More folks voted for Obama than Romney, but the Republicans have the majority in the House of Representatives and will continue to thwart Obama at every turn, even though the Democrats have a slim majority in the Senate. Nothing much has changed. So say the "pundits" who have blathered non-stop since the polls closed.
In Canada, we have a prime minister for whom a decided minority of Canadians voted, yet he is the prime minister because he heads the party with the most seats. That's what a multi-party and first-past-the-post system, such as ours, produces.
So, the difference is the US president is the favourite, yet has little power, while the Canadian prime minister is not the favourite, yet has all the power. Is that about it? I think so.
............................................................................................
On another completely unrelated note, I swim with an absolutely adorable young woman. In her early thirties, she also happens to be completely and breathtakingly gorgeous, with a smile that lights up the whole place. We chat regularly. This morning, as we showered, I finally asked her what she did. Fully expecting this bubbly gal to tell me she was a receptionist or the manager of a restaurant, she said, "I'm a geologist with an oil company." Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
That's what it's like here in Calgary; successful young women litter the place. Gotta love it!
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Actually yelped out loud
Such was my reaction when, flipping through a May 2012 issue of 'House and Home' magazine, I spied him. Oh my G-d! It's Mike Belcourt! And there he was in all his glory, my old buddy from Lisgar Collegiate Institute, majestically surveying his luxe lawns and home in Casa de Campo, Costa Rica.
"Are you alright?" the woman beside me asked. "Sorry, fine, it's just that I know this guy." "Really?" she said, peering into the pages on my lap. Wife Monica by his side, there stood Mike on his bocce ball court in his dazzling white polo slacks and a blue, silk shirt with his trademark shock of white hair (which used to be jet-black) blowing casually in the breeze.
"We usually start with yoga on the lawn, then breakfast and either a game of tennis or polo," he offered. "In the afternoon it's the beach and then cocktails and dinner. We love it here," he added unnecessarily. Yep, Mr. Belcourt has done very well for himself.
I think I have blogged about his success before. Mike was the always-dapper guy in high school who turned his eye for fashion into a multi-million-dollar partnership with Ralph Lauren as the exclusive Canadian distributor of this wildly-successful clothing line way back when. "Who the hell is going to buy something with a polo player embroidered on the front," we used to laughingly scoff. I mean, how many people play polo? Turns out, millions bought the stuff. Now retired, he has homes on Georgian Bay and in Forest Hill, as well as this magnificent pad in the tropics.
Mike was always ahead of the curve. He was the first kid in high school to buy one of the original Mustangs in the early '60s, a dark blue convertible that guaranteed him the attention of the most popular girls in the place. We used to double-date, I with Phil Cleary and he with my cousin Betty-Anne Brousseau (G-d rest her soul). We had so much fun.
Great to see Mike enjoying the fruits of his genius.
"Are you alright?" the woman beside me asked. "Sorry, fine, it's just that I know this guy." "Really?" she said, peering into the pages on my lap. Wife Monica by his side, there stood Mike on his bocce ball court in his dazzling white polo slacks and a blue, silk shirt with his trademark shock of white hair (which used to be jet-black) blowing casually in the breeze.
"We usually start with yoga on the lawn, then breakfast and either a game of tennis or polo," he offered. "In the afternoon it's the beach and then cocktails and dinner. We love it here," he added unnecessarily. Yep, Mr. Belcourt has done very well for himself.
I think I have blogged about his success before. Mike was the always-dapper guy in high school who turned his eye for fashion into a multi-million-dollar partnership with Ralph Lauren as the exclusive Canadian distributor of this wildly-successful clothing line way back when. "Who the hell is going to buy something with a polo player embroidered on the front," we used to laughingly scoff. I mean, how many people play polo? Turns out, millions bought the stuff. Now retired, he has homes on Georgian Bay and in Forest Hill, as well as this magnificent pad in the tropics.
Mike was always ahead of the curve. He was the first kid in high school to buy one of the original Mustangs in the early '60s, a dark blue convertible that guaranteed him the attention of the most popular girls in the place. We used to double-date, I with Phil Cleary and he with my cousin Betty-Anne Brousseau (G-d rest her soul). We had so much fun.
Great to see Mike enjoying the fruits of his genius.
Monday, November 5, 2012
He is finally with us
We met him at the funeral of a revered Ottawa matron about three years ago. Sheila Burpee was renowned in many circles. A devout Catholic, she and her husband Ted had had eight children -- one of whom, Joe, I had been madly in love with in high school. He didn't even look at girls, which made him all the more desireable. But I digress.....
Sheila's elder daughter, Pat, had been tragically killed in a train yard accident a few years before Sheila's death, but she soldiered on. She wasn't so much famous in Ottawa as "infamous", enjoying a tipple or two and speaking her considerably bright mind on any and all occasions.
The author of many a brilliant letter to The Ottawa Citizen, her funeral was class through and through, with a huge family reception afterward. It was there we met a formidable gentleman who, we learned, was about to embark on a trip to various military graveyards in Europe. "My uncle, Clive Marley-Clarke, is buried in a military cemetary in Arezzo, Italy," said B. "He was killed at 24 by a sniper on the march to Florence." "I am visiting that cemetary and I will look him up," he promised. We thanked him and kind of put it out of our minds.
Until he called a few months later. Not only had he found Clive's grave, he had made two rubbings of his tombstone. We were overwhelmed. Over dinner when he brought them to us, he told us of the visit to Arezzo cemetary and uncle Clive's headstone. He had even brought back chestnuts he had found at the site.
The rubbings have remained in our living room blanket box for the last two years. One we gave to daughter Sarah, but I said to B, "We have to get this framed so we can have Clive with us from now on." Today we hung this beautifully framed rubbing. Headed by the Edward VII Crown and Crest, it reads:
Captain
C.D. Marley-Clarke
2nd K.E. VII's O. (stands for "Own")
Gurkha Rifles
6th August 1944
We also have eight charcoal etchings and his Khukri, found in Clive's duffle bag when he died. They were his bloodied weapon and likenesses of some of the Gurkha's in his troop. Now Clive's grave marking will hang alongside his comrades.
This will be a special Remembrance Day, as we honour Clive and so many others.
Sheila's elder daughter, Pat, had been tragically killed in a train yard accident a few years before Sheila's death, but she soldiered on. She wasn't so much famous in Ottawa as "infamous", enjoying a tipple or two and speaking her considerably bright mind on any and all occasions.
The author of many a brilliant letter to The Ottawa Citizen, her funeral was class through and through, with a huge family reception afterward. It was there we met a formidable gentleman who, we learned, was about to embark on a trip to various military graveyards in Europe. "My uncle, Clive Marley-Clarke, is buried in a military cemetary in Arezzo, Italy," said B. "He was killed at 24 by a sniper on the march to Florence." "I am visiting that cemetary and I will look him up," he promised. We thanked him and kind of put it out of our minds.
Until he called a few months later. Not only had he found Clive's grave, he had made two rubbings of his tombstone. We were overwhelmed. Over dinner when he brought them to us, he told us of the visit to Arezzo cemetary and uncle Clive's headstone. He had even brought back chestnuts he had found at the site.
The rubbings have remained in our living room blanket box for the last two years. One we gave to daughter Sarah, but I said to B, "We have to get this framed so we can have Clive with us from now on." Today we hung this beautifully framed rubbing. Headed by the Edward VII Crown and Crest, it reads:
Captain
C.D. Marley-Clarke
2nd K.E. VII's O. (stands for "Own")
Gurkha Rifles
6th August 1944
We also have eight charcoal etchings and his Khukri, found in Clive's duffle bag when he died. They were his bloodied weapon and likenesses of some of the Gurkha's in his troop. Now Clive's grave marking will hang alongside his comrades.
This will be a special Remembrance Day, as we honour Clive and so many others.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Never thought the day would come.........
.......when I would be wearing Dr. Scholl's. But it arrived Friday. Just thinking about Dr. Scholl's made me cringe. Remember those hideous wooden clogs of the 70s? Every loser wore them, thinking they were the latest in fashion statements........for the boring and monotonous, maybe. They were replaced a few years later by the famous Birkenstock -- another replusive item.
(You know, I have to confess I actually bought a pair of Birkenstock's one summer, when we were guests at a friend's cottage. I had recalled from a previous visit that every woman up there wore Birkenstock's, so in a delusional and misguided effort to "fit in", I actually bought a pair. What a mistake. They went with none of my outfits, were ridiculously expensive, gruesome and downright ugly. I mean, what does footwear such as that do for the calf? Zero.)
Anyway, needed new winter boots, the $19.95 "Bum" ones I had had for four years having finally died. Purchased at Walmart, they had done yeoman service, so out we struck for the nearest Walmart.
Unfortunately, they no longer carried "Bum's". "But these Dr. Scholl's are excellent," said the clerk, leading us over to another aisle. Dr. Scholl's, I thought, me? Never! But after thoroughly researching every boot in the place, I realized they were actually the best buy. And at $49.95, they were good value -- even though they didn't come close to the $19.95 of yesteryear. I am damned if I will pay more than $50 bucks for boots -- and that's tops.
So, much to my chagrin, diedhard high-heel lover that I am, I am also now the wearer of Dr. Scholl's.
Will wonders never cease.
(You know, I have to confess I actually bought a pair of Birkenstock's one summer, when we were guests at a friend's cottage. I had recalled from a previous visit that every woman up there wore Birkenstock's, so in a delusional and misguided effort to "fit in", I actually bought a pair. What a mistake. They went with none of my outfits, were ridiculously expensive, gruesome and downright ugly. I mean, what does footwear such as that do for the calf? Zero.)
Anyway, needed new winter boots, the $19.95 "Bum" ones I had had for four years having finally died. Purchased at Walmart, they had done yeoman service, so out we struck for the nearest Walmart.
Unfortunately, they no longer carried "Bum's". "But these Dr. Scholl's are excellent," said the clerk, leading us over to another aisle. Dr. Scholl's, I thought, me? Never! But after thoroughly researching every boot in the place, I realized they were actually the best buy. And at $49.95, they were good value -- even though they didn't come close to the $19.95 of yesteryear. I am damned if I will pay more than $50 bucks for boots -- and that's tops.
So, much to my chagrin, diedhard high-heel lover that I am, I am also now the wearer of Dr. Scholl's.
Will wonders never cease.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Geez Wendy......!!
More often than not, CBC's Wendy Mesley dresses -- if not fashionably -- then appropriately when she anchors The National. Tonight she looked like a waiter: black, tuxedo vest over a bulky white shirt. And a string of pearls to top off the mis-match. Yikes!
It was a fashion disaster.
She needs to take a page from CTV's Marcia MacMillan. Coincidentally, Ms. MacMillan also wore black and white tonight, but her outfit positively dazzled. The so-elegant Marcia has it going on, as they say. And why is Wendy slavishly devoted to those boring diamond studs she sports every friggin' evening?! OK, OK, some guy gave you diamond studs. We have all had guys give us diamond studs, but get over it and wear earrings with a smidgen of style to offset your cropped hair -- which, by the way I love. That "do" works for her perfectly.
Well, now that I've blown that off my chest, I feel better.
p.s. Just had a flashback. At a Knights of Columbus dinner a few years ago, a wife approached me and announced she had just graduated as a "professional stylist". Standing there, in her plastic, black dress, ugly low pumps and dyed-blonde hair, she said, "I could help you accessorize. What I do is come into your home and go through your closet to help you dress better." All this while she bold-faced stood there, sporting pathetic 1/2-inch gold and diamond mall earrings and a cheap gold chain around her neck. Girl, I could give a clinic on accessorizing. The nerve!
Je pense que non, I don't think so.
It was a fashion disaster.
She needs to take a page from CTV's Marcia MacMillan. Coincidentally, Ms. MacMillan also wore black and white tonight, but her outfit positively dazzled. The so-elegant Marcia has it going on, as they say. And why is Wendy slavishly devoted to those boring diamond studs she sports every friggin' evening?! OK, OK, some guy gave you diamond studs. We have all had guys give us diamond studs, but get over it and wear earrings with a smidgen of style to offset your cropped hair -- which, by the way I love. That "do" works for her perfectly.
Well, now that I've blown that off my chest, I feel better.
p.s. Just had a flashback. At a Knights of Columbus dinner a few years ago, a wife approached me and announced she had just graduated as a "professional stylist". Standing there, in her plastic, black dress, ugly low pumps and dyed-blonde hair, she said, "I could help you accessorize. What I do is come into your home and go through your closet to help you dress better." All this while she bold-faced stood there, sporting pathetic 1/2-inch gold and diamond mall earrings and a cheap gold chain around her neck. Girl, I could give a clinic on accessorizing. The nerve!
Je pense que non, I don't think so.
Playing grandma for the day
Daughter Susanne just dropped Reed off for the day. I have often had him for half days, but this will be my first full day. Boring as it will be to most of my readers, I will tell you that he is a very busy boy with a hearty appetite!
Snack this morning was chunks of toast with a little jam slathered over them. Then it was story time and then snooze time. He is getting used to napping here, which is a good thing -- for all of us! Usually we go swimming, but today when he wakes up, it's off to Market Mall and the kiddy area until lunch.
With babies, you just try to keep them busy and fill in the time between meals and naps...anything goes, as long as they're happy!
On another completely unrelated subject, watched "Casino" again yesterday for about the 10th time. Never get tired of that four-hour spectacular movie. Who's better looking than Sharon Stone? And what a fabulous actress. I think the other cast members brought out the very best in her.
Snack this morning was chunks of toast with a little jam slathered over them. Then it was story time and then snooze time. He is getting used to napping here, which is a good thing -- for all of us! Usually we go swimming, but today when he wakes up, it's off to Market Mall and the kiddy area until lunch.
With babies, you just try to keep them busy and fill in the time between meals and naps...anything goes, as long as they're happy!
On another completely unrelated subject, watched "Casino" again yesterday for about the 10th time. Never get tired of that four-hour spectacular movie. Who's better looking than Sharon Stone? And what a fabulous actress. I think the other cast members brought out the very best in her.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
More action from the lobby bar of the Hotel Saskachewan
"Excuse me," he said, "your husband looks important, is he important?" asked the young guy to my right when B had left our table to chat with one of the conference presenters at the recent Friends of the Canadian Crown gathering. "He's a nobody," I replied. "Well, there are a lot of people in here tonight who look important, who are you all?"
B may have looked "important" because he was wearing a bow tie and a dark blue pinstripe suit. The chap introduced himself as "John" from South Carolina, a tomato farmer. "I'm up here hunting," he said. When I told him what we were doing, he was amazed. I think many Americans forget -- or don't even know -- that Canada has a Queen, The Queen, as head of state. Very interested, he then asked me to explain our Parliamentary system of government, which I did happily.
The conversation then switched to American politics. "I've already voted Republican," he said. "Obama was hopeless." I asked him if it was difficult for families to have to be either Republican or Democrat for generations; he hadn't really thought about it. When I explained that we have many parties in Canada and that people vote differently in elections at different levels, he was again amazed. And the fact that neither our judges nor crown prosecutors are elected was another puzzle to him. "And we have an appointed Senate, so no gridlock. Legislation actually gets passed." An eye-opener to someone from the US who lives with a no-legislation form of government.
Americans know practically nothing about their neighbour to the north, but John now knows a smidgen.
B may have looked "important" because he was wearing a bow tie and a dark blue pinstripe suit. The chap introduced himself as "John" from South Carolina, a tomato farmer. "I'm up here hunting," he said. When I told him what we were doing, he was amazed. I think many Americans forget -- or don't even know -- that Canada has a Queen, The Queen, as head of state. Very interested, he then asked me to explain our Parliamentary system of government, which I did happily.
The conversation then switched to American politics. "I've already voted Republican," he said. "Obama was hopeless." I asked him if it was difficult for families to have to be either Republican or Democrat for generations; he hadn't really thought about it. When I explained that we have many parties in Canada and that people vote differently in elections at different levels, he was again amazed. And the fact that neither our judges nor crown prosecutors are elected was another puzzle to him. "And we have an appointed Senate, so no gridlock. Legislation actually gets passed." An eye-opener to someone from the US who lives with a no-legislation form of government.
Americans know practically nothing about their neighbour to the north, but John now knows a smidgen.
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