Why I don't play golf

So hot, we went to the golf club for an early dinner. Eavesdropping as usual, I overheard a conversation which pretty much summed up why I don't play golf. The wife said to the husband: "Last Thursday I finally hit the perfect shot. When he saw it, your father said we had to analyze the divot to see how it happened. That was so helpful. We got down on our hands and knees and saw the direction of the divot and the depth and it really will make a huge difference when I try to hit another shot like that." I kid you not! Admit it, you golfers reading this are thinking, "Gee maybe that's not a bad idea." You are, I know you are!

The husband replied, "The key to golf is never to talk when you're playing a round. I believe silence is the key to a good game." The wife shut up. I always say I would rather go out on the first tee and set fire to money.

So there you have it, folks. Golf is a mystery, wrapped up in an enigma, enveloped in a riddle....or whatever that expression is. I figure it is pretty much unplayable. The problem is physics. The club is too long and the ball too small. You just can't hit the blessed thing. A cruel joke perpetrated on the rest of the world by the mischievious Scots.

The local paper today carried a facinating article about the first golf writer, Canadian Arnold Haultain, who wrote 'The Mystery of Golf', published in 1908. Apparently, it remains the definitive verdict on the game:

"Golf resolves itself into this: It is not a wrestle with bogey; it is not a struggle with your mortal foe; it is a physiological, psychological and moral fight with yourself."

In the end, Haultain in his quest to unravel golf's deepest mysteries, is forced to concede defeat:

"The ultimate analysis is hopeless," he concludes. "As hopeless as the ultimate analysis of that of metaphysics or that of the feminine heart."

So, that's why I don't play.

The new BLOC

Sadly, the NDP is much in the news lately as a result of the failing health of Jack Layton. It started me thinking about the NDP and its recent rise to new heights in the federal arena. The NDP is actually the new BLOC, thanks to the huge support given it in Quebec. As I have said, federally Quebec votes for the party it thinks will gain the most $$$ and influence in Ottawa. After a good number of years, the parochial BLOC morphed into a gathering of lame-duck whingers, so Quebeckers bounced to the NDP -- much to the surprise of Mr. Layton. Hence the impressive showing in this Parliament.

Now a Quebecker has been acclaimed interim leader. That may help, but I doubt it. If Quebec doesn't get what it wants, it will switch its vote again. Maybe this is good news for the Liberals? No clue.

Formed in 1932, the NDP began as the CCF -- the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation -- a western rump party disgruntled with mainstream politics. But the NDP became a national party under Tommy Douglas; the BLOC did not. So, as I say, the BLOC is now the NDP in the House of Commons and the NDP in Quebec is the new BLOC.

Why do I watch?!

The Batchelorette continues unabated. Why do I watch? It is just one hideous scene after another, but I cannot tear myself away. Last night Ashley was down to three guys when suddenly, one bailed during dinner -- just before she was about to present him with the invitation to at long last bed her. I mean, the guy didn't even get through his first course. Imagine, putting up with her vapid personality and average looks for weeks and then tossing it all in at the moment of truth. Or maybe he was the smartest guy in the room and just could not stomach a phony one-night stand. Whatever, off he trotted, leaving Ashley sitting at the table completely clueless. You could see the trace of panic and terror in her eyes, as she realized, "What if the other guys dump me?!" Now it's up to Ben/JP to duke it out.

So, one night she does the dirty with Ben and the next she switches to JP. How is that real? And neither guy seems to mind that she's simultaneously head-over-heels with the other! Every date is......."just the best ever. With Ben I feel so relaxed, he's the real deal." Split seconds later it's........."With JP it's just the best ever. With JP I feel so relaxed, he's the real deal." It is so unsightly, but absolutely riveting. She spends most dates smacking, licking and pursing her lips, while she asks dreamily, "What was the best moment for you today Ben/JP?", gazing lovingly into her own reflection in their eyes and tugging on her forelock for the millionth time.

And drink! In every scene everyone is pounding it morning, noon and night. It's cheers to this and I'll drink to that! Every now and then our Ashley shrieks or squeals when she stumbles upon some fabulous and brilliant insight like, "Isn't this place unreal! I have never seen water so blue! Whee, a helicopter!" Ben/JP now profess to be madly in love with her.......or at least starting to maybe feel that way, a bit, for sure, probably.

And then Ryan shows up. What a loser! "Ry", as she calls him, appears out of nowhere just to be sure she really did dump him. After two days of mooning around on his own, staring into crashing waves and deserted space, he realizes that yes, "Ash" really did dump him. But he actually needs another dose of full-on, frontal rejection to get it. She has to make a special trip to his hotel room to tell him again to his face that, "I just don't feel that special something that I have found with Ben/JP." Nevermind, he grabs her in a passionate embrace and she returns it! I thought the guy was going to burst into paroxyms of balling as he watched her stumble away, her unfortunately-bowed legs tottering on high heels. He had to turn away from the camera, it was so pathetic.

These guys are now "totally in love with Ash" -- despite not having spent one real moment with her during the entire show. Always made up and dressed to the back teeth, she meanders around movie set locations munching gourmet food and tossing back yet more wine. Wait 'til they see her with a hangover and PMS!

Can't wait for next week.

Someone finally called it

Thirty-one years ago, when I worked there, the Public Service Commission had long since ceased to be the watchdog and guardian of the merit principle. The member of the deputy-ministers' club who headed it back then was enthusiastically disinclined to challenge or question any appointments being promoted by the fellow members of his exclusive club. Afterall, he socialized with these mandarins and toadied to many. So, challenge he did not -- much to the frustration of those of us still young and idealistic. The Chair of the PSC was an ombudsman and an Officer of Parliament and the Commission itself reported directly to Parliament. Nonetheless, he was a weak leader, in my never-to-be-humble opinion. Sadly, his successors followed suit, as far as I can tell.

So, it came as no surprise to read today that an ombudsman had to be appointed to oversee this ombudsman PSC and low and behold, they discovered the books were cooked, so to speak. What did surprise me was that it took 30 years to figure it all out. I remember in my youthful zeal writing a report to my boss, stating that the merit principle had been set aside in order to redress historical wrongdoings in the staffing of jobs in the federal public service. In other words, the merit principle was being manipulated so that women, francophones and ethnic minorities could be placed in positions which otherwise might have eluded them.

When that memo hit my boss' desk, the roof came off! Man, it was as if I'd pulled another Igor Guzenko! You'd have thought I'd uncovered a mass state secret that threatened the lives of thousands! He literally came running down the hall and burst into my office, slamming the door. He was scared silly that "The Chairman" might catch wind of this fact and be insulted. That, ladies and gentlemen, was one of my first indoctrinations into how the public service worked. No one ever told the truth to superiors. G-d forbid! No, everything was spun to show the Minister in the best possible light. That was the beginning of my settling into the culture that enveloped me my entire career. After that, whenever I spoke up -- much too often, I am sure -- my career took a bit of a beating.

The fact that I ended up where I did was a bit of a miracle. Happily.

A faint tickle on the scratching of the surface

That's how one immigration lawyer described the 1,800 illegal residents being asked to forfeit their "Canadian" passports. And even at that, Canada being Canada, they will be given a chance to appeal and have a federal court hearing, so they aren't exactly being given the bum's rush. Apparently, these 1,800 don't even live in Canada, but rather have fraudently obtained Canadian passports, using criminal "consultants" -- or co-conspirators, as this lawyer put it -- to make it appear as if they do.........things such as fake residences, fake mail, fake accounts....all managed by well-paid criminals here. Not wanting to live here but wanting the passport, they come to Canada for a few hours and then jet back to their tax havens. With a majority, the Harper government is moving very quickly to get this mess cleared up. Hear, hear. No new laws will have to be written, no new bills passed. No, Canada will simply have to finally begin to enforce those already on the books.

As I have said, Canada is a country of convenience and a Canadian passort highly-coveted. In fact, that little, mainly ignored Crown on the cover of your passport represents freedom, tolerance and the rule of law to every border guard and immigration officer wearing a uniform in every corner of the globe. And with so many terrorists in the United Kingdom, thanks to Britain's previously-held realms, a Canadian passport trumps a British one any day.

Speaking of the Crown, 'The Telegraph' recently published a very lengthy and detailed article on what the Monarchy costs each Briton,versus what it brings into the public coffers. Fifty-one pence versus billions. With a gold standard like that, why anyone objects to Her Majesty is ludicrously beyond me. As for those Canadians pushing for a republic, they understand neither the Canadian Constitution, nor the place of the Crown in it. It is very unfortunate Canadian schools stopped teaching Canadian history. If they hadn't, people who think the Canadian legal system is based on the Charter of Rights and Freedoms would have to give their vacant heads an edifying shake.

Tax experts

I ramble glibly about delivering ad-hoc tax clinics around the country on social jaunts, but I just had a wonderful lunch with two women who could run circles around me in that department. Now retired, both worked in the money machinations of RevCan -- places where the $$$-rubber hits the road and the money gets collected. (I ran a program that gave money back to people whose accounts we had messed up.) But these two charming gals ran key parts of the revenue-generation system. As I always say, taxes make the world go 'round. And Canada is a world-beater in the revenue-sharing business, which is how wealth is re-distributed for the betterment of us all.

I remain very proud to have been a part of the Canada Revenue Agency, as it is now called. I was also very proud to have been with Customs and Excise. These are places that make the country work -- places where one can actually see how schlepping into work every day makes a difference. The colleagues I lunched with today were not token feminist appointments. No. They were skilled and experienced people who did a "real" job -- regardless of gender. It really is a pleasure to be included in their social circle. To have worked "in the trenches" in the money-collecting business in this country was an honour. I will miss them both.

Speaking of "real" jobs, we were delighted to have been at the graduation of our son-in-law in the Calgary Fire Department. Having spent six years in the fire service in Vancouver, he nonetheless had to start all over in Calgary and it was wonderful to watch the successful graduates last week start their careers. Being a fire fighter is a special, chosen profession. We are very proud of Colin.

Poor kid

He'll never play in the BC/Calgary football game he was so involved in on the plane. Fat, he lumbered down the aisle carrying a large coke and a huge chocolate bar. He was travelling alone and had the window seat next to mine. The minute we were airborne, he ordered pringles and an extra pepsi. Here was a kid of about 12, who was already very obese and getting more so. And there was not one ounce of food value in anything the kid put in his mouth in more than three hours. What kind of parents let their kid get like that? One of them had to have seen him off and helped him load up on sugar and junk. What's with that? Why would you disenfranchise your child like that?

Sad.

You knew I'd have to weigh in.....

...on the Women's Worlds Feminist Convention, being held here today. I'd like to drop in, but I dare not; the precious few men attending would be very disheartening. Let's face it, the societal ills the 1,600 delegates are trying to address, i.e., poverty, food and water insecurity, homelessness, sex trafficking and war rape, are basically caused by, well, men. No, it would be a gathering of well-meaning, empowered western women talking about the lives of their desperately poor disenfranchised counterparts in the third world in a fancy hotel across the street from a Parliament that isn't sitting. In other words, well-meaning, middle class socialists and activists talking to each other. Now, if the male power brokers who rule the world were attending, it might be a different story. But probably not.

One of the main objectives of the conference is to abolish prostitution. Now, there's a delusional fantasy if ever one existed. The reality is that women who have nothing but sex to sell to feed their families have to sell.....sex. That's because those who rule the world make decisions that result in the depraved conditions in which millions of women are forced to live (see list above). Prostitution won't go away, that's why I favour the Amsterdam model, where it can at least be regulated in relative safety. (I know that doesn't square with my Catholicity, but it does with reality.)

So, that's my amateur analysis. Think about it, if prostitution were outlawed, the millions of partners within legal and common-law unions providing sex for money would be in jeopardy -- not to mention the millions of divorcees who continue to get money for having previously provided the commodity. Our whole "civilized" house of cards would come crashing down on the heads of lucky lawyers everywhere.

With apologies to everyone..........

......who thought Princess Diana was a selfless saint, I have to say that Catherine makes her look like a brazen hussy, to use an old-fashioned expression. Just looked that up in the dictionary and hussy is described as "a pert, forward girl, a worthless woman, a housewife". (That last description is a bit galling, but there you have it.) Brazen is "impudent, shameless". So, I think that about describes her. I stopped being a fan when the marriage broke up and she fell headlong into screaming, all-encompassing narcissism. When she started traipsing around the world with her face hanging out, embarrassing herself and the monarchy she was supposed to be representing. You know, the people who were footing the bill, her former in-laws, and the future King of England, her son, so to speak.

But this young woman seems to be able to work the crowd without upstaging William. She is utterly charming. And somehow, if the unthinkable were to happen, I doubt she would behave as Diana did. More like Camilla, I would think. Absolutely mum.

Seriously

Saw coverage a few minutes ago of a guy who has become a privileged Canadian citizen today. Here is a man who can now carry the coveted Canadian passport, someone who is pretty much untouchable travelling throughout the world. But what was he decked out in? "His" country's Indian national dress. I. KID. YOU. NOT. I thought Canada had become "his" country? But no, here he was on national tv, having become a Canadian while proudly wearing his "national" Indian costume. OH. MY G-D., as my darling departed mother would have quietly wispered.

As I have said, Canada is now a "country of convenience" for many of the perpetually disgruntled.

Nailing the shoes

The Duchess of Cambridge is absolutely gorgeous. Resplendent in white, with a red facinator and red shoes, she nailed it. I love the fact that she gets the shoes right every time. Any outfit can be ruined by the wrong shoes, as we all know. Outfits have to be anchored top and bottom; hats and shoes accomplish this. How many times have we seen lovely dresses cancelled out by hideously-shod feet. Sadly, Ottawa is the centre of the "sensible shoe" universe. G-d I hate sensible shoes!

An enjoyable lunch on a Bell's Corners patio today came to an abrupt end when the happy little family seated beside us reaffirmed the chaos theory. There they sat, tubby Mum and chubby Dad, stuffed into chairs, single-mindedly scarfing unnecessary wings and fries, leaving two-year-old daughter and infant son to their own devices: colouring book and soother. As quickly as you could say "mind that glass", daughter had it inevitably and predictably splattered all over the table, chair and floor. But nevermind, Mum grabbed the kid, who by this time had started wailing, and immediately reassured it that everything was fine, she had done nothing wrong and don't-cry-darling. A hundred waiters and waitresses rushed to the rescue, while the rest of us gamely tried to ignore the mess. I would not want to be the next patrons sitting at that table trying to unglue their innocent shoes from the sticky, gucky, sugary floor.

It's always on these occasions that B tells me to "just ignore it". But, of course, I can't. I start remembering outings with our four and how we just did not permit them to run amok. Who wants to pay to sit beside families with unruly kids? The Dad was so unnerved he had to rush out for a smoke, while Mum ordered another grape drink for the kid and tucked back into her wings. Perfect.