party on the day the PM told him to.

Did I mention that this is the Irish ambassador we're talking about?  Did I mention this is the most famous day in the entire Irish calendar?  How could the guy change the date?!  That's sacrilege in my book.  

Speaking of out-of-line ambassadors, I am worried that the U.S. ambassador to Canada is a tad over his skis these days.  He has actually demanded an apology from the brilliant 'Globe and Mail' sports columnist Cathal Kelly (pronounced kaHAL) for a column the latter wrote about the U.S. women's Olympic hockey team.  Apparently, Bully-in-Chief Pete Hoekstra (just my opinion) found Kelly's column insulting.

Really?!  Could the U.S. ambassador's completely inappropriate intervention have had something to do with Kelly's fewer appearances?  I certainly hope not.  You don't get to intervene in a columnist's views, Mr. Hoekstra.  This is not Russia and Kelly doesn't write for Pravda.  

Columnists are paid to express their views.  That's how it works.  Kelly is not appearing as often as he usually does in that newspaper and it better not be over this.  I don't follow sports, but I read him every day because he is simply a brilliant writer.  Maybe he's taking a holiday?  I sure hope so because that newspaper would suffer greatly were he to leave.  (He's always in on Saturday's, so I'll let you know.  Yes, he's in today.  Whew!)

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Speaking again of Carney, apparently the brilliance of our economic genius of a PM has landed our economy at number 19 in the G20.  Way to go!  He's also presided over the loss of 108,000 mostly fulltime jobs in the last two months.  108,000!  Wow, spectacular job, Mr. Uh, uh, Carney!  (His "uh's" are worse than Trudeau's!)

Trump's tariffs have contributed to this disaster because "elbows up Carney" and his sidekick Leblanc haven't managed to get his promised, guaranteed US deal done.

As I have repeatedly said, if you voted for him, you were had.