Now the UN wants Canada to take in......wait for it......30,000 refugees from Syria! Why does Canada have to take in people from war-torn failed states because their own leadership is killing them and won't look after anyone who manages to survive?
I'm sorry, but Canada is a successful country with hard-working, law-abiding citizens and we don't deserve thousands of people streaming in here to be looked after by...........us. These wars are caused purposefully by the leaders of these pathetic places. I don't think it's our responsibility to take in those fleeing. Can't remember which PM signed the UN declaration on refugees -- probably that sap Pearson -- but it was a big mistake.
Ridiculous.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Big and bigger
So obesity is on the rise. You don't need a study to tell you that! Just look around you anywhere you venture and there they are in all their gross splendor. Here are a couple of photos I took from a couple of newspaper articles on the latest study:
 |
She actually needs a cane to keep her upright! |
We were at the Calgary Zoo the other day and I simply could not believe the hordes of morbidly obese young women in their 20s, toting babies and toddlers around. Obviously, they hadn't bothered to lose the pregnancy weight. G-d! What will they look like when they are my age?! When I was very young, I remember asking my Dad why some people are so fat? "Well, dear, just look at what they are eating." That was certainly the case in the food pavilion at the zoo. These young women were noshing on cheese burgers ad nauseum. It was pretty sickening. And their kids were fat too.
The latest study, 'Global Burden of Disease' published in 'The Lancet', says that obesity rates rose from 857 million people in 1980 to 2.1 billion in 2013, with a 47% increase in childhood obesity. That's just plain awful. Canada is just slightly behind the worst offender, the USA. Here, 65% of men and 49% of women are overweight. The worst news is that 26% of boys under the age of 20 and 22% of girls under 20 are obese. What surprised me was the rise of obesity in places such as China and India. Right up there, but not a patch on the Americans.
All very preventable if mothers actually knew how to scratch-cook for their families. Bring back home-ec!
Monday, May 26, 2014
Not Quite
The Great God, Peter Mansbridge, wrote a tribute to Knowlton Nash. Had he read it, Knowlton would have turned. Here are just a few of the grammatical errors:
"He didn't say it as the speech coaches might have taught it." You need to drop the last "it". Should read, "He didn't say it as the speech coaches might have taught."
"I was eye-bulging impressed." No, it has to be, "I was eye-bulgingly impressed."
"Knowlton was the bridge between the way journalism once was and the way it is now." No. Should be, "Knowlton was the bridge between the way journalism was and the way it is."
Sorry, Peter. And don't get me started on the myriad of punctuational errors in his piece. See, punctuation is critical to the meaning of any piece of writing because it completely changes the meaning of a sentence. A headline in The Globe the other day was a prime example. It read, "Turkey Mine Disaster". That means there was a disaster in a turkey mine, you know, where they mine turkeys. Should have read, "Turkish Mine Disaster". And if they meant "turkey mine disaster" there should have been a hyphen between "turkey" and "mine", as in "Turkey-Mine...".
Sorry, but I am a grammar Nazi and will always be.
"He didn't say it as the speech coaches might have taught it." You need to drop the last "it". Should read, "He didn't say it as the speech coaches might have taught."
"I was eye-bulging impressed." No, it has to be, "I was eye-bulgingly impressed."
"Knowlton was the bridge between the way journalism once was and the way it is now." No. Should be, "Knowlton was the bridge between the way journalism was and the way it is."
Sorry, Peter. And don't get me started on the myriad of punctuational errors in his piece. See, punctuation is critical to the meaning of any piece of writing because it completely changes the meaning of a sentence. A headline in The Globe the other day was a prime example. It read, "Turkey Mine Disaster". That means there was a disaster in a turkey mine, you know, where they mine turkeys. Should have read, "Turkish Mine Disaster". And if they meant "turkey mine disaster" there should have been a hyphen between "turkey" and "mine", as in "Turkey-Mine...".
Sorry, but I am a grammar Nazi and will always be.
More about my favourite appliance
Clotheslines. A friend sent me some clothesline facts, which are so true. As you know, I love my drying racks and lines. Does anything smell better than clothes dried on an outdoor line? Here are a few tried and true tips................
1. You had to hang the socks by the toes... NOT the top.
2. You hung pants by the BOTTOM/cuffs... NOT the waistbands.
2. You hung pants by the BOTTOM/cuffs... NOT the waistbands.
3. You had to WASH the clothesline(s) before hanging any clothes -
walk the entire length of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.
4. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang "whites" with "whites,"
and hang them first.
5. You NEVER hung a shirt by the shoulders - always by the tail!
What would the neighbours think?
walk the entire length of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.
4. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang "whites" with "whites,"
and hang them first.
5. You NEVER hung a shirt by the shoulders - always by the tail!
What would the neighbours think?
6. Wash
day on a Monday! NEVER hang clothes on the weekend,
or on Sunday, for Heaven's sake!
7. Hang the sheets and towels on the OUTSIDE lines so you could
hide your "unmentionables" in the middle (perverts, busybodies, y'know!)
8. It didn't matter if it was sub-zero weather... clothes would "freeze-dry."
9. ALWAYS gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes!
Pins left on the lines were "tacky"!
10. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item
did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothes pins with the next washed item.
11. Clothes off of the line before dinner time, neatly folded in the clothes basket,
and ready to be ironed. IRONED??!! Well, that's a whole OTHER subject!
or on Sunday, for Heaven's sake!
7. Hang the sheets and towels on the OUTSIDE lines so you could
hide your "unmentionables" in the middle (perverts, busybodies, y'know!)
8. It didn't matter if it was sub-zero weather... clothes would "freeze-dry."
9. ALWAYS gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes!
Pins left on the lines were "tacky"!
10. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item
did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothes pins with the next washed item.
11. Clothes off of the line before dinner time, neatly folded in the clothes basket,
and ready to be ironed. IRONED??!! Well, that's a whole OTHER subject!
And now a POEM...
A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by,
There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew
If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two.
For then you'd see the "fancy sheets", And towels upon the line;
You'd see the "company table cloths", With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby's birth, From folks who lived inside,
As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride!
The ages of the children could, So readily be known
By watching how the sizes changed, You'd know how much they'd grown!
It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung;
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung.
It also said, "On vacation now", When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way.
A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by,
There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew
If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two.
For then you'd see the "fancy sheets", And towels upon the line;
You'd see the "company table cloths", With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby's birth, From folks who lived inside,
As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride!
The ages of the children could, So readily be known
By watching how the sizes changed, You'd know how much they'd grown!
It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung;
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung.
It also said, "On vacation now", When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way.
But
clotheslines now are of the past, For dryers make work much less.
Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody's guess!
I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign
When neighbors knew each other best... By what hung on the line.
Amen.
Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody's guess!
I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign
When neighbors knew each other best... By what hung on the line.
Amen.
Friday, May 23, 2014
What it Really Means
"'Idle No More' would quite literally mean accepting participation in the Canadian wage economy and therefore more integration, not less, with the rest of society." That was the theme of a recent column by the Globe and Mail's Jeffrey Simpson.
Of course, most of the 'Idle No More' gang have no idea what it all means. They think it means "the government" should do more and give more. Of everything. First nations want to be treated as self-governing bodies, but how can they be? They certainly don't have the capacity and revenue to provide health, welfare, education, justice, policing and all the other services rightly demanded by any population of its own government. There is no way natives can be self-governing because they don't have the self-generated money to do so. Especially as they continue to block every attempt to work with oil companies and provinces, for example, to get the $$$ out of the ground -- money that could flow to them. Every leaf of every tree must be protected. How dumb can you get?!
"The entire constitutional, political, economical and sociological structures of aboriginal Canadians have been based for many decades on parallelism within Canada, a hard sell to the rest of the population that is strongly integrationist. Canada places a high (sic) symbolic value on multiculturalism, even placing it in the Constitution and handing out grants to multicultural organizations, while simultaneously being one of the world's most integrationist countries Indeed, just as the social condition of aboriginals is Canada's biggest failure, its greatest success has been the integration of millions of people from the four corners of the earth with a minimum of social conflict," said Jeffrey.
Yes, it is ironic that the scores of immigrants coming to Canada desperately want to be "Canadian", yet the aboriginals don't. Simpson was writing about the slap-dash United Nations report by someone named James Anaya who missed the point that of first nations communities receiving federal funding, 70 percent have fewer that 500 residents and most are purposefully isolated from centres of activity and economy.
The relationship between aboriginals and their 600 chiefs and the rest of Canada is abysmal. The Assembly of First Nations has collapsed into internal political battling between those who want to work with government (such as Shawn Atleo, who finally gave up and resigned) and those who wish to confront it. Most natives want more distance from mainstream Canada, a big mistake but I guess it makes the chiefs feel better.
This evening, as I was leaving the Calgary Tennis Club, I was distracted by a man and woman fighting on a park bench not far from the parking lot. Yep, they were natives and yep, they were drunk. Their leadership has let them down all the while blaming the rest of Canada for the mess they are in.
My only hope is that that couple doesn't have children waiting somewhere for Mummy and Daddy to come home and feed them.
Of course, most of the 'Idle No More' gang have no idea what it all means. They think it means "the government" should do more and give more. Of everything. First nations want to be treated as self-governing bodies, but how can they be? They certainly don't have the capacity and revenue to provide health, welfare, education, justice, policing and all the other services rightly demanded by any population of its own government. There is no way natives can be self-governing because they don't have the self-generated money to do so. Especially as they continue to block every attempt to work with oil companies and provinces, for example, to get the $$$ out of the ground -- money that could flow to them. Every leaf of every tree must be protected. How dumb can you get?!
"The entire constitutional, political, economical and sociological structures of aboriginal Canadians have been based for many decades on parallelism within Canada, a hard sell to the rest of the population that is strongly integrationist. Canada places a high (sic) symbolic value on multiculturalism, even placing it in the Constitution and handing out grants to multicultural organizations, while simultaneously being one of the world's most integrationist countries Indeed, just as the social condition of aboriginals is Canada's biggest failure, its greatest success has been the integration of millions of people from the four corners of the earth with a minimum of social conflict," said Jeffrey.
Yes, it is ironic that the scores of immigrants coming to Canada desperately want to be "Canadian", yet the aboriginals don't. Simpson was writing about the slap-dash United Nations report by someone named James Anaya who missed the point that of first nations communities receiving federal funding, 70 percent have fewer that 500 residents and most are purposefully isolated from centres of activity and economy.
The relationship between aboriginals and their 600 chiefs and the rest of Canada is abysmal. The Assembly of First Nations has collapsed into internal political battling between those who want to work with government (such as Shawn Atleo, who finally gave up and resigned) and those who wish to confront it. Most natives want more distance from mainstream Canada, a big mistake but I guess it makes the chiefs feel better.
This evening, as I was leaving the Calgary Tennis Club, I was distracted by a man and woman fighting on a park bench not far from the parking lot. Yep, they were natives and yep, they were drunk. Their leadership has let them down all the while blaming the rest of Canada for the mess they are in.
My only hope is that that couple doesn't have children waiting somewhere for Mummy and Daddy to come home and feed them.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
He was 17, I was eight
No, it's not what you think. I started ballet lessons when I was eight at the local Lindenlea Community Centre in Ottawa where our instructor was David Moroni. This came back to me today when I attended a fund-raising lunch at the Calgary Golf and Country Club for 'Alberta Ballet' as a guest of a wonderful friend I have met here. (I'll get to our hostess "M" later.)
"Stand up straight, head up, shoulders back," David used to demand. "You can always tell a ballet dancer when you see one coming down the street. They know how to walk," he admonished every Saturday morning if we dared hunch, slouch or slink. G-d forbid! He never treated us as children. Very demanding, David expected all of us to hit every position perfectly. If not, he tapped you on the toes or knees until you did. I loved the lessons. Apparently, so did many students of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, where he became principal dancer in 1966 and eventually head of the company's professional training program for many years before retiring in 2003 -- but not before receiving the Order of Canada in 1990. Good for him and well-deserved.
Who came to know the rap of David's cane? People such as Evelyn Hart, David Peregrine, Tara Birtwhistle and Jennifer Welsman. That's who. And to think, I was a pupil amongst that august company! It's kind of thrilling.
The speaker today was the current head of Alberta Ballet, Jean Grand-Maitre -- whose surname no one could properly pronounce here in dear old Calgary. Never mind, the luncheon was designed to raise funds for toe shoes. Really? Had no idea that ballerinas can demolish a pair or two in one performance. And since they run about $150, the shoes are a very draining piece of the performance. Have never been to a "shoe fund raiser", but it was fascinating. To entice us to bid, worn shoes were passed around to each table. As I examined them, I recalled how David would never let us wear them because, a) we were not adequately skilled and, b) our little bones would not have been able to stand the stress.
Our charming hostess, M, bid on an autographed pair for one of her daughters-in-law. It went for $ 1,000, but all to a good cause -- especially if you have the money. The bid also included lunch with Grand-Maitre, so that was a serious bonus. It was Grand-Maitre who told me all about David Moroni; I was grateful. Tried to contact David on...whatever...to no avail. But apparently, he is still well and living in retirement in New Brunswick.
I was grateful and honoured to have been invited by M to the lunch. The only other people at our table (Number One, of course) were her sisters, daughters-in-laws and best friends over many years. To have been seated beside her was a real honour. M kind'a runs Calgary. A devout Catholic, she has Mass said at all her gatherings. Usually there are several priests in attendance, as well as a Vatican representative...or two. "Will Francis attend your next gathering?" I laughingly asked. Seriously, might just happen.
Her parties are the most fun ever.
"Stand up straight, head up, shoulders back," David used to demand. "You can always tell a ballet dancer when you see one coming down the street. They know how to walk," he admonished every Saturday morning if we dared hunch, slouch or slink. G-d forbid! He never treated us as children. Very demanding, David expected all of us to hit every position perfectly. If not, he tapped you on the toes or knees until you did. I loved the lessons. Apparently, so did many students of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, where he became principal dancer in 1966 and eventually head of the company's professional training program for many years before retiring in 2003 -- but not before receiving the Order of Canada in 1990. Good for him and well-deserved.
Who came to know the rap of David's cane? People such as Evelyn Hart, David Peregrine, Tara Birtwhistle and Jennifer Welsman. That's who. And to think, I was a pupil amongst that august company! It's kind of thrilling.
The speaker today was the current head of Alberta Ballet, Jean Grand-Maitre -- whose surname no one could properly pronounce here in dear old Calgary. Never mind, the luncheon was designed to raise funds for toe shoes. Really? Had no idea that ballerinas can demolish a pair or two in one performance. And since they run about $150, the shoes are a very draining piece of the performance. Have never been to a "shoe fund raiser", but it was fascinating. To entice us to bid, worn shoes were passed around to each table. As I examined them, I recalled how David would never let us wear them because, a) we were not adequately skilled and, b) our little bones would not have been able to stand the stress.
Our charming hostess, M, bid on an autographed pair for one of her daughters-in-law. It went for $ 1,000, but all to a good cause -- especially if you have the money. The bid also included lunch with Grand-Maitre, so that was a serious bonus. It was Grand-Maitre who told me all about David Moroni; I was grateful. Tried to contact David on...whatever...to no avail. But apparently, he is still well and living in retirement in New Brunswick.
I was grateful and honoured to have been invited by M to the lunch. The only other people at our table (Number One, of course) were her sisters, daughters-in-laws and best friends over many years. To have been seated beside her was a real honour. M kind'a runs Calgary. A devout Catholic, she has Mass said at all her gatherings. Usually there are several priests in attendance, as well as a Vatican representative...or two. "Will Francis attend your next gathering?" I laughingly asked. Seriously, might just happen.
Her parties are the most fun ever.
60 Days for Murder
He didn't like the way his 13-year-old daughter was cleaning the kitchen, so he killed her. And what was his sentence? Sixty days to be served two days a week.
It is so outrageous I can barely type! The bottom line for both the ludicrous and incompetent judge and the defence lawyer were the "cultural differences" between Guineans and Canadians. Whaaaaat??!! Apparently, in Guinea you can slap your daughters with gay abandon -- even if the slap causes their death. But the judge (sorry, but I bet she was a woman) said the cultural differences between the two countries could not be discounted. By the way, no one beats or slaps boys.
Hey Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore! Justice is blind and cultural differences must be discounted -- unless, of course, you're a native Canadian and then 'Bob's your uncle'. But for the rest of us, this is Canada and not only can you not use unreasonable corporal punishment on your children, you certainly cannot kill them and get off scott-free, as this guy did. Oh, another forgot another fiasco, proffered by the now-phantom Premier, Dalton McGuinty, who actually....I kid you not....floated the idea of Sharia law for Ontario!!??!! So many people have no idea about the Canadian Constitution, the rule of law, habeus corpus, and the like.
The sick thing is that all his family crowded around and supported him, testifying to what a great and loving father he was. Please. This bum must have really slapped the girl hard -- apparently twice in the face -- because he ruptured her vertebral artery, causing her brain to swell and she to die. I did give my kids spanks now and then, but never in anger, never on the head and only for lying. I know it's out of fashion now, but I remember my own mother spanking me. Once. Never forgot it. There's a vast difference between "beating" and a little corrective spank, in my opinion. Funny thing was, it only had to happen once and the behaviour stopped.
Puts me in mind of that Muslim couple who killed their daughters and one of his wives by pushing their car into the Kingston locks. They too tried the to play the cultural card, but it didn't work. That case changed the "judicial attitude" into a hard-line position on such killings. The judge in that case obviously had smarts and conviction. Why it didn't apply to this murder is beyond the beyond.
Makes you wonder, what's next?
It is so outrageous I can barely type! The bottom line for both the ludicrous and incompetent judge and the defence lawyer were the "cultural differences" between Guineans and Canadians. Whaaaaat??!! Apparently, in Guinea you can slap your daughters with gay abandon -- even if the slap causes their death. But the judge (sorry, but I bet she was a woman) said the cultural differences between the two countries could not be discounted. By the way, no one beats or slaps boys.
Hey Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore! Justice is blind and cultural differences must be discounted -- unless, of course, you're a native Canadian and then 'Bob's your uncle'. But for the rest of us, this is Canada and not only can you not use unreasonable corporal punishment on your children, you certainly cannot kill them and get off scott-free, as this guy did. Oh, another forgot another fiasco, proffered by the now-phantom Premier, Dalton McGuinty, who actually....I kid you not....floated the idea of Sharia law for Ontario!!??!! So many people have no idea about the Canadian Constitution, the rule of law, habeus corpus, and the like.
The sick thing is that all his family crowded around and supported him, testifying to what a great and loving father he was. Please. This bum must have really slapped the girl hard -- apparently twice in the face -- because he ruptured her vertebral artery, causing her brain to swell and she to die. I did give my kids spanks now and then, but never in anger, never on the head and only for lying. I know it's out of fashion now, but I remember my own mother spanking me. Once. Never forgot it. There's a vast difference between "beating" and a little corrective spank, in my opinion. Funny thing was, it only had to happen once and the behaviour stopped.
Puts me in mind of that Muslim couple who killed their daughters and one of his wives by pushing their car into the Kingston locks. They too tried the to play the cultural card, but it didn't work. That case changed the "judicial attitude" into a hard-line position on such killings. The judge in that case obviously had smarts and conviction. Why it didn't apply to this murder is beyond the beyond.
Makes you wonder, what's next?
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
No Ordinary Beauty Contest
As a rule, I hate beauty contests. They're dumb, meaningless and demeaning. But the Stampede Queen is no ordinary beauty contestant. The winner actually has to "do something". In fact, she has to be a skilled horsewoman, which is very cool.
Started thinking about this when I read about a book that has just come out about the history of the Rodeo Queens and Princesses. The first Queen was chosen in 1946, sixty-odd years after Stampede began. Patsy Rodgers was her name and there have since been many extraordinary Queens and Princesses who have promoting Stampede far and wide all over the world. To qualify young women have to be:
Yep, Calgary is gearing up for the greatest outdoor party in the world!
Started thinking about this when I read about a book that has just come out about the history of the Rodeo Queens and Princesses. The first Queen was chosen in 1946, sixty-odd years after Stampede began. Patsy Rodgers was her name and there have since been many extraordinary Queens and Princesses who have promoting Stampede far and wide all over the world. To qualify young women have to be:
- Between ages 20 and 23
- Canadian citizens
- Resident in Alberta for the past 12 months
- Never married and no children
- Agree not to marry during the reign
- Agree to reside and work within a 64-mile radius of the Stampede grounds
- Have high school, or equivalent
- Possess a driver's licence and have access to a vehicle
- Have no criminal record, and
- Pass a riding competency test
Yep, Calgary is gearing up for the greatest outdoor party in the world!
Letter from Bermuda, final installment
Thank G-d I don't go to Mass in beachwear. The Sunday we were in Bermuda, we went to a local church (pictured above) and were treated to a lecture on proper dress for Mass. Looking around, there were a few red faces from both locals and tourists who were not suitably attired. But on the whole, most communicants were pretty well-dressed -- unlike here in Calgary where it's jeans, jeans and more jeans. When we had left the hotel I had asked the doorman about Sunday bus service so we could get back. "Don't worry about it," he replied. "Someone will drive you back." Really?? How was that going to work? But it did. Milling around in the parking lot, we were approached by a woman and her son. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" she asked. "Well, yes." Hop in. We did and had the pleasure of meeting a lovely woman and her son. Where did her son go to university? Queen's, same place as our youngest daughter. He also played rugby, as did she, and was absolutely charming. Can you imagine that happening anywhere else? Complete strangers driving you home after Mass. I was impressed.
"They have to import absolutely everything," I thought as I looked around anywhere we went. That means everything -- furniture, tableware, appliances, cosmetics, food, booze -- think about it. It's an immense challenge. Remember Bermuda onions? Used to be a crop export, but no longer. They're now produced in Mexico. Bermuda relies solely on tourism.
All I can say is, the Jet Stream better not budge an inch or the country is in big trouble. Will we return? Absolutely.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Dumb hockey
It's always about goaltending in the end. Bottom line. But it's also about turn-overs -- be they poor stick handling or icing. You can't win if you keep turning the puck over. And that's what Montreal is doing this evening.
Now they are down three-one. I fear defeat. The thing that appalls me (one of so many) is the crashing of the net. This was always verboten. You could not crash the net. You could not get in the crease. There were penalties to pay for that. Now, why bother painting the blue semi-circle in front of the goal? Players just jam the net and knock it off its pins with gay abandon. The only reason Carey Price is injured is because he was crashed. No goalie should ever be injured. Ever. Opponents should never get that close to the goalie to cause injury. Frankly, I don't get what's going on??
But some goalies have themselves to blame when they pull a "Jacques Plante" and skate half way down the rink and out of the crease. Then they are asking for it. But in the crease, no way should they be vulnerable.
I have to tell you, dear readers, that I dated several NHL players back in "the day". Won't tell you who, except for the late Brian Smith. He played for the Los Angeles Kings and hideously was murdered in Ottawa by a crazy crazy. We had so much fun. They had money and cars. The players I dated played golf all day while I worked from eight to four at a crappy summer job. Then we would hit the Hull bars until three! How in G-d's name did I do that?
Ah, to be young!
Now they are down three-one. I fear defeat. The thing that appalls me (one of so many) is the crashing of the net. This was always verboten. You could not crash the net. You could not get in the crease. There were penalties to pay for that. Now, why bother painting the blue semi-circle in front of the goal? Players just jam the net and knock it off its pins with gay abandon. The only reason Carey Price is injured is because he was crashed. No goalie should ever be injured. Ever. Opponents should never get that close to the goalie to cause injury. Frankly, I don't get what's going on??
But some goalies have themselves to blame when they pull a "Jacques Plante" and skate half way down the rink and out of the crease. Then they are asking for it. But in the crease, no way should they be vulnerable.
I have to tell you, dear readers, that I dated several NHL players back in "the day". Won't tell you who, except for the late Brian Smith. He played for the Los Angeles Kings and hideously was murdered in Ottawa by a crazy crazy. We had so much fun. They had money and cars. The players I dated played golf all day while I worked from eight to four at a crappy summer job. Then we would hit the Hull bars until three! How in G-d's name did I do that?
Ah, to be young!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Letter from Bermuda, part VI
"It's rare to meet an American working here," I said to the young beach attendant at our hotel. "I'm not American, I'm Bermudian," he replied. All of the staff were varying shades and hues of black, so he stood out like a sore thumb because he was as blonde and white as the driven snow.
Chatting with him I learned his family went back to the 1600s, when Bermuda was first colonized. In fact, his mother was a Trimingham -- of the famous family that owned the posh landmark store in Hamilton. "Yeah, the two brothers who inherited it ran it into the ground, unfortunately," he told me. "It's now a bank, gone." Sad that Trimingham's has poofed.
Turns out he had gone to Dalhousie University and loved Canada. "Well, we share the same head of state, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II," I added. "Do you know how many Canadians don't know that," he replied. "It's amazing, I had to tell many students that your Prime Minister was not the head of state." Not surprised in the least. It's a sad reality that Canadian kids have no clue about our Constitution. Man, his family must have closely guarded its gene pool for a young man to be so blonde and white after that many generations in Bermuda. Turns out his parents just moved to Vancouver. "They got tired of everyone knowing everything about everyone in every Parish 'cause that's what it's like in Bermuda," he told me.
The resident population of Bermuda is about 60,000, which seems a lot for an island that's only 21 miles long and 4 wide.
Sitting on the plane leaving the island, B and I were on either side of a middle-aged white gentleman. "Did you enjoy your vacation here?" I asked him. "I'm not a tourist, I'm a Bermudian," he replied. This really threw me -- the second native Bermudian I had met. Turns out he was a dentist with four kids and he talked my ear off -- hard to do with me because my tongue is usually the one wagging the hardest. Guess where he was going? Wait for it....on vacation to.......Haliburton! Here's a guy who lives in paradise, but goes to Northern Ontario two or three times a year to his cottage to be greeted by black flies and rain! How weird is that.
"No wonder your teeth are so dazzlingly white," I said. "I rinse with peroxide," he told me. Whaaaaaat?! I may try it because obviously it works. Funny, here's a dentist getting paid to do all kinds of fancy procedures to whiten people's teeth and the guy uses peroxide. One other tip? Never use toothpaste with an electric toothbrush. "You'll wear away your enamel." Who knew?!
"One in 10 of every species is homosexual," he said a-propos-of-nothing and completely out-of-the-blue. "And that includes fruit flies," he added. Now, there's a little-known fact I can bore future cocktail party-goers with. He then went on to tell me about several of his married friends with kids who were gay, which didn't surprise me in the least. "One kept asking me if I thought he was gay," he said. "Well, if you have to keep asking, then yes."
Yep, travel is broadening.
Chatting with him I learned his family went back to the 1600s, when Bermuda was first colonized. In fact, his mother was a Trimingham -- of the famous family that owned the posh landmark store in Hamilton. "Yeah, the two brothers who inherited it ran it into the ground, unfortunately," he told me. "It's now a bank, gone." Sad that Trimingham's has poofed.
Turns out he had gone to Dalhousie University and loved Canada. "Well, we share the same head of state, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II," I added. "Do you know how many Canadians don't know that," he replied. "It's amazing, I had to tell many students that your Prime Minister was not the head of state." Not surprised in the least. It's a sad reality that Canadian kids have no clue about our Constitution. Man, his family must have closely guarded its gene pool for a young man to be so blonde and white after that many generations in Bermuda. Turns out his parents just moved to Vancouver. "They got tired of everyone knowing everything about everyone in every Parish 'cause that's what it's like in Bermuda," he told me.
The resident population of Bermuda is about 60,000, which seems a lot for an island that's only 21 miles long and 4 wide.
Sitting on the plane leaving the island, B and I were on either side of a middle-aged white gentleman. "Did you enjoy your vacation here?" I asked him. "I'm not a tourist, I'm a Bermudian," he replied. This really threw me -- the second native Bermudian I had met. Turns out he was a dentist with four kids and he talked my ear off -- hard to do with me because my tongue is usually the one wagging the hardest. Guess where he was going? Wait for it....on vacation to.......Haliburton! Here's a guy who lives in paradise, but goes to Northern Ontario two or three times a year to his cottage to be greeted by black flies and rain! How weird is that.
"No wonder your teeth are so dazzlingly white," I said. "I rinse with peroxide," he told me. Whaaaaaat?! I may try it because obviously it works. Funny, here's a dentist getting paid to do all kinds of fancy procedures to whiten people's teeth and the guy uses peroxide. One other tip? Never use toothpaste with an electric toothbrush. "You'll wear away your enamel." Who knew?!
"One in 10 of every species is homosexual," he said a-propos-of-nothing and completely out-of-the-blue. "And that includes fruit flies," he added. Now, there's a little-known fact I can bore future cocktail party-goers with. He then went on to tell me about several of his married friends with kids who were gay, which didn't surprise me in the least. "One kept asking me if I thought he was gay," he said. "Well, if you have to keep asking, then yes."
Yep, travel is broadening.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Letter from Bermuda, part V
"This is it, this is really it," said the woman sitting at the table next to mine Sunday after B and I had gone to Mass. I was having a martini, while B was sunning himself by the pool. With three skin cancers, I no longer take any sun. Anyway, martinis are better.
I stood up, walked over and we started chatting. "Please join me," she invited. So I did. Thence began a two-hour conversation about....everything. Turns out she was a family law attorney in Las Vegas. Whoa! What a place to be a family law attorney! Ugliness personified, but she was charming. What she could not get over -- I guess comparing it to "The Strip" -- was the beauty and charm of Bermuda. The country is the absolute antithesis of Vegas.
I told her all about B's ugly divorce. Talking about many of her cases she said, "Some women are just narcissists." You betcha. Here's how Wikipedia describes narcissism:
"People diagnosed with a narcissistic personality disorder are characterized by exaggerated feelings of self-importance. They have a sense of entitlement and demonstrate grandiosity in their beliefs and behavior. They have a strong need for admiration, but lack feelings of empathy. Symptoms of this disorder, as defined by the DSM-IV-TR, include:
· Expects to be recognized as superior and special, without superior accomplishments
· Expects constant attention, admiration and positive reinforcement from others
· Envies others and believes others envy him/her
· Is preoccupied with fantasies of great success, enormous attractiveness, power, intelligence
· Lacks the ability to empathize with the feelings or desires of others
· Is arrogant in attitudes and behavior and has unrealistic expectations of special treatment
"Other symptoms in addition to the ones defined by DSM-IV-TR include: Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends, has trouble keeping healthy relationships with others, easily hurt or rejected, appears unemotional, and exaggerating special achievements and talents, setting unrealistic goals for himself/herself. Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by an over-inflated sense of self-importance, as well as dramatic, emotional behavior that is in the same category as antisocial and borderline personality disorders.
"Narcissists have such an elevated sense of self-worth that they value themselves as inherently better than others, when in reality they have a fragile self-esteem, cannot handle criticism, and often try to compensate for this inner fragility by belittling or disparaging others in an attempt to validate their own self-worth. Comments and criticisms about others are vicious from sufferers of NPD, in an attempt to boost their own poor self-esteem.
"Another narcissist symptom is a lack of empathy. They are unable to relate, understand, and rationalize the feelings of others. Instead of behaving in a way that shows how they are feeling in the moment, they behave in the way that they feel they are expected to behave or what gives them the most attention."
I stood up, walked over and we started chatting. "Please join me," she invited. So I did. Thence began a two-hour conversation about....everything. Turns out she was a family law attorney in Las Vegas. Whoa! What a place to be a family law attorney! Ugliness personified, but she was charming. What she could not get over -- I guess comparing it to "The Strip" -- was the beauty and charm of Bermuda. The country is the absolute antithesis of Vegas.
I told her all about B's ugly divorce. Talking about many of her cases she said, "Some women are just narcissists." You betcha. Here's how Wikipedia describes narcissism:
"People diagnosed with a narcissistic personality disorder are characterized by exaggerated feelings of self-importance. They have a sense of entitlement and demonstrate grandiosity in their beliefs and behavior. They have a strong need for admiration, but lack feelings of empathy. Symptoms of this disorder, as defined by the DSM-IV-TR, include:
· Expects to be recognized as superior and special, without superior accomplishments
· Expects constant attention, admiration and positive reinforcement from others
· Envies others and believes others envy him/her
· Is preoccupied with fantasies of great success, enormous attractiveness, power, intelligence
· Lacks the ability to empathize with the feelings or desires of others
· Is arrogant in attitudes and behavior and has unrealistic expectations of special treatment
"Other symptoms in addition to the ones defined by DSM-IV-TR include: Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends, has trouble keeping healthy relationships with others, easily hurt or rejected, appears unemotional, and exaggerating special achievements and talents, setting unrealistic goals for himself/herself. Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by an over-inflated sense of self-importance, as well as dramatic, emotional behavior that is in the same category as antisocial and borderline personality disorders.
"Narcissists have such an elevated sense of self-worth that they value themselves as inherently better than others, when in reality they have a fragile self-esteem, cannot handle criticism, and often try to compensate for this inner fragility by belittling or disparaging others in an attempt to validate their own self-worth. Comments and criticisms about others are vicious from sufferers of NPD, in an attempt to boost their own poor self-esteem.
"Another narcissist symptom is a lack of empathy. They are unable to relate, understand, and rationalize the feelings of others. Instead of behaving in a way that shows how they are feeling in the moment, they behave in the way that they feel they are expected to behave or what gives them the most attention."
Yeah, pretty much the case with the ex, to which anyone who's met her will attest.
This lawyer was entranced with Bermuda, as is everyone who visits. "Where are you from?" I had asked when we met. "Las Vegas, born and raised," she replied. I didn't think anyone was actually born in Las Vegas?! Here's the best part, remember the movie 'Casino'? Well, the Robert de Niro character was that of Lefty Rosenthal, the notorious mobster who lived there. She told me she was on the same swim team as his daughters, as was the daughter of the FBI agent who shadowed Rosenthal! She used to go to his house for play dates. "He was never without a body guard," she told me. "The only unauthentic part of the movie was when he went to his car and it blew up. That would never have happened," she explained. But the rest of the movie -- including the burying alive at the end -- all true.
Facinating.
This lawyer was entranced with Bermuda, as is everyone who visits. "Where are you from?" I had asked when we met. "Las Vegas, born and raised," she replied. I didn't think anyone was actually born in Las Vegas?! Here's the best part, remember the movie 'Casino'? Well, the Robert de Niro character was that of Lefty Rosenthal, the notorious mobster who lived there. She told me she was on the same swim team as his daughters, as was the daughter of the FBI agent who shadowed Rosenthal! She used to go to his house for play dates. "He was never without a body guard," she told me. "The only unauthentic part of the movie was when he went to his car and it blew up. That would never have happened," she explained. But the rest of the movie -- including the burying alive at the end -- all true.
Facinating.
Friday, May 16, 2014
A pile
Sorry, but it is. I have interrupted my Bermuda tales because I just listened to coverage of the RCMP report on missing aboriginal women. Eleven hundred and sixty one have gone missing since 1980. What the media doesn't mention is that 90% of the cases have been solved. In other words, there aren't 1,161 women missing in Canada.
Guess who killed these women? Their own relatives. And guess what state more than 60% were in when it happened? Intoxicated. But to hear it from the native leaders, you'd think each was killed by a white male. In all cases of murder, the police always start with the immediate family. Same deal with the natives. But one female leader interviewed said, "These statistics don't help me. I want to know the root causes of what happens to these women." Hey, look to your own leadership! Another interviewee added, "We need more culturally-relevant services available to these women." Hey, look to your own leadership!
Natives in Canada are given more than $8 billion every year -- not a penny of which are they accountable. Native leadership is being given a free pass on the plight of their own people, as they deftly and dishonestly point the finger at the rest of us. It's appalling.
As usual, I qualify to comment because my great-grandmother was a Mohawk. Yes, I am a few generations removed, but I am so grateful she moved off-reserve so her family could be "normal". I am so blessed to be "Canadian". It's too bad natives don't feel that way. The millions who desperately want to emigrate to Canada would beg to differ.
Guess who killed these women? Their own relatives. And guess what state more than 60% were in when it happened? Intoxicated. But to hear it from the native leaders, you'd think each was killed by a white male. In all cases of murder, the police always start with the immediate family. Same deal with the natives. But one female leader interviewed said, "These statistics don't help me. I want to know the root causes of what happens to these women." Hey, look to your own leadership! Another interviewee added, "We need more culturally-relevant services available to these women." Hey, look to your own leadership!
Natives in Canada are given more than $8 billion every year -- not a penny of which are they accountable. Native leadership is being given a free pass on the plight of their own people, as they deftly and dishonestly point the finger at the rest of us. It's appalling.
As usual, I qualify to comment because my great-grandmother was a Mohawk. Yes, I am a few generations removed, but I am so grateful she moved off-reserve so her family could be "normal". I am so blessed to be "Canadian". It's too bad natives don't feel that way. The millions who desperately want to emigrate to Canada would beg to differ.
Letter from Bermuda -- part IV
"Think I'll sit here," said the guy who slid into the captain's chair up front. We were taking the ferry from Southampton to Hamilton and the ferry is the best way to go. "Doesn't the captain sit there?" I said. But as we started to move, I saw that it was all being done with mirrors from below by the real captain.
His wife sat with us. Their names were......wait for it.........Ken and Barbie. You could not make that up. Guess what? They were the perfect couple. Both in their mid-to-late-forties, each was in incredible shape. Barbie was maybe a tad too thin, but Ken was picture perfect. "You two must work out pretty seriously," I stupidly asked rhetorically. They did. Turns out he was one of the sponsors of the American Family Law conference underway at our hotel; she was a stay-at-home (non) Mom -- both her kids now off to college. But her job had obviously been to stay in perfect shape because that's what Ken pays her for. Unlike many stay-at-homes who turn to fat and glob, Barbie was hanging in there and she sported the jewellery to prove it! I mean, if you're going to sit on your a--, you better justify it. Otherwise, I guarantee your husband will be fooling around.
I liked them both and we saw more of them in the days that followed. Living in Seattle, Ken was a keen Vancouver Canucks fan and told me a riotous story: "I was staying in a Vancouver hotel a couple of years ago," he said, "and the Canucks were playing badly. Got on the elevator with three other guys and started railing about Luongo and how badly he was playing. I mean, the guy's a sieve, I told them. I also said he was too old, past it, too hot and mostly cold....I really went to town on the guy.
"No one said a word to my rant, but when the elevator door opened, there was the entire team in the lobby. Guess who I was on the elevator with? Luongo and the Sedin brothers!" Man, something else you could not make up. The other story he told me was about Australia:
"I was in Sydney, giving the keynote address at a conference, and tried to make a joke about all the guests from a cruise ship wandering around with their blue-rinse hair and fanny packs. When I said 'fanny pack' the room went deadly quiet. I thought, that's weird? Anyway, finished the speech and some guy kindly told me that in Australia, 'fanny' is the word for the front of a woman's a-hem. So basically, I had just talked about women walking around the hotel with their a-hems in packs."
Yep, Bermuda was fun.
His wife sat with us. Their names were......wait for it.........Ken and Barbie. You could not make that up. Guess what? They were the perfect couple. Both in their mid-to-late-forties, each was in incredible shape. Barbie was maybe a tad too thin, but Ken was picture perfect. "You two must work out pretty seriously," I stupidly asked rhetorically. They did. Turns out he was one of the sponsors of the American Family Law conference underway at our hotel; she was a stay-at-home (non) Mom -- both her kids now off to college. But her job had obviously been to stay in perfect shape because that's what Ken pays her for. Unlike many stay-at-homes who turn to fat and glob, Barbie was hanging in there and she sported the jewellery to prove it! I mean, if you're going to sit on your a--, you better justify it. Otherwise, I guarantee your husband will be fooling around.
I liked them both and we saw more of them in the days that followed. Living in Seattle, Ken was a keen Vancouver Canucks fan and told me a riotous story: "I was staying in a Vancouver hotel a couple of years ago," he said, "and the Canucks were playing badly. Got on the elevator with three other guys and started railing about Luongo and how badly he was playing. I mean, the guy's a sieve, I told them. I also said he was too old, past it, too hot and mostly cold....I really went to town on the guy.
"No one said a word to my rant, but when the elevator door opened, there was the entire team in the lobby. Guess who I was on the elevator with? Luongo and the Sedin brothers!" Man, something else you could not make up. The other story he told me was about Australia:
"I was in Sydney, giving the keynote address at a conference, and tried to make a joke about all the guests from a cruise ship wandering around with their blue-rinse hair and fanny packs. When I said 'fanny pack' the room went deadly quiet. I thought, that's weird? Anyway, finished the speech and some guy kindly told me that in Australia, 'fanny' is the word for the front of a woman's a-hem. So basically, I had just talked about women walking around the hotel with their a-hems in packs."
Yep, Bermuda was fun.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Letter from Bermuda, part III -- OK, 51
This was his response when I said I was not 52. For some reason, the chap seated beside me at the hotel bar asked my age??!! Can't remember what led to this bizarre query, but, yes, I'll take 51! When I told him my real age, he was a tad incredulous, as was I when he told me he was 49; looked 38. The beautiful lobby bar is where many of us repaired after dinner to watch hockey and this guy had just flown in on his private Lear Jet for a meeting and leaving the next morning.
Must be nice. The airport was filled with private jets. Note to potential tourists: Don't visit Bermuda if you're looking for a deal. They don't exist. And thank G-d for that, otherwise the place would be swarming with boors.
"Don't really follow hockey," he said when I asked if he were rooting for Boston. "You know, of the original six, four were American," I reminded him. Which is weirdly true. But there were many diehard American hockey fans staying at the hotel and we all bonded because of it. Personally, I never watch hockey until the finals, when it actually gets interesting and when the players finally begin to step up and earn their money.
One evening, as we were having dinner, I spotted a lost three-year-old girl wandering around. "Where is my mummy?" she wailed. "Where is my mummy?" I went over just as the mother finally appeared looking for her (sort of). "I would not be losing sight of my toddler grandson, or he would be out the door," I said as I handed the baby over. A Bermudian native she replied, "Well, I know where you come from you would be scared, but this is Bermuda. Nothing will happen." Nicely thanking me for my concern, she presumed I was American, but even in Canada I would not let a toddler roam and drift around a lobby or restaurant. I didn't say it, but thought, "The problem is this lobby bar is filled with non-Bermudians." Jon Benet Ramsay comes to mind. But I was proud of myself for not retorting.
Sometimes I hold my tongue, but not too often.
Must be nice. The airport was filled with private jets. Note to potential tourists: Don't visit Bermuda if you're looking for a deal. They don't exist. And thank G-d for that, otherwise the place would be swarming with boors.
"Don't really follow hockey," he said when I asked if he were rooting for Boston. "You know, of the original six, four were American," I reminded him. Which is weirdly true. But there were many diehard American hockey fans staying at the hotel and we all bonded because of it. Personally, I never watch hockey until the finals, when it actually gets interesting and when the players finally begin to step up and earn their money.
One evening, as we were having dinner, I spotted a lost three-year-old girl wandering around. "Where is my mummy?" she wailed. "Where is my mummy?" I went over just as the mother finally appeared looking for her (sort of). "I would not be losing sight of my toddler grandson, or he would be out the door," I said as I handed the baby over. A Bermudian native she replied, "Well, I know where you come from you would be scared, but this is Bermuda. Nothing will happen." Nicely thanking me for my concern, she presumed I was American, but even in Canada I would not let a toddler roam and drift around a lobby or restaurant. I didn't say it, but thought, "The problem is this lobby bar is filled with non-Bermudians." Jon Benet Ramsay comes to mind. But I was proud of myself for not retorting.
Sometimes I hold my tongue, but not too often.
There's Bermuda..........
...........and then there's everywhere else. "This is it," said a woman I chatted with over cocktails. "This is it," she kept repeating, having difficulty finding words to describe Bermuda's beauty. (More about her in a future blog, fascinating.)
With no chain restaurants, no cheap chain hotels, no freeways, no Macdonald's, no Walmart, no Boston Pizza, no Burger King.........no nothing.............Bermuda is absolutely magnificent. You drive on the left-hand side of the road, as in England, the roads cascading with breathtaking hibiscus you can touch as you pass. The Bermudian government has made sure Bermuda remains "Bermuda". There is no poverty -- at least none visible -- no bums on the street, no beggars. Just lovely, handsome men and women going about their daily business, in spite of the tourists who mill and throng about and with whom they are unfailingly polite. And the men in their crisp Bermuda shorts, jackets, ties and Bermuda socks? You can't beat them.
With no chain restaurants, no cheap chain hotels, no freeways, no Macdonald's, no Walmart, no Boston Pizza, no Burger King.........no nothing.............Bermuda is absolutely magnificent. You drive on the left-hand side of the road, as in England, the roads cascading with breathtaking hibiscus you can touch as you pass. The Bermudian government has made sure Bermuda remains "Bermuda". There is no poverty -- at least none visible -- no bums on the street, no beggars. Just lovely, handsome men and women going about their daily business, in spite of the tourists who mill and throng about and with whom they are unfailingly polite. And the men in their crisp Bermuda shorts, jackets, ties and Bermuda socks? You can't beat them.
A gorgeous Bermuda home, now an inn.
The private beach at our hotel.
Sunset from our room.
Last dinner before we had to depart.
Because it remains a British Protectorate, Bermuda has not gone the way of so many Caribbean islands: Ugly. The Queen's picture is everywhere and things are simply pukka-pukka. Because it has no lakes or rivers, Bermudians rely on the construction of their roofs to collect rain water, which is stored in tanks in the basements of their houses. All garbage is burned and sewage collected and pumped. Much of the "grey" water, i.e., everything but sewage, is saved and used to water golf courses and the like. It was all environmentally sound before "environmentally sound" existed.
Once you've been to Bermuda, you'll never go anywhere else.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Letter from Bermuda -- Part I
Well, I have been off-line for quite a while. Bermuda was the reason. But lots of blog material to share!
"What do you do?" I asked the handsome, charming young man sitting next to me at the bar of the Fairmont Southampton Hotel. "I am a lawyer." There was an American Family Law Society conference underway; this guy specialized in "reproductive" law.........whatever that is, I wondered? Apparently, it's dealing with the legalities surrounding surrogates, invitro, adoption....and all that stuff. Asking from whence he hailed, I learned it was Boston. So there we were. Watching the Habs and the Bruins duke it out. On opposite sides of the stands, but kindred hockey fans. We actually had to protest a fair bit to get the bartender to move the dial from basketball or the NFL draft. "Who watches the draft?" he exclaimed. Yeah, right, who? Apparently lots of people.
"I thought you looked like they do," I said when he told me he was related to Rose Fitzgerald's father, Honey Fitz. Seriously. The guy was a cousin of the Kennedy's via the Fitzgerald's and he had the accent to prove it. A real American "royalty" type. While he was there, B and I and his (gorgeous) wife hung out together. It was so much fun.
Younger than several of my kids, he nonetheless found us fairly interesting company. We enjoyed each other's banter. Talking about the differences between Americans and Canadians, I learned he actually knew quite a bit about Canada -- unlike most (ignorant) Americans. When one travels, one meets a lot of Americans. Now and then you meet the creme-de-la-creme.
Much more to come.
"What do you do?" I asked the handsome, charming young man sitting next to me at the bar of the Fairmont Southampton Hotel. "I am a lawyer." There was an American Family Law Society conference underway; this guy specialized in "reproductive" law.........whatever that is, I wondered? Apparently, it's dealing with the legalities surrounding surrogates, invitro, adoption....and all that stuff. Asking from whence he hailed, I learned it was Boston. So there we were. Watching the Habs and the Bruins duke it out. On opposite sides of the stands, but kindred hockey fans. We actually had to protest a fair bit to get the bartender to move the dial from basketball or the NFL draft. "Who watches the draft?" he exclaimed. Yeah, right, who? Apparently lots of people.
"I thought you looked like they do," I said when he told me he was related to Rose Fitzgerald's father, Honey Fitz. Seriously. The guy was a cousin of the Kennedy's via the Fitzgerald's and he had the accent to prove it. A real American "royalty" type. While he was there, B and I and his (gorgeous) wife hung out together. It was so much fun.
Younger than several of my kids, he nonetheless found us fairly interesting company. We enjoyed each other's banter. Talking about the differences between Americans and Canadians, I learned he actually knew quite a bit about Canada -- unlike most (ignorant) Americans. When one travels, one meets a lot of Americans. Now and then you meet the creme-de-la-creme.
Much more to come.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Gone
A voice of reason, Shawn Atleo, has resigned. Isn't that typical. The former Grand Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, Atleo was well-educated and earnest. But he ran afoul of the rest of the Indian rabble who just oppose everything and anything. What did him in was his support for the Federal government's offer of $1.9 billion for on-reserve education.
Yep, predictably the natives rejected the offer. Why? 'Cause they said they objected to the "nanny state" approach to funding education. Hello! Every kid who has ever gone through any public educational system has lived within a "nanny state". It's called...state-funded education! Our parents didn't write the curriculum, the province did. And while we're at it, every native in this country is funded and not taxed. Another "nanny state" reality.
It's very sad that a young, articulate leader such as Atleo has to resign because he actually believes in education. By the way, how are the natives handling their own education? Not well. Fewer than 40 percent graduate from basic high school........or is it fewer than that?
Now, instead of dealing with one government to get the $$$$$$$$, the natives will have to deal with 13. Good luck with that. Dumb.
Yep, predictably the natives rejected the offer. Why? 'Cause they said they objected to the "nanny state" approach to funding education. Hello! Every kid who has ever gone through any public educational system has lived within a "nanny state". It's called...state-funded education! Our parents didn't write the curriculum, the province did. And while we're at it, every native in this country is funded and not taxed. Another "nanny state" reality.
It's very sad that a young, articulate leader such as Atleo has to resign because he actually believes in education. By the way, how are the natives handling their own education? Not well. Fewer than 40 percent graduate from basic high school........or is it fewer than that?
Now, instead of dealing with one government to get the $$$$$$$$, the natives will have to deal with 13. Good luck with that. Dumb.
Friday, May 2, 2014
$12
I paid $12 at a flea market in Almonte, Ontario, for mine. Today I saw a very similar pair in The Globe and Mail -- except they were an Oscar de la Renta version -- for $365. Why do women do it to themselves? Why don't they exercise a little imagination and shop smart? 'Cause they don't.
Had a great birthday yesterday! Heard from all my kids, except my step-daughter. Her father was disappointed, but I was not surprised. (The apple doesn't fall far from the maternal tree.) But hey, three out of four ain't bad! Stepson even posted his card 'special two-day delivery' to make sure it arrived. Had a wonderful dinner at daughter and son-in-law's in Cochrane, with grandchildren and in-laws. Weather cooperated and she made the only dessert I will eat (rarely), cheesecake. It was to die for. B cracked open a bottle of Mumm's, so it was a proper celebration. I have a gratitude list a mile long!
Had a great birthday yesterday! Heard from all my kids, except my step-daughter. Her father was disappointed, but I was not surprised. (The apple doesn't fall far from the maternal tree.) But hey, three out of four ain't bad! Stepson even posted his card 'special two-day delivery' to make sure it arrived. Had a wonderful dinner at daughter and son-in-law's in Cochrane, with grandchildren and in-laws. Weather cooperated and she made the only dessert I will eat (rarely), cheesecake. It was to die for. B cracked open a bottle of Mumm's, so it was a proper celebration. I have a gratitude list a mile long!
 |
| My $12 variety, top, the $365 version here.
|
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)