Cowboys are alive and well in Cochrane

"Merry Christmas," said a handsome, middle-aged cowboy as he strode into a small Cochrane restaurant the other day today sporting his hat and jaunty neckerchief.  He was sending everyone of us a Christmas greeting and was about as charming as cowboys usually are.  Yes, there are still real cowboys in Alberta, just not in Calgary or Edmonton; the latter are extremely ethnic.   

An 18-minute drive northwest of Calgary, Cochrane is a town we visit often because two of our grandchildren are there.  We go to the Cochrane rodeo because the same Stampede cowboys perform, but on a much smaller and less expensive scale.  It's actually accessible, whereas The Stampede is prohibitively expensive and impossible to get to with one's sanity in tact.

Nevertheless, I bemoan the dress code here.  I continue to be an Eastern woman, with jackets, earrings and shoes to match.  A few days ago, we attended a lovely Christmas gathering where the attire was....jeans.  Oh, and socks and a few hideous Christmas sweaters.  Ugh.  But hey, it's Christmas and it's all about joy, love and giving.  Merry, merry.            

He was 29

Just learned that Allan Thicke died from a ruptured aorta, same as what killed John Ritter in 2003.  My husband, "B", suffered an aorta rupture while playing tennis at the inn at Chaffey's Locks when he was 29.  Were it not for a farmer, who threw him into the back of his pickup and carted him to a Kingston hospital, he would most certainly have died.

I wasn't married to him at the time; he was married to the mother of his children who, by the way would not exist had he died.  She was in Winnipeg visiting a "friend" and simply asked to be informed were he to die.  Really?  How sweet.  Anyway, I think what saved him was when a priest was summoned to administer Last Rites.  B, after losing most of his blood, told the priest to eff off.  That anger and the realization he was about to die brought him around.  To this day, he recalls being outside his body, looking down at the nurses and doctors working on him.  Yes, there is a white light. 

The only doctor who could save him was scheduled to operate on a 75-year-old woman, but chose to save B instead and had to allow the older woman to die.  What a hero and to him I am eternally thankful.  Forty-seven years later he is alive and well.  We are grateful.        

John Doyle's Top 10

I love Globe and Mail television columnist John Doyle's top 10 annoying people of the year.  I always agree with him.  Here they are:

1.  Kevin O'Leary.  I definitely agree.  O'Leary is a loud-mouthed rich guy who thinks he's Trump.  I think the guy made his fortune selling something to a toy company, not exactly a leading-edge scientific discovery.  A complete bore.

2.  Justin Trudeau.  Doyle had him ranked eighth, but I've got him at two.  "The Minister of Gibberish" is what Doyle calls him because that's all he ever spouts.  He lives on talking points made up by the totally out-of-touch Gerald Butts.  Butts, after all, is the guy who advised Dalton McGinty right into oblivion.  Nice work there, Gerry.  Even Liberal back benchers are increasingly embarrassed by the hapless and dense Trudeau. 

3.  Peter Mansbridge.  To me, he's tied for first with O'Leary with his sanctimonious blather.  He has rendered himself completely redundant and obsolete by sticking to the same tired formula when reading the news -- news that he pulls off some newswire or other while he's getting his hair coiffed.  Any guy who says, "I'm Peter Mansbridge and this is The National" in that order has a big problem setting priorities.  He finally announced his retirement, too bad it's a year off!  He wants coverage of Canada's 150th to be his last broadcast.  Way to eff it up Peter!

4.  Wendy Mesley.  God spare us from Little Miss Priss!  Now here's someone who has no idea what she is reading?!  Just rolls along with whatever piece of paper is in front of her, grinning through tragedy after tragedy.  As Doyle says, it's all 'Harry Potter' to her.

5.  Kellie Leitch.  I'm with ya on that one, John.  As much as the CBC often inspires Canadians to pound the remote, Canada needs the CBC -- an organization Leitch wants to abolish.  Without the CBC, Canada would be just like the US.  "Blah blah -- the elites -- blah blah," writes Doyle.  She is one of the most elite elites I can think of, rich surgeon and academic that she is.  "More fake than the most fake news story imaginable," says Doyle.

Doyle has five others, but I never watch them so have no opinion.  I know he is talking about Canadians, but I have a few others that rank right up there:

Michelle Obama/Hilary Clinton
Oprah
Barack Obama
Perry Bellegarde (right up there!)
Kathleen Wynn
Christie Cream (Clark)
Gregor Robertson OMG!
Naheed Nenshi OMG x 100!
Rachel Notley
Jodie Wilson-Raybold
Jane Philpott
Maryam Monsef
Christian Wolff (the annoying "old-woman" director of the Calgary Crowfoot Y)
Martha Stewart
Rachel Ray
Everyone on CNN
Ellen Degenerate
All the predictable dolts on CBC's "At Issue"
Everyone on every cooking show and competition
All the Bachelor(ette) shows
George Stroumboulopolous
Valerie Fortney (Calgary Herald columnist who needs a hair cut)
............I could go on. 

Merry Merry.

I don't get it?!

I must say that a hundred times a day, as events unfold around me.  But an article in The Calgary Herald today really stimulated the "logic" button in my brain because it actually made sense in a season that has become increasingly illogical.  Entitled "Everyone can embrace Christmas, regardless of their (sic) religion", it was written by a Muslim, Mansoor Ladha, a Calgary author.  If that's true, if Christmas does evoke feelings of love and peace, why can't we call it "Christmas"? 

The sticking point is that everyone agrees with that sentiment, yet we cannot call Christmas "Christmas".  How does that work?  Everyone celebrates Christmas, but refuses to call it what it is.  Don't get me wrong, I whole-heartedly applaud the celebration of Christmas -- I even sport a lapel button which says, "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" -- but why oh why can we not call it Christmas?  Last time I checked, December 25th was actaully Christmas Day.  Why is that so offensive?  If you're not a Christian great, but please let those of us who are have one lousy day. 

"As new Canadians, we are trying to adjust and adapt to our new environment and traditions.  We have a lot to learn and some new Canadians have to forget the practices so common in their former homelands and adapt to the Canadian way of life," Ladha writes.  I would certainly agree.  I mean, let's not stone women to death in the public thoroughfare or kill them if they expose a millimetre of skin.

"It would be appropriate to send a message of goodwill and make a wish this Christmas that Canadians of all religions should live in peach and harmony, while practising their different faiths," he continues. 

Christianity is a religion of peace.  Let's embrace December 25th for once as Christmas.     

The facts

As sad as the tragic deaths on the Oneida Reserve are, the cause was not inadequate housing funding.  Although no investigation has been done, the chief is already blaming the federal government.  As usual it's not enough money.

That's complete BS.  Maybe it was smoking?  Maybe it was drinking?  Who knows?  All I know from a few google searches is that there is no need to apply for housing funding.  INAC determines what it will be and it amounts to $146 million per year -- over and above the $17 billion handed out annually to 1.2 million natives.  As the great-granddaughter of a Mohawk, whose reserve was the Tyendinaga, Oneida was part of the same Iroquois nation.  I also discovered that in 1992, the Oneida opted out of the housing funding agreement with the federal government for another arrangement through the First Nations Confederacy of Cultural Education Centres. 

For them now to turn around and slam INAC is outrageous.  But the problem remains:  journalists do no research and never, ever, ever report the numbers.  I am not a native because my great-grandmother married off-reserve (thank God), but I wish card-carrying natives would speak up.  Because the Oneida purchased their lands outright, the government does not follow all sections of the Indian Act with regards to the Oneida settlement, to the band's peril because it is now in charge of its money. 

The community holds its own elections for self-government under the Indian Act, however participation is below 40%.

That's the problem.  The tragic fire was not the federal government's fault.  It was the fault of the community.  But I am sure Minister Bennett and Trudeau will continue to take the fall while the cynical Perry Bellegarde laughs up his sleeve.   

Have a very Merry Muslim Christmas!

That's what I wished the young lady who cut my hair this morning as I left.  She is a Muslim, but celebrates Christmas with gusto.  "Everyone loves Christmas," she said.  "In our family nine of us have birthdays in December, so we go all out."

I suddenly felt ridiculous for thinking the three in my family in December were a chore.  This young lady was born in, and emigrated from, Afghanistan and knows a thing or two about how women are treated there.  Very badly.  "Before we left, I had to hide in my house because I refused to cover myself when I went out.  So, I just didn't go anywhere.  I was a prisoner.  This was when the Taliban was in charge and the one time I ventured out, I had to wear the full burka and I was tripping over my feet and sweating, blind and it felt like I had bugs in my hair.  It was so terrible and I only had to walk a couple of blocks to my aunt's house," she added.

She also told me that she refused to cover herself in any way after puberty and that her family supported her.  "Everyone knows I will not do that and I will stick to my principles," she added.  I told her I was proud of her stand.  "These are dirty men who want to cover women.  Dirty," she volunteered.  I agreed.  "The minute I crossed the border to start the journey to come to Canada I tore off the burka and threw it in a heap into the river.  I was free of that intolerance."

She also agree with me that young women wearing the hijab, yet covered in thick makeup with nails painted, was completely ridiculous.  "It's not logical," she said.  "It's stupid."  Bravely, she told some members of the Taliban that in Canada, we can go to a mosque, we can worship freely.  Why, she asked them, can that not happen here?  They simply told her that Christians should not be free to worship in Afghanistan.  "That's the uneducated in that country, that's how they think."

Christians are routinely persecuted worldwide, just as Christ was.     

        

Really?

"A lot of kids have issues these days," said a young mother I met at a gathering yesterday.  "What the eff are issues?" I thought to myself.  How can little affluent kids have "issues"?  "Oh, it's quite the thing," she explained. 

Apparently, the latest parental fad is having a kid with "issues".  I guess this renders the parent "special" and affords them more power and authority.  She went on to explain that her stepdaughter suffered from anxiety.  Whaaat?!  The kid's 10.  Apparently, this girl has to be taken by hand up the stairs and sat with 'til she falls asleep.  In the morning, she has to be hand-held down again.  "Is she afraid there are boogeymen under the bed?" I laughed inappropriately.  "Something like that," she replied. 

How ridiculous.  It's a given that we all knew for certain there were boogeymen in the closet and under the bed, but we got over it without our parents sending us for counselling, for Gawd's sake.  And the schools actually have.....wait for it......therapists to deal with this joke of a charade.  Well, at least someone's making money. 

Read something in the newspaper the other day that drove this insanity home with a pile driver.  Apparently, some male teacher at a snooty private girls' school used the word "abortion" in logical context, which caused two girls to flee the class and run to the office.  They told the principal.....wait for it.....brace yourself.....they had felt "threatened" by the word.  The stupid principal actually called in a support team -- A SUPPORT TEAM -- to guide these brats into a "safe" environment.  And what was the outcome of this savage episode?  You guessed it, the teacher, who had been there 11 years, was summarily fired.   

People have gone insane.       

Not wishing to speak ill of the dead....

.....I will tell you what I think of Gord Downie's hysterical appearance at a native conference in Ottawa yesterday while the man is still alive. 

I thought it was disgraceful.  It was one of the most hubris-filled spectacles I have ever witnessed, replete with Gord sobbing and natives bestowing all measure of hats, ceremonial blankets and sacred feathers upon this self-centred rock star.  It was unctuous, grovelling, ingratiating and smug.  I know I will be vilified by the hoards of fans of the Great God Gord, but seriously.  The guy has no clue of what he bewails.  Apparently, he will now devote the rest of his life to righting the wrongs of residential schools.  He and hundreds of others.   

Please.

He needs to do his homework on the finances.  In addition to the regular $8.5 billion given 1.2 million natives every year, the hapless and randomly-educated Trudeau has promised another $8.5 billion, making the annual total $17 billion.  That's 17 hundred million dollars.  That's not a hundred million.  It's 17 hundred million!  My calculator won't even give me that broken down per native, so it must be incalculable.

As a former journalist, who was rapped on the knuckles by my diligent editors if I did not check facts and numbers religiously, I decry today's lazy bunch who can't get the figures right even when they have the google we didn't. 

Gord's net worth is $4 million.  How much of that do you think he will pour into his cause?  Yeah, I thought so.

This is what I mean

Trudeau waiting to bestow more money

 

  

    

Serendipity

Serendipity had me seated at a table with three card-carrying natives last evening at a dinner.  Boy, weren't we all in for a few surprises!  Twenty-two, 21 and 17, these young men were absolutely clueless about what it means to be a native, but they all whipped out their status cards in a show of bravado.  Depressing. 

Members of the 1,100-member Cape Mudge Reserve on Vancouver Island, these young men told me their father was the chief.  He's not.  Google anyone?  They did not know they were members of the We Kai Kai Nation.  They also did not know they did not own the land on which their reserve stands.  They had no idea what Crown Land was?  Their band sits on it.  They had no idea Canadian taxpayers fork out $17 billion every year for the keep of 1.2 million natives.  Their ignorance is a deliberate tactic by their own leadership to keep them in the dark waving placards.  They are the next to be manning the pipeline barricades with no idea of what they are protesting. 

What do they do all day living in Calgary?  "We play video games," said one.  "Are you not in school?" I asked.  "Yeah, I finished grade 12, but I'm not working."  Their mother chimed in and asserted they were..."certainly not ready to live on their own".    Ha, ha, ha, they all laughed.

So, there you have it.  Todays native warriors.  With my own Mohawk ancestry, all I could think was but for the Grace of God.............. 

 

Hundreds of thousands of dollars

That's what a BC interior chief says his band spent on lawyers (Canadian taxpayers paid for it) fighting with Kinder Morgan over the proposed pipeline, now approved by Trudeau.  "In 2007 we hired lawyers and started fighting with Kinder Morgan lawyers, just trying to establish who had jurisdiction over the land," said this chief (can't remember his name or band, but never mind).  "We finally discovered five years later in 2012 that we didn't own the land, it was Crown land."

OMG!  Did that guy get ripped off!  Either the chief can't read, misplaced his copy of the Indian Act, or doesn't have google.  A two-second search tells you right up front who owns the land:  The Crown, i.e., Canada.  It is then allocated to native bands for use, but they don't own it and they can't legally stop pipelines. 

"It's a big misconception natives have about reserve land," he went on to point out.  "Many think they own the land, but they don't."  And a big shout-out to the thieving lawyers who robbed them blind for five years.  Eventually, the native leaders themselves sat down directly with Kinder Morgan and negotiated a joint agreement by which they worked in partnership with the oil company to sort out the environmental and economic issues facing them to the peaceful satisfaction of all. 

"After that, when we presented it to our members, it passed unanimously and we're all very happy with it."  Bravo to this guy, but it won't change or stop one Standing Rock-style protest in the least.  Remember Oka?  Remember Ipperwash?  Get ready for chaos and bloodshed -- aided and abetted you can be sure by phalanxes of pricy lawyers and hysterical enviros.  In fact, turn on your TV, it's already started.

Yesterday, during a speech to oil executives, the environment minister said he would call out the army if necessary to move pipeline protesters.  For that remark he was almost lynched and had to climb down from the tree they had him hitched up to.  That's unfortunate because he will need the army to get a pipeline through tree-hugging BC.

I agree with Rona Ambrose.  Trudeau cynically approved a pipeline he knows will never be built.  And we'll all be the worse for it.          

Empty your gas cans

Now that we finally and at long last have a couple of pipelines approved, all the opponents are predictably up-in-arms.  All I can say to the enviros, natives and others with their heads in the sand is don't you dare use gasoline again.  Walk or row, but never again get in a car, a plane, an ATV, a snowmobile, a ferry or a train.  Stick to your guns and put your money where your mouths are.  And by the way, stop wearing clothing produced by means of petroleum products -- you know, all that Roots stuff.

But of course they won't.

And there was the hypocritical Trudeau, instructing the supposedly independent National Energy Board to immediately reject the Northern Gateway pipeline, while out of the other side of his mouth praising the neutered organization for all the work they did to prove to him the other pipelines were just fine.

What the h-ll is the purpose of the NEB if the government can tell it what to approve and what to reject?  Seriously.  Note to chair and CEO Peter Watson:  Hey buddy, resign.      

Last time I checked............

.........December 25th was Christmas Day.  Not "Season" Day or "Holiday" Day.  No, Christmas Day. 

That is why I proudly sport my "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" button.  A number of people have stopped to read it; some love it, others turn away.  To the latter I say, "Bah Humbug."  Get over yourselves.  For some reason, Christians have been shoved into a corner of shame for celebrating the birth of Christ?!  Can you imagine if we all started being offended by Yom Kippur or Ramadan or Chinese New Year?!  Feature it, just feature it!  I may try it because taking offense at all other celebrations would be logically in keeping with every a--hole offended by Christmas.

If you're affronted by a celebration of love, peace and joy, you're in deep do-do. 

Merry Christmas!   

Christmas fashion for the duped

I see it when I wander into shops such as Tiffany's here in Calgary.  Certain cultures simply MUST have something from Tiffany's -- regardless of the price tag.  It's ludicrous because in most cases you need a magnifying glass to see the paltry stone.  And the prices on these items!  Scandalous. I am thinking, for example, of the Japanese and newly-minted Eastern European cultures when it comes to status symbols such as watches, jewellery, clothes and cars.  I think it's just dumb. 

Flipping through the Globe and Mail today, I saw a full-page ad for a Chanel diamond necklace.  Modeled by the hyper-expensive Keira Knightly, it was absolutely nothing to write home about, but probably more expensive than your average BMW.  The ad neglected to mention price -- probably upwards of $30,000 -- because as the old saw goes, "If you have to ask, you can't afford it."

Two years ago, while schlepping through Shopper's, I happened upon their new line of jewellery and bought a rhinestone necklace for about $100.  In fact, most of the jewellery I wear is costume, by means of which I think you get a far bigger bang for the buck.  I feel sorry for women who wear nothing but little, teensy pendants and studs because their cheezy husbands bought them under duress for an anniversary, or something -- husbands upon whom they have doted for decades.  Forget that, ladies.  Grab something with a little pizzaz! 


Here's what I mean about getting ripped off:

 

The Chanel variety



 

The Shopper's version

 

You be the judge.



 



   

Somebody needs to be fired or jailed

How an innocent four-year-old in foster care can die of abuse and neglect is beyond the beyond.  The Alberta government forks out $734 million for foster care and yet there were no resources to save a little native child, who was beaten, sexually assaulted and starved by the people with whom she was placed. 

Sadly, she was part of the "kinship program" that strives to keep native children with their relatives.  Only this time, the whole thing blew up and was shoved under the carpet, with neither blame nor responsibility accepted by anyone anywhere, in any government department or agency. 

All this happened more than two years ago and only came to light thanks to digging by a Calgary Herald reporter.  In fact, even the girl's name had been changed to obscure the trail.  As unreal as it sounds, little Serenity was essentially murdered while in kinship care, being looked after by family members.

Medical reports finally obtained show the severely underweight and malnourished Serenity was suffering hypothermia and had multiple bruises, including around the genitals and a missing hymen, when she was finally brought to hospital.  "She fell off a swing," was what the woman who took her in claimed. 

OMG!

Justice Minister Kathleen Ganley said she was willing to look at better safeguards for kinship care, but that "it must be balanced with concerns from indigenous communities about children going to outside families."  I guess she means even if it kills them.  There have been many such cases in Alberta, but I haven't written about them for fear of being accused of singling out natives.  The bigger question is, what the h-ll was provincial Child and Youth Advocate Del Graff doing?  He wrote his own dismal performance appraisal by saying "more thorough home assessments in kinship care, mandatory orientation training for caregivers and better appraisals of risks to the child's well-being are required." 

"There are other people who actually did the terrible things to the little girl," wrote Herald columnist Don Braid in his column today.  "They should be in jail."  But guess what?  The justice minister has yet to lay charges. 

Sickening.  Rest in Peace, Serenity.

 

Same thing

Many francophones I know are up-in-arms about Trump and his Mexican wall.  The truth of the matter is that Quebec's separatist movement adheres to exactly the same concept.  Since forever, Quebeckers have had a significant nationalist populace -- a populace that wants to separate from the rest of Canada.  Now shrinking because of immigration, it nevertheless remains a vocal and active political and ethnic force in that province. 

My question is, how is the desire to block out the rest of Canada any different from Trump's wall?  It isn't.  Separatists believe that if one is not of "pur laine" French heritage, one is not a valid "Quebecker".  Sounds suspiciously like the Trump-ites who want to cleave the Mexicans from their country. 

Don't get me wrong, I have a problem with illegal immigration, both in Canada and the US, but for francophones to self-righteously decry the wall is hypocritically disingenuous.         

Really?!

Here's the latest:  Those dipping in at one Mississauga Muslim food bank are complaining about the selection.  Seriously?  Seriously. 

Predominately from Syria, those "shopping" at that bank are turning up their noses at "Canadian" food and demanding things like chickpeas, lentils and halal items.  "These people are new to this country.  At least with food, they want to eat something they're familiar with," said Najam Syed, head of the bank.

Didn't food banks used to pack boxes with staples and give them to the needy as they deemed fit with what had been donated?  They did, but now it's boutique service at the average bank.  You could not make this up and by the way, it could only happen in Canada. 

Last time I was in a local grocery store, I noticed there are a number of aisles filled with ethic food for purchase.  In fact, I was hard-pressed to find a can of mushroom soup.  Oh, I guess these are being re-routed to food banks where they languish snubbed.  This is ridiculous.  Why not load up at the food bank and then spend a little of your own money -- generously donated by ordinary Canadians -- in an actual store on the special things you can't live without. 

Food Banks Canada supports a network of more than 500 across the country -- not counting the private banks in churches and local communities.  "We can ask for rice and lentils until we're blue in the face," said Jon Davey, manager of distribution, "but pasta, soup and snacks are things that are constantly being donated and our 'clients' don't want them."  Really?  So, donors such as Campbell's, General Mills, PepsiCo are being turned away.  If so, I trust halal butchers and local grocerterias are stepping up to fill the gap.  Oh, but wait, they're not because the banks still lack the desired items.      

Davey also said he regularly refuses large quantities of food he considers "unhealthy" -- things I sometimes give my grandchildren, such as Kraft Dinner and Scooby Doo noodles.  No wonder food banks are being criticized for being too picky.  "People who come to food banks want to eat more healthy(sic)," he added.  Really?  Again, pop into the nearest grocery store and grab some lettuce, for Gawd's sake. 

My other question is, can non-Muslims use the Muslim food banks?  Don't even want to know the answer to that one.  And don't label me "racist".  We're all the same race, the human race.  It's culture that's at issue here.

The demographics of the event

Watching coverage of Remembrance Day services on both the 'Mother Corp' and CTV, I noticed something disturbing:  ninety-five percent of Canadians in the crowds were not people-of-colour.  They were overwhelmingly white. 

That bothers me. 

Why is that?  Because it is so "un-Canadian".  And by the way, watched the BBC news a little while ago and the announcer (a BBC announcer, for Gawd's sake) was wearing her poppy on the wrong side of her lapel.  It has to be worn on the left, over the heart; she wore hers on the right so as not to interfere with her famous hairdo.  Sadly, she happened to be a young woman of colour.  See what I mean?  And don't dare label me "racist".  It's cultural and many immigrants have either clung to theirs, or haven't adopted even a little of the Canadian variety

The other Sunday, I listened as our parish priest said about the recent election in the Philippines, "Our country has just elected a new president."  Really?  "Our country?"  Last time I checked "our country" was Canada and we do not have a "president".  I almost stood up and said something, but coward that I can be at times, didn't.  However, I did send an email to Bishop Fred Henry about it and received a curt and dismissive reply.  He basically told me to get over myself and not worry about "slips of the tongue".  That, my friends, was no mere slip of the tongue.  It bespoke the wrong attitude entirely. 

Well, we have actually left that parish -- not that anyone cares.  And I guess now I know why the crowds honouring Remembrance Day were primarily Caucasian. 

Sad commentary on how Canada has let itself unravel. 



     

Calling it

A woman I am acquainted with was featured in a Calgary Herald piece the other day, weeping "in shock and disbelief" over Hilary Clinton's defeat.  A "professor emeritus of social work" at the University of Alberta, this woman often expounds at our local tennis club on the many joys and delights of feminism -- all from her limited perspective, much of it malarkey.  When I read the piece, I could not resist writing the following letter to the editor; it was published today, marking the 63rd since we moved here five years ago:

Male chauvinists abound
 Re: “‘People are shocked, in disbelief’,” Valerie Fortney, Opinion, Nov. 10.

Dear Editor,
I can’t think of another environment more politically-correct and cocooned than the average university faculty of social work. This is perhaps why people such as Mary Valentich were “shocked” by Hillary Clinton’s defeat and Donald Trump’s triumph.  

In the real world, male chauvinists are alive, well and thriving – be they in the closet or out. Alberta is no exception.    

Nancy Marley-Clarke, Calgary

_______________________________________

Guess Ms. Valentich will no longer be educating me on the club patio.

 

The sky just fell

Well, in this case chicken little was right; the sky did just fall.  Everyone has their theories, but I think there are a few obvious reasons -- and you won't hear these ugly thoughts on the Mother Corp or CNN.  Firstly, it was folly to have Obama stump for Hilary.  He won two terms only because blacks actually voted in far larger numbers than ever.  He didn't win because people liked him, or thought he was doing a good job -- although many did.  No, he won because blacks showed up and voted en masse for him regardless of what he said or did.  Let's face it, he was a pretty unremarkable president. 

There was no love lost between Hilary and Michelle, everyone knew that, so to have her on the campaign trail was completely disingenuous and phony -- something people thought about Hilary in the first place.  And then there were the never-ending concerts by black rock stars.  No one wanted to see Stevie Wonder and Beyoncé.  So unserious.  Let's face it, the folks who voted for Trump are about as racist as you can find anywhere -- either secretly or publically, and we all know a few of the former.  Never forget, folks, the civil war still rages in the Excited States of America.  In fact, just heard someone on the airwaves call the Trump victory "whitelash".  Pretty much. 

So, in the end nothing mattered.  Not the debates, not who said what, not the slurs, not the questionable emails, not the attacks on women -- not even his ridiculous hair.  No.  People were sick of the Clintons and voted with their guts, not their brains.  Just like Brexit, it was all about getting back to what the silent, unemployed, white majority nostalgically harkened to.  The natural order of things needed to change; the tail had to stop wagging the big, American dog.  Shows you just how out of it Washington and the media are. 

As the late John Diefenbaker* once said, "Dogs know what to do with polls (sic)." 
_________________________________________
* Google him

    

T'was ever thus

All the brou-ha-ha about post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in the ranks of the army is getting a little much.  Since the beginning of time, the infantry has always been the fallback job choice for society's marginal who often can't find alternative employment.  I mean, why would one voluntarily join up for a possible death sentence if one had another option?  (This does not include the Great Wars, when not signing up was a sign of cowardice.)

Sorry to be so brutal, but there's a reason foot soldiers have always been referred to as "canon fodder":  they are disposable.  It is considerably more difficult to get into the navy and air force, but the army?  After an age-check, you're in. 

My late uncle used to call it "shell shock" and shook his head as if to say, "Some poor chaps just weren't up to it."  And that was that.  But never mind because joining the army gave you a career, status, a nice paycheque, perks, world travel and a tidy pension-for-life.  Now, however, that's not enough because in addition to medical marijuana, today's veterans are demanding psychiatric counselling and compensation until.....whenever. 

I am as sorry as the next guy about the suicides, but these people might probably have committed it anyway.  No amount of counselling, for example, would have prevented my late brother from killing himself at the young age of 32.  He had many demons that would not have been expunged by talking about them.  Better not to dwell on them, just get on with it, I say.

But this is Canada, so no one does.   

                 

Whenever I see a clip about squalid conditions on native reserves....

...I google the facts because today's journalists are too lazy.  Here are a few about the Sandy Bay reserve in Manitoba:

• In 1989, the federal government transferred funding to Sandy Bay to manage its own affairs;
• Subsequently, the First Nations Infrastructure Funding (FNIF) program allocated $239.4 million for proposal-based projects on-reserve for:
• solid waste management,
• energy systems,
• local roads and bridges,
• planning,
• skills development, and
• connectivity;
• Manitoba, where Sandy Bay is located, received $45.1 million -- the most for any province;
• The Maritimes received the least;
• The current chief of Sandy Bay now accuses the previous council of racking up $19 million in debt, or would that be "stealing"?;
• Over and above this money, the Liberal government recently handed over another $495,000 in 2016 for new-home construction in Sandy Bay;
• The government also gave Sandy Bay another $1.8 million for repairs to existing homes (the ones in the TV clip); and
• Sandy Bay says it doesn't know where the money went, but doesn't want a third-party forensic audit that would tell it. 

Huh???

Currently, 55 teachers on this reserve of 6,174 are owed $737,000 in pay, even as they are obliged to continue to pay into their pensions, deductions and insurance.  What does chief Lance Roulette say about all this?  "I don't know where the money went, or where it is going now."  Seriously?

So, the next time you see a grotesque clip about a remote, sordid reserve, do a little research.  If you buy into all the usual folklore and hype, you will be shocked when you learn the actual facts.  And I bet the inhabitants have no clue either because it's easier to just flip it up to YouTube.  These people need to hold their own council to account, instead of blaming the rest of Canada.  And Minister Carolyn Bennett needs to get a grip and tell the truth.   

Disgraceful. 

Two ignorant "T"s

Two classic narcissists in the news of late both have surnames beginning with "T":  Trudeau and Trump.  They are very alike in many aspects -- not the least of which is their almost complete ignorance of the respective constitutions of their native lands. 

According to the Oxford Dictionary, "ignorance" is defined as a "want of knowledge, of lacking knowledge, uniformed" and these two take the cake.  I guess it's not surprising for Trudeau, who went to the French French "Lycee Claudel", where he might have picked up a few strands about the French constitution, but unfortunately theirs has pretty much nothing in common with the Canadian Westminster variety.  Coupled with his major in drama, this lack of education might explain why he puts forward as his nominee for the Supreme Court of Canada Justice Malcolm Rowe, of the Court of Appeal of Newfoundland and Labrador -- a guy who declared after he learned of his good fortune, "I want to make law, not interpret it." 

How completely astounding.  This guy does not know that Parliament makes laws and the Supreme Court interprets them -- or at least that's the way it's supposed to operate.  Shhh, don't tell Chief Beverly McLaughlin.  She apparently believes she makes, interprets and upholds the laws of this land regardless of well, anything!  Talk about someone believing their own press.

Trudeau also summarily declared all Liberal Senators "independent" and kicked them out of caucus.  Along with removing two duly-elected MPs from their seats and crossing the floor to punch a female MP as he manhandled another, the hapless Trudeau might as well have torn up the Canadian constitution, tossed it into the gutter and stomped on it.  

Happily, Natural Resources Minister Jim Carr knows enough about the constitution to understand that the federal government does not have to secure the approval of native communities to build a pipeline that crosses reserve territory; the government's only obligation is to consult openly and thoroughly with pipeline residents, which is what the government has done ad nauseum.  No "approval" is required because they don't own the land.

The Constitution Act of 1867 assigned legislative jurisdiction over Indian lands to The Crown, i.e., the Canadian government.  Reserve lands may not be seized legally, it continues.  "The legal title of an Indian reserve is vested in Her Majesty (Canada), but which is set apart for use of an Indian band."

All that to say that when a project is in the national interest -- such as a railway, a highway or a pipeline -- the government has the right to put it through.  That is precisely why the drafters gave use, but not title, to natives on reserve land.  I am a tad more confident a pipeline might actually get built, based on what the natural resources minister has said.  I am also happy to hear from the Kinder Morgan president that many native leaders support lucrative pipelines crossing through reserve territory, but sad to learn they will not publically admit it.  Too bad so few Canadians -- starting with the PM -- bother to google these acts and inform themselves of the law of the land. 

Enviro's, natives, Gregor Robertson, Denis Coderre, Christie Clark, David Suzuki, Elizabeth May, Neil Young, Leonardo di Caprio, et al, are you listening?  It's time for Canadians to quit arguing the toss and get on with it.         

Waaaaay too far

The University of British Columbia has gone off its rocker by accusing Steven Galloway, head of the creative writing program, of sexual harassment and firing him point blank.  It's been a witch hunt of gargantuan proportions, with a couple of female students accusing him without grounds.  Just their word against his. 

Please.

Everything -- the allegations, report findings and investigation -- has been cloaked in secrecy and non-disclosure while Mr. Galloway's entire life lies in ruins without a charge laid.  But the women who have claimed he "came onto them" are out in full force in the public thoroughfare and he has no way to defend himself. 

It's all so "yesterday".  Rabid feminists have highjacked the public agenda and Galloway is now an uncharged pariah, while they go merrily on with the full support of UBC.  It's disgusting and I am ashamed of those of my gender behaving in this way. 

These days, women can accuse men of anything under the sun with complete impunity.  Just like the female NDP MPs who accused a couple of male Liberal MPs of sexual assault -- even though these women consented to the sex!  I mean, seriously!  If a woman says "yes", it's "yes".  The hapless Trudeau kicked the accused MPs out of caucus, while the women involved were permitted to hide under the desk, unidentified.  What an absolute disgrace.

What has happened to university highjinks?  Where has reason fled?  When I was in university, I dated a professor for two years.  Did he approach and come on to me?  Hell yes and I was pretty flattered.  I was not in any of his classes, so thought nothing of it and I could have discouraged him at any time.  But I didn't and the whole "affair" was completely consensual. 

From the beginning of time, men have been approaching women and in my view it's all completely normal.  If you don't want to get involved, don't.  But don't run around screaming "the sky is falling" when it's nothing more than a boy-meets-girl deal.  Grow up, ladies.

I am sick of "feminism" and its boring ills.          

A civilian's look at history

Everywhere I turn, Romeo Dallaire is there.  Now he's written another book about PTSD entitled, 'Waiting for First Light', an account of his many trials and tribulations as a Lieutenant General in the Canadian Army in various war-torn theatres.    

I believe he was not fit for the post.  I believe he was promoted because Canada was trying to rid itself of its "white, English" image in the armed forces, just as it was aggressively and blindly doing in the federal public service at the time.  In spite of the fact Dallaire is lauded far and wide -- even being awarded the highest US honour that can be bestowed on a foreigner:  the Legion of Merit (a sop for guilt over Rwanda) -- I have a problem with a guy who can't handle the heat in the average military kitchen.

These "unchristian" thoughts occur to me as I read a fabulous book by the WW II British General Sir Alanbrooke, one of the most competent generals in history.  Reading what he bore, I cannot imagine him or any of his ilk crying or getting drunk on a park bench in the public thoroughfare in the middle of the day; that's what mess halls and private quarters are for.  I cannot imagine the likes of Patton, McArthur, Eisenhower, Alexander, Montgomery, Bradley or Crerar, for example, ever doing anything of the like, or writing books about how tough it was and how hard-done-by they were.

Never.  Dallaire was simply the wrong guy to promote.  Not his fault, he probably thought he was deserving and up to the mark, but in my mind he was not. 

Nevertheless, in the spirit of narcissistic shamelessness, the general publically bit the hand that fed every chance he got.  What happened?  He was handsomely rewarded by being made a Senator in 2005.  Conveniently, he resigned in 2014 over.....something or other.....to concentrate on public speaking, where the real money awaits.  Oh, and did I mention that by waiting until 2014 he qualified for a full pension?  Coupled with all his other pensions, the guy is pretty much in-the-chips.   

Affirmative Action at its worst. 







   

One length

"See that woman?" said one of my swim buddies this morning, as we halted at the end of a lane.  "She's been swimming here for ten years and hasn't improved one iota.  Still fights with the water as if she hates it."  He was right, but for some reason this woman always seemed to be just a tad faster than I, which or course, p-ssed me off. 

This guy -- by the way, the hottest 68-year-old ironman you have ever laid eyes on -- has become a lane friend, although we never get together clothed and out of the water.  That's how it is.  You become very friendly with the regulars -- even knowing intimately a great deal about their personal lives -- but you never socialize.  Today, he told me to hold my glide longer before taking the next stroke, "and don't kick so hard.  You'll be amazed at how much you will improve."  So I tried it and in one length I actually easily passed the woman in question -- to both her amazement and my own. 

"See," said my friend.  "I bet you felt as is you were going slower, but you were actually swimming faster."  He was completely right and I am now a much better and more efficient swimmer after just one practice length.  When he left I continued the new way and was dumbfounded by how much it improved my swimming and stoke efficiency.  The number of strokes it took for me to complete a lap decreased noticeably -- although not to the 10 or 12 he does one in.  But I'll get there.  Never too late to teach an old water rat new tricks. 

I have actually breached the "no socializing" rule by organizing a "Christmas in November" lunch for the regular women I swim with -- and like -- or see in the locker room.  Those I don't like aren't invited, of course, but this will be a motely group of women from 30 to 75 -- all of whom are a lot of fun and don't take themselves too seriously.  The lane snobs who fancy themselves uber triathletes will not be joining us.  To my amazement, we are now up to about 10, all of whom seem delighted to have been included.

And yes, the woman I now pass is included.       

53

That's the number of narcissistic women I counted today I have known in my life.  There are probably many more, but in chatting with a friend, that's the number we came up with.  "What about....?" she said.  "Definitely," I affirmed.  "And......?"  "No, not her."  But there were more yes's than no's as we ran through the candidates.  Narcissism is defined on the web as:

 "A long-term pattern of behaviour characterized by feelings of exaggerated self-importance, an excessive need for admiration and a lack of understanding of others' feelings.  People affected by it often spend a lot of time thinking about achieving power or success, or about their appearance.  They often take advantage of people around them.  The behaviour typically begins in early adulthood."

Well, ahem to that.  To me, a narcissist is someone who can't relate to others and sees the world exclusively from their point of view.  In other words, people who can't get out of their chairs.  Know anyone like that?  Of course you do.  Funnily and sadly enough, the women on my list are also bitches.  In fact, in reviewing my list, I removed a couple because they weren't.  I am thinking here of Jackie from the cottage and a woman from the tennis club because, although aggressively self-centred, they were actually "nice", in a way.  One thing of particular note is that every woman on the list dislikes me.  Funny that.  Should I name them?  Why not:

Diana, S, Genevieve, Julia, Margaret, Bonnie, Shelia, Anita, Flo, Florence, Cheryl, EJ, Audrey, Jane, Cynthia, Monica, Fay, Barbara, Peggy, Mary, Helene, Marj, A, Jennifer, Janet, Janice, Robin, Robyn, Nancy, Connie, Jennifer, Judy, Sue, Erica, Theresa, Louise, Libby, Sandy, Claudia, Christine, Val, Darlene, Sue-Anne, Lisa, Lorraine, Holly, Pat, Jean, D, M, P and Jean.

Narcissism was on my mind because I was reading yet another story about our hapless PM and his endless selfies.  (By the way, his mother is high on my list.)  For this exercise, I decided to focus on just women -- from my days at RevCan, to my working life, to the cottage days, to tennis clubs and even relatives.  It's astounding that I identified 54 whose narcissism is breathtaking. 

They are such bores.  Anyone with me here?  I bet.      

Decided not to bother

Reading of the suicide of three young girls in the native community of Stanley Mission La Ronge, I thought about blogging my well-trodden thoughts.  But I decided against it. 

I mean, why bother writing about the futility of living on these remote reserves and how they turn young people into hopeless addicts?  So, I decided against it. 

And why bother about writing yet again about the native leaders of these communities who have so dismally failed their own people because they aggressively maintain the reserve system to get money?  So, I decided against it.

And why bother ranting about the native leaders who are all over the TV screens, demanding the PM step in and "do something about it".  Why bother?

And there's no point asking native leaders for accountability because they fervently deny and avoid any.  No answers there.

And as I sit and watch native leaders on television blaming everyone but themselves for the miserable, dreary and dismal state of the reserves and the people they lead, I can only marvel at the outrageous nerve they have in casting blame on the rest of us. 

It's breathtakingly shocking.    

 

Nothing new here

It happened to me all the time.  Globe and Mail columnist Margaret Wente's column today described what life was like in the average office when she began her career.  About the same age, I began mine when she did, in the early seventies.   

What was it like?  It was fending off pass-after-pass-after-pass from male co-workers and bosses, which we did with a laugh here and a chuckle there.  It was all part of the office contract about which we didn't give an extra thought.  In my case I sometimes used it to my advantage because the deck was stacked against my earning what my male colleagues did, thus I had no qualms about teasing my boss to get what I deserved in my salary cheque.  And I got it. 

"Fending off the unwanted attentions of men you worked with was just the background noise of life," writes Wente.  "I learned that even the nicest guy might mash you up against the wall and slobber you with kisses."  Oh boy, can I relate. 

Yes, indeed.  She says she didn't complain to anyone because what would have been the point?  No harm done.  No repercussions.  She managed.  That's what women did.  That's what I did.  "We spent much of our working lives in a world where crude advances and petty harassment were just something you coped with," says Wente.  Was it right?  No.  Was it a fact of life?  Yes. 

In my case, I experienced more than just "advances".  I will leave that to your imagination, but I got on with it, advanced my career and never looked back.  But I am very proud that young career women today do not put up with what we had to take.  Good for them.  I like to think that those of us who went before in the first vanguard of  "women's lib" paved their way.   

The times in Norway definitely are a'changin'

Finally, a world body has recognized the genius of Bob Dylan and awarded him the Nobel Prize for literature.  Love him or hate him, he deserves it. 

Personally, I have always loved the guy, from the moment I first heard him.  I quickly rushed out and bought 1963's "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" album and played it to death -- much to the chagrin of my long-suffering parents who played 'The King and I' and 'Oklahoma' to the back teeth on the old living room cabinet stereo.  Remember those monstrosities?  I was 16 and thought Bob Dylan the coolest guy.  Ever.

He has been a troubadour and soothsayer for the times since he first sauntered onto the music scene in New York's Greenwich Village in the early sixties.  Sinatra (feature it!) was all the rage and yet in wandered a bedraggled guy of genius who schlepped around coffee shops and predicted the future in his wonderful songs and poetry.  Seriously.  Remember "The times they are a changin'"?  They were.  They still are.  He blew everyone away and continues to do so in his own perverse way. 

Starting out a folk singer, he pissed everyone off when he "plugged in".  Again, I rushed out and bought that latest album.  I still regard him as wonderful, unique and magical -- even though he may be an asshole in his personal life.  So many genii are.

Reading all the columnists chiming in about his prize, only two were negative:

Dave Bidini, singer for The Rheostatics.  Ever heard of them?  Yeah, me neither; and

Someone called "Russell Smith", a junior music review for The Globe and Mail. 

Yeah, me neither.

Boys, get your collective acts together and realize that Dylan is right up there with Keats and Byron when it comes to getting a finger on the societal pulse.   

       

The best thing.....

.....about watching the Blue Jays is Buck Martinez.  After winning the wild card, baseball and the Jays aren't of much interest to me -- unless they go on to win the AL and advance to the World Series. 

But Buck Martinez is one guy I love to watch because he is just so sexy.  To me, sexy is not really good looking, although Buck has that in spades.  No, it's a combination of looks, demeanour, style and brains.  Throw in his gorgeous silver hair and mellifluous voice and I'm done.  And you can tell he is a real gentleman who respects women by the way he behaves with the young female colleagues he works with during the broadcast.  Most veterans like Martinez would hog the mike and talk over a female colleague, but he does none of that.  The way he behaves elevates and gives them credibility and frankly, that's just irresistible.   

Apart from Mr. Martinez, I can't think of another sports commentator I find even remotely interesting -- especially the goons who call hockey.  Yuck.  Oh, I forgot Don Cherry.  Not that I find him sexy, but his lines, his experience, his take on the game and his bold-faced patriotism -- not to mention his spectacular wardrobe -- make him endlessly watchable.

Unfortunately, what doesn't work in hockey broadcasts are the young women in the studio who call it.  Why?  Because the thugs obviously don't give an sh-one-tee about what they say or think, rendering them ineffective, invalid and pretty much useless. 

Well, that's my take on sports at the moment. 

More predictable tragedy

British Columbia's representative for children and youth has released a report which says that native children in foster care in that province suffer four times as much sexual violence as non-native.  This is tragic, but no surprise. 

Without going into all the sad and chronic reasons why native children are removed from their families, what is clear is that the "delegated care model" -- the norm for on-reserve children -- is not working.  This is the model whereby authority for the care of neglected native children has been delegated to native organizations, along with the money required. 

Obviously, it's not working. 

What is galling, however, is that in all the columns and articles I read today about this mess -- and believe me I searched -- not one mentioned this glaring fact.  Not even a respected columnist like Andre Picard in The Globe and Mail did any research or wrote one word about who these children are being fostered out to.  The whole mess has been sanitized and depicted to infer that it is outside white families who are sexually abusing these children.  The facts don't bear this out and I am tired of lazy journalists simply picking up a report, reading through it and 'cutting and pasting' without doing a lick of digging into why it is happening. 

Here are a few facts:

• 48% of 30,000 children in care in Canada are native, yet they are only 4.3% of the population;
• Kinship care neglect is 12.4 times higher for native children than for non-native; and
• In B.C., 55% of native children live out-of-home, but are only 8% of the total population.

I could go on with statistics, but you get the idea.  The delegating of foster care at the insistence of native leaders has been a dismal failure, but you will not hear one of them take any community responsibility in the public thoroughfare for this on-going tragedy -- just as you will not hear one of them mention RCMP stats that prove murdered native women are in fact being killed by kith and kin. Political correctness in this country is so rampant journalists daren't breathe a whisper. 

As a retired, professional journalist, I am appalled by the lack of diligence and integrity applied by today's dismal, irresponsible and lazy gaggle.       

So

Before they began their eight-day trip to Canada, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge probably envisioned Canada as a vast country of cold, snow, rain and Indians.  After their visit, they must still see Canada as a country of cold, snow, rain and Indians. 

Their entire visit was centred in BC's Indian territories and that's about all they encountered.  Oh, and a depressing visit to Vancouver's downtown east side, where they spent time talking uselessly in earnest to drug-addicted mothers of doomed children.  And they sweetly seemed so intense about it all.

How naïve. 

Canada is so much more!  It is a shame the bleak bits were all they experienced.  Thank you "Christie Cream" for arranging such a slanted and depressing view of your province.  The Royals will now go back to Buckingham Palace and report to our Head of State over a cuppa about what a dismal country Canada is.

All so sad.    

Dear Diary

Started the day with a quick glance of The Herald, The Globe and Mail and morning television.  What's with the fact that all coverage of The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge's visit to B.C. is about natives?  What about the rest of that province's population?  OK, there was a wee tea party for a few soldiers and their families the other day, but apart from that it's all-natives-all-the-time. 

Complete poppycock.  And never mind a simple, light snub.  No, Phillip Stewart, grand chief of the union of B.C. Indian Chiefs, delivered a veritable hard slap in the face of The Royals by publically refusing to attend an official ceremony to add a ring of reconciliation to The Rod in the legislature.  Sadly, Stewart didn't even have the grace or guts to show up to deliver the slap in person.  He sent a lackey to the ceremony to convey it for him. 

What a non-class act from a guy who regularly receives millions from The Crown via the federal government.  I would hope every responsible and informed Native Canadian agrees this was a very poor show indeed.
_______________________________

Went to the pool late this morning -- thanks to a little late-night binge-watching of season five of 'Longmire' -- and what a scene in the locker room when I showed up!  All the ladies I regularly swim with hooted, "Nancy, boy you're late today!  What happened?!"  They all know exactly when one normally shows up and one is quizzed if off by even 15 minutes. 

There they were -- Gail, Wendy, Lorraine, Sharon, Noella and Radana -- all assailing me for my tardiness.  The only one missing was you, Alma!  Heck, it was only 9 a.m., not exactly "the crack of noon", as my charmingly-amusing and funny step-son says about late sleepers.  But that's very late for this bunch.  Nevertheless, it is a privilege to take sh-t from these remarkable women.
________________________________

Well, back to Longmire.    

  

I always wonder....?

Sitting in a hotel, watching the action at the bar, I always wonder who is going to get lucky and who isn't.  It's dead simple to figure out.  Just watch body language and you've got it figured. 

That's what I was doing last Thursday night in our hotel in Vancouver, where we had ventured for a long-weekend vacation.  While there, we dodged The Big One, which is slated to hit anytime between now and two hundred years out (that's about as accurate as these predictions can be).  When it comes, this one will be devastating, believe me.  One interesting side note, on the flight there, WestJet's vp of finance, who happened to be on board, stepped up to the mike and charmingly introduced himself.  Next thing I knew, he was working a cart with the flight attendant!  Pretty impressive.   

Along with the dashing Errol Flynn who drank there in his time, we stayed at The Sylvia Hotel on English Bay.  What a place!  Built in 1912, it has been designated a heritage site -- a blessing because it is surrounded by luxury condos and restaurants which would otherwise expand, bleed into and destroy all its prime territory.  The really weird thing about The Sylvia is that it is pretty much exclusively Caucasian.  I kid you not!  In a city that is about half Asian and Indo, all I saw in The Sylvia were white people.  That and many lesbian and gay couples.  In fact, I don't think I saw "your average couple" the whole time we were there?!

The Sylvia opened the first cocktail bar in Vancouver in 1959.  It was called "The Tilting Bar", for some reason?  While there, old ladies actually came in with pillows and neck rests to have a cocktail!  The whole place has an "English pub" atmosphere without an overhead sports TV to be seen -- thank G-d!  I loved looking out over the bay to see the many huge freighters waiting to be towed to the harbour to unload.  Their gorgeous lights at night were dazzling. 

One evening when B turned in early, an old guy actually tried to pick me up at the bar!  Brought back many memories of my years of business travel, when I sat at the bar so I could tell the bartender I didn't want to be bothered.  The bar is actually a pretty safe place, but then again so is The Sylvia itself. 

"I think I'll get out of these wet clothes and into a dry martini," was the quote over a seafood restaurant we went to.  Attributed to Alexander Woollcott, they had actually spelt his name incorrectly over the bar.  How could one get that wrong?  The waitress told me no one had ever mentioned it before.  Trust me to point it out. 

The flight home was one of the bumpiest I had ever encountered.  But a gorgeous first officer landed us perfectly back home in Calgary.  "Heather touched down like a feather," I said to the steward.  She emerged from the cockpit and he told her what I had said.  I think she actually blushed.

The famous Sylvia Hotel in Vancouver's English Bay.  The ivy is famous. 

     

Forked tongues again

The latest kerfuffle in the news is the cost of food in the North.  Really?  It all has to be shipped into communities and reserves because the people who live there insist on staying there.  It's all about money, of course, but here's the BS: 

Natives insist on staying on remote northern reserves because they want to preserve their traditional way of life.  Yet, they want to eat Cornflakes and strawberries and hang around the house.  If you want to remain traditional, get on your sleds, go out and kill seals and trap food.  Otherwise, move!  Ah, but they can't because staying in these hell-holes guarantees them money.

The whole thing is a ludicrous Catch 22.  Stay on the reserve because that's how you get money, but don't hunt and trap.  Instead, eat ridiculously expensive commercial food.  Duh!!??  Now we hear that the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge will be visiting all sorts of native reserves and crying and wailing about the conditions in these dismal communities.  "It will be wonderful for the Royals to see how we live and take our concerns back to Her Majesty," said Perry Bellegarde, the ignorant chief of the AFN.  What an idiot.  Does he still not realize that The Crown delegated all native matters to Canada way back when!?  You do not deal with Queens Victoria or Elizabeth, buddy.  You deal with Canada. 

Once again, my solution is to move off-reserve, as my great-grandmother did, and become "Canadian".  I am so sick of it.      

He died

Those were the unbelieveable words spoken to me this morning when I entered the pool for my swim.  For a month, a fellow swimmer and I had wondered, "Where's J...?  Have you seen him?  I haven't seen him in the pool for a long time," I had said on a number of occasions to this pool buddy.  The sad, sad reality was that our mutual pool buddy had perished in early August in a tragic climbing accident in Kananaskis. 

He was only 42 years old. 

People die in climbing accidents out here, it's a risky sport.  But after 25 years at it, J was a very experienced and responsible climber.  He was like that in the pool too.  Helpful and friendly, he followed lane etiquette and was actually the guy who patiently helped me perfect my flip turn after my many years of doing a lousy one.  "Push down with your right hand on your last stroke, don't stop and keep your eyes on the blue centre line as you flip," he had instructed me.  "That way you'll go straight because your head follows your eyes and your body follows your head."  He was right, it worked like a charm. 

I pretty much lost it this morning because swimming in the lane beside us for the first time since his death was his lovely widow, L.  Over she swam and we hugged each other.  Ridiculous as it seems, I was so stricken and shocked, she was actually consoling me, for Gawd's sake.  And I had only known him for a couple of years at the pool, in the water. 

As word spread among others who had known him, many of us stopped swimming to share our shock.  That's the strange thing about lap swimming.  You get to know people pretty well, although you never know their last names and mainly restrict your outside contact to the occasional coffee with a few.  But when you're in the pool pounding laps together, a camaraderie develops.  J was part of that group of which I feel privileged to be a member. 

As I did my laps today, I dedicated every flip turn to J and cried into my fogged-up goggles for much of the swim.  So, farewell J, you were a great guy and are deeply missed by those of us lucky enough to have shared a lane with you.         

Ugly

Judging by what's on offer in the high street, I am now officially out of the fashion loop.  More ugliness appeared in Calgary's 'Avenue' magazine today.  If this is attractive, I'm dead and completely off track.  But these outfits are ugly and I know I'm not.  Here you go:

 

Just completely hideous.  And the models!  Could not be more unattractive -- also ugly with ugly makeup.  Whatever happened to beauty?



A couple of things..........

When I worked with her, she must have been 48 years old.  I was a hot 27 (or so old photos seem to indicate).  And she was a complete bitch.  I am talking about Sonja Bata, widow of Tom Bata and now the head of the Bata shoe empire -- a woman who is about to turn 90.  In a glowing piece in today's Globe and Mail, she is lauded from head to toe (no pun intended) for all her accomplishments, but in reality I found her to be a narcissistic snob.

I had to work with her when I ran the Vincent Massey Awards for Excellence in the Urban Environment and she was one of the judges.  The fact that she was jealous of me is proof of her bitchiness.  I mean, I can be a bitch when required, but I don't start out that way.  I give women the benefit of the doubt, but if they start acting like self-centred bitches, look out.  Otherwise, I enjoy working with women as much as with men.

So happy birthday, Sonja, but you won't be getting a card from me. 

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If you get The Globe, there is a grammar quiz on page F2 you should take.  Sylvia Stead, the paper's public editor, says that if you score five to 10, you should be proud of yourself.  Five out of 15 questions!  Ridiculous.  If you score any higher you are "a charter member of The Globe's good-grammar club."  I took it because couldn't not and scored 14 out of 15, according to how they marked.  The one I got "wrong" was about clichés.  The answer was to eliminate one, but I didn't because it was not grammatically incorrect.  So, I really got 15 out of 15 and I bet anyone educated in Canada in the fifties will also get every one right.  Try it. 

Stead ends her introduction with this:  "Under five?  Don't despair, just blame the education system."  It is unbelievable that this editor gets that closing sentence wrong.  It's "educational", you idiot.  And this is a women who actually gets paid.  G-d help us.         

'Blackstone'

If you have Netflix and want to know what's wrong with The Indian Act and the hopeless reservation system it spawns, watch this series.  I was amazed and shocked that natives participated in this expose of what actually goes on on the average "rez".

It chronicles what I have been saying and writing about for years:  corruption, incompetence, cronyism, alcoholism, sniffing, suicide, incest and abject desperation are the cornerstones of life in these dismal and degrading communities.  And the natives can thank their own inept and lawless leadership for the entire tragedy.  The disclaimer says it's a "fictional" Alberta reservation, but it might just as well be down the road at Stoney-Nakoda and Siksiska or Tsuu t'ina.

As I have said so often, I am eternally grateful to my Mohawk great-grandmother who married off-reserve, thus allowing her offspring to be "Canadian".  This stark series should be required viewing for our hapless and naïve prime minister and clueless minister of indigenous and northern affairs.  Someone should make them sit in a chair and watch all episodes so they could actually know what is going on under their noses. 

Natives themselves need to wake up and force their own chiefs and leaders to be accountable for what they are doing with the billions given them.  Better still, get the hell off the rez.     

Who bumps the Olympics?

The Tragically Hip, that's who.  For my international readers, I am sure you have no clue who The Hip is, but they are the quintessential Canadian band -- a wonderful, powerful group headed by Gord Downie, the Shakespeare of Canada.  For two and a half hours, all of Canada tuned into the live CBC broadcast of the last concert of this fabulous band. 

Why?  Because, Gord Downie has inoperable brain cancer and he was saying goodbye to his fans all across this perfect country.

Actually, I have never been a big fan of The Hip, but who could not watch this final cross-Canada concert?  And it was in Kingston, where the band started 28 years ago.  Kingston is close to my heart because this town is from where my kith and kin hail.  It is also where one of my children went to university for four years, so we went often.  I am of Irish and Mohawk extraction and I have visited the cemeteries of all my birth relatives interred there; I am one of the fortunate who found my birth family.

Tonight, there was the great Ron McLean, hosting The Hip's final concert on a huge screen on Copa Cabana Beach, 8,200 K's south of Kingston in Rio.  All the Canadian athletes were there because every Canadian is tuned into The Hip.  It's automatic. Did I get emotional?  You bet.  I was up dancing and crying as Gord said his final goodbye after five encores. 

As I say, there is no country like Canada.         

Still an android

"I have never been without a phone," exclaimed the middle-aged guy next to me being served in the Koodo store the other day.  "But I just got laid off and they took my company phone away."  That's the state of play here in Alberta, thanks to the ignorance of the anti-pipeline fools and the low price of oil.  "Several of our neighbours just lost their jobs," said another friend. 

It's a very scary epidemic here in Calgary.  At the Y, where I swim, old faces have disappeared and new ones have popped up.  "The new people used to swim downtown, but they lost their jobs and now swim here, closer to where they live," explained one of the lifeguards.  Jeez.  We are so lucky to have ended our careers with defined pension plans!

But back to Koodo.  I was getting a new cellphone, my old, original, duct-taped Blackberry having finally given up the ghost.  Like Obama, I hated to part with it because it was so easy to use.  And I loved the keyboard!  To use the keyboard on this thing, you have to use a finger, not a nail, and you have to switch every which way to hit a capital or an apostrophe.  With my old phone, it was all right there.  All I wanted was a small, cheap, easy-to-use cell so that's what I got.  Who needs a HUGE tablet?!  Not me.  But I had to stick with android because otherwise, my data and photos would not have been transferable.  So, I got an "LG" phone, whatever that is?  Still getting used to it, but it's not a patch on my Blackberry.  Whatever happened to that company??  More Steve Jobs destruction. 

Too bad.
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For the life of me, I can't figure out why I cannot get an essay published in The Globe and Mail?  I have submitted about five which I thought were pretty good, but no, nothing.  I consider myself a decent writer, so the only thing I can think of is that they google me, read a few of my blogs and decide I am far too radical and "out there" to publish.  It may also be because I purposely tone myself down, hoping to get published.  Maybe toning down doesn't suit my writing personality?  At any rate, I will continue to try because when I read what they publish by other amateurs, I know I am at least as good.       

It never ends

"Leaped, medaling and referendums" all flowed out of Wendy Mesley's mouth in the past couple of days.  And since the CBC news repeats ad nauseum, one had to listen to it over and over.  Does the woman not know it's "leapt, winning a medal and referenda"? 

I am so sick of the butchering of the English language by supposedly educated journalists.  It really grates on my ears on an hourly basis. 

Other charms from the Olympics are the arrest in his nightshirt of the senior Irish IOC delegate for a ticket-selling scam, the "taxi caper" on the part of the American swimmers and the disgraced boxing judges sent home for taking bribes.  In the face of all this -- plus Calgary's dismal economic state -- why in the world did the mayor of this suffering town hustle off to Rio to lobby for the next Olympics??!!  Is he crazy? 

Speaking of the delusionally out-of-touch, our hapless PM will be attending the final Tragically Hip concert in Kingston this weekend.  Yes, we all know that any leader can only influence about one percent of anything that happens in a country, but the juvenile Trudeau should not be seen frolicking and participating in rabid selfies.  He should stay home, pretend he's attending to weighty state matters and watch it on television like the rest of us.  But, of course he won't.

More out-of-touch involves -- yet again -- the native file.  In addition to the billions dished out to native leaders regularly all across Canada, another $33 million has just been announced by the emotional hostage, the Minister of Indigenous and Northern Affairs, Carolyn Bennett, to study....I actually forget what this time??  This was greeted once again by native leaders as an amount that will... "never be enough to get back what we lost." 

Apparently, when named minister of this file, incumbents get trapped in a vortex of fear and blackmail spun by the self-serving leaders with whom they are trying to work.  All long-term logic and sense evaporates in a haze of misguided guilt and instead of working on the future, they try to make the past disappear by heaving money at it.  Never works for the doomed rank-and-file, but hey, it's a great gig for their flourishing leaders.  

Never mind all that, more "never enough" will also be handed out to compensate for the "sixties scoop" (kudos to whoever thought up that nifty slogan), of native children who were put into residential schools.  As I have said before, all boarding schools are "residential schools".  Sure some nasty stuff goes on, but it goes on everywhere -- even in the "bedrooms of the nation", as another Trudeau said long ago.  But you can't argue the fact that many of these schools produce some of the greatest statesmen in history. 

Oh, and let's not forget the BC Haida people who just stripped two hereditary chiefs of their titles for writing to the National Energy Board in support of the proposed Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline.  This dramatic insult was actually carried out via a public rebuke in an elaborate ceremony, witnessed by more than 500 (ignorant, my word) people.  "This is an absolutely huge decision and a wake-up call to the hereditary system of governance and leadership," said the man behind it, Grand Chief Stewart Phillip of the union of BC chiefs.  He's got the "absolutely huge" part right, but not in the way he means it.  It's "absolutely huge" because Canada's economic health is in dire straights and desperate need of getting our oil to markets.  But trust me, as long as well-funded natives oppose it, not one inch will get built.  Just ask Vancouver's hypocritical mayor, Gregor Robertson, a strident and fervent opponent of anything even remotely related to oil.   

What it boils down to is that Canadians are actually paying natives and their allies to fight this country's prosperity at every turn.  It's a disgrace. 

Culture clash

I wrote this last August, when the story broke, but don't know why I didn't publish it then?  Anyway, the opinions still hold.  Here it is: 
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The thieves behind the hospital-funding scandal plaguing three Toronto hospitals struck me immediately.  Both executives who approved the contracts are from cultures where graft, greed, corruption and not paying taxes are almost badges of excellence.  One culprit appears to be Greek and the other East Indian, cultures which seem to have no problem with operating way outside proper fiscal lines. 

So, it's no surprise these individuals stole --  be it from taxpayers or the government.  The proof is in the pudding, which is the ugly mess called Greece; Pakistan and India are also widespread dens of graft and corruption from top to bottom.  Sorry to point out these connections, but I may be the only Canadian who would. 

It's not race, folks, it's culture.  Plain and simple.  Having worked for the CRA for many years, I know a thing or two about what categories of taxpayer trigger audit flags.  While not mentioned for fear of mass, bleeding-heart Canadian finger-pointing about targeting, it is nonetheless practiced because it has to be.  Canada has the best tax system in the world to ensure citizens pay their due and are given their entitlements.  By the way, you never hear anyone complaining about entitlements, just taxes.  They don't seem to realize that both go hand-in-hand, can't have one without the other.

The Canadian system is also one which comes down very hard on tax cheats to strongly discourage those who contemplate engaging in it.  Huge penalties, fines and even imprisonment await those caught.  Thanks to the CRA and the fine folks who work there (hats off to all my colleagues), Canada remains the best country in the world.  Why else would so many people flock here?  But if you come, you better obey the law, respect our corporate and financial rules and pay your taxes.

So whatever fate has in store for Mr. Georgiou and Mrs. Bahl, I say bring it on.