Two heads and Canadian culture

"Bob and Doug McKenzie and The Group of Seven."  That was my retort to a pretentious guy I met at a dinner party years ago who was waxing pompously on about "Canadian culture".  He cited the Royal Winnipeg Ballet and a couple of orchestras.

"That's not Canadian culture, lots of countries have ballets and orchestras," I said.  "Canadian culture consists of Bob and Doug McKenzie and The Group of Seven.  Period, the end."  He was not amused at having been brought up short.  But to that reverential list, I would now add Stompin' Tom Connors -- as "Canadian" as it gets.  No one but a Canadian would "get" Stompin' Tom.  He's like every guy you ever met in any town in any tavern, hockey arena or Tim Horton's in Canada.  Tom, with his nasal twang and corny tunes, would never have made it anywhere other than Canada.   

The "two heads" part of this blog refers to a black-tie dinner we attended last evening.  I decided to dress around the black-and-white patent leather heels B had bought me in Houston, so I was in black and white (obviously).  To jazz things up, I decided to wear every strand of faux and real pearls I owned in a multi-clustered choker around my neck.  I am not a "pearl" girl, but I have to say, the effect of 15 cascading strands was spectacular.

Just to top it off, I pulled out my evening gloves -- an item no one wears any longer except moi.  I have to admit, even I pause now and then when considering to don the long, formal gloves, but I did last night.  And what did I also do?  Wore one white glove and one black.  Well, you'd have thought I'd had two heads!  People stopped dead in their tracks and oohed and ahhed all over them.  (I have to admit, I copied the late Diana, who once wore a fabulous red-and-black gown, topped off with one red and one black glove.  I thought it was fashion genius, so I emulated.)

Tonight we have another formal dinner in Airdrie and I plan to wear a hot pink, Shepherd's jacket over black, accessorized with my "Angelina Jolie" beryl earrings and green shoes.  I think it will work, but be a bit much for Calgary -- the city in which I am always over-dressed, but who cares! 

So folks, hitherto my helter-skelter thoughts of today. 

       

A little more about Tom............

I often blog about the differences between Canadians and Americans.  As much as we share culturally, we also have very divergent values and attitudes and no one personifies the chasm better than Stompin' Tom.

To my thousands of American and International readers, if you want to know what a true Canadian is, google Tom, or better still, try and get hold of his music.  Every song on his record number of 50 albums is about Canada.  Every song contains the names of hamlets, villages and towns from Newfoundland to British Columbia and up into the Northwest Territories.  Every song will tell you something about this great country, its people, its beauty, its culture and its work ethic.

Tom didn't ride the big highways, he hitchhiked the back roads and road the rails for almost 20 years before he was signed to EMI and started to make some money.  "I know every blade of grass in every town in every province in this beautiful country," he would say.

The only other Canadian musical icons I can name are Leonard Cohen, for his distinct poetic ballads, and Gordon Lightfoot, for his brilliant work trumpeting Canadian achievements and unique folklore. 

Tom was awarded the Order of Canada and even had a stamp franked in his honour.  As a proud Ottawa Valley girl, I can't say enough about the guy.  Just wait 'til Lightfoot passes, the accolades will be overwhelming.     

What a guy

The fabulous Stompin' Tom Connors has died.  I had the privilege of catching one of his shows in some dive bar in Toronto in the early '70s and what a show he put on.  People absolutely loved him because he was so "Canadian".

There he stood on a rickety stage in a smoky tavern, his band behind him and the ever-present block of wood he stomped on through every song.  That block of wood was a great gimmick because you couldn't help but get into the song -- any song -- when he started clomping away with his cowboy boot on that plank.  His songs were as corny as they were catchy.  Who doesn't love 'Sudbury Saturday Night' in which..."the girls are out to bingo, the boys are gettin' stinko and we'll think no more of Inco on a Sudbury saturday night"?  And what about 'Bud the Spud'.......and 'The Hockey Song'.......classics.   

He always sported a slightly grimy cowboy hat and checked shirt of some kind and after he'd finish he'd join anyone and everyone at a table to hoist a few before the next set.  He even sat with us for a bit.  What a gentleman.  So polite and self-effacing.  Utterly charming. 

Once I spotted him driving up Avenue Road in his signature battered pickup, with some sort of hand-made cab on it, his name blazoned on the side.  You couldn't miss him.  His death has made national headlines and tributes are flowing in to a truly great Canadian patriot.

The small-town boy from Skinner's Pond P.E.I. will be missed.   

Women are not good mentors

My letter (transcripted below) was in The Calgary Herald today in response to Naomi Lakritz's column, which I will post on facebook.  It's a tamer version of my previous blog...................

"Dear Editor,

When I retired after a 42-year career in both the private and public sectors I wrote a note thanking all those who had mentored, supported and promoted me. You guessed it, of the 15 or 20 people on the list, not one was a woman. Not one woman had reached down into the trenches to lend a hand up to another. “I’m all right, Jill” is still the M.O. of most women who make it to the top.

Nancy Marley-Clarke"

Talk about a double standard

Marissa Mayer, the new CEO of Yahoo, has built herself a nursery beside her office for her newborn and its nanny, while announcing that no one will be able to work from home any longer.  What a complete pile.

She has just set working women with children back 40 years.  Many of the Yahoo employees who work from home are women with young children.  Now we will be back to the atmosphere of my working years, when I had to lie consistently to balance work and family.  The worst bosses I had, when it came to doing my job and looking after my children, were women.  "I'm all right, Jill", were their watchwords.  An appointment at the school?  That was a dentist appointment for my boss' sake.  A sick child?  I called in sick.  A special sports day?  That was a doctor's appointment.  You absolutely had to lie because working mothers were big targets. 

As I said, the people least sympathetic were female bosses.  I remember being pissed off in the '80s when Mila Mulroney had her last kid and proudly brought it and its nanny to the office.  Why the hell can't I do that?, I wondered.  And Sheila Copps -- the famous "feminist" MP -- did the same.  As for the rest of us -- the great unwashed -- we were not permitted to bring our kids to the office.  Heck, we had to pretend we didn't have any! 

Thanks a bunch, Queen Bee Ms. Mayer.  You have plunged the rest of us schlepping working mothers back into the dark ages.  When I retired, I wrote an email thanking all the many who had mentored, supported and promoted me over 42 years.  Looking at the note I said, "B, there are no women on this list!?"  And there wasn't one woman's name on it.  Can that have been?  Yes, it was absolutely true.  Of all the women I worked for, not one ever reached down into the trenches to lend me a hand up.  To the contrary, many went out of their way to either sabotage my efforts, or take credit for my accomplishments.  As I have said, never underestimate envy in the workplace. 

Men, on the other hand, were only too glad to take on someone who could do something better than they.  Maybe it was because I had such a hectic family life with four kids, but I always pounced on the chance to hire a woman (or man) who could unburden me from a time-consuming task I wasn't particularly good at.  (Thank you Christine M. and Joythi L. and Lise B. and Lilly H. and Marilyn D. and Mary H. and Winnie M. and the countless other talented women who saved my bacon over many years.)  

As for me?  Whatever I did, I managed it all with God-given talent and the help and support of enlightened men.          

Goodbye to the penny

It is bizarre that Canada is doing away with the penny -- or what my grandmother Stapledon used to call the "copper".  With her own way of speaking, she always used that word.  She also used to say something was "very dear" if it were expensive. 

She was old-world to the core.  Never without a hat and matching dress, Lillian (Lord) Stapledon was the matriarch of our clan.  Crippled with arthritis, she used a cane, but still looked stately.  One creature that always facinated me was her fox stole.  It was a real fox, with head, eyes, tail, claws and legs.  She wore it around her neck like something taxidermed.  It stared at me.  For some reason, of the six of us, I ended up being given her precious wedding ring, which I proudly wear every day.  Having misplaced it at the nursing home, she cried day and night until it was found.  I am also the wearer of my grandfather's bloodstone signet ring. 

But, back to the "copper".  There must be millions of dollars in coppers in piggy banks, pockets and kitchen drawers all over the country.  Get yours out before it's too late.   

Not gonna happen

The Keystone pipeline is as dead as a door nail.  Nevertheless, Redford is stuck to it like a fly to paper.  The US just released yet another report about how damaging it will be, just as deaf Alison was in Washington lobbying...for...oops....a defeat. 

To make matters worse, Canada also released a report saying that Alberta was not even close to meeting its own safety and environmental standards.  Here a spill, there a spill, everywhere a spill-spill............She looks like the complete fool she is.

Canada and Alberta should forget about pipelines, they are finished.  Move on.  If it's not the Indians blockading and drumming, it's the environmental freaks staging sit-ins.   An above-ground rail line dedicated to getting oil out of Alberta and into Maritime ports is as abhorrent as an underground pipeline.  Forget about it.

The only hope is a deal between Alberta and Saskatchewan to build refining facilities right here in Canada.  Then we could ship refined oil by rail to receptive markets.  By the way, Canada could also be self-suffcient in oil.  (Hello Pierre Trudeau).  Will it happen?  Who the h-ll knows?  But one thing is sure, pipelines are dead.