I have relatives who live in Detroit, and like many Americans, are discontented. Like a few other Americans, they watch and listen to the CBC. Detroit is right across the river.
They listen for what they describe as a more balanced, informed view of the world, untainted by the chronic American need to propagandize. That may be an overstatement, because there is much in U.S. media that is informed and balanced.
I, along with millions of Canadians, religiously watch CBC 60 Minutes. It is an outstanding piece of newsmagazine work. There are times when I prefer The Fifth Estate, but generally 60 Minutes is entertaining and sometimes informative.
I also watch a lot of MSNBC simply for the almost un-American left-leaning bias. And biased they are, sometimes even shrill. They have cashed in on the popularity of President Obama, even as they see his popularity slipping away in the never-ending swamp of American politics and ideology-based “truth.”
I have a new favourite: Power and Politics on the CBC Newsworld’s re-invented format. It is a favourite because of the quality of the host: Evan Solomon. I have always believed that Solomon is the best interviewer on the network, and miles ahead of most American interviewers, even Charlie Rose.
Nowhere was it more evident than in his penetrating and human interview with Canadian journalist-filmmaker Maziar Bahari, only recently released from prison in Iran.
I saw him interviewed on 60 Minutes by Bob Simon, a capable interviewer but no Evan Solomon. 60 Minutes leans toward entertainment, drama, and some politics – often choosing style over substance. Simon did give us a glimpse at the near-death terror inflicted on Bahari but the interview leaned heavily toward political bias. Fundamental to U.S. politics is the obligation to demonize Iran, especially president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and Khomeini. It is all part of America’s declared war on Islamist terror. It is “required” in American television news coverage. That in itself, is not evil or devious. It is America.
It is a trap I have not seen Evan Solomon fall into. In his interview with Bahari he leaned toward the human side of the ordeal of a man, who after 14 years in Iran, was thrown into prison and regularly subjected to threats of execution. It fell to the Solomon interview to have Bahari tell us something we already should knew, that Ahmadinejad has very little power. Because of his preposterous statements he has become a convenient target for anti-Iran politicking. (I do not minimize in any way the threat Iran could pose to the rest of the world.) But Solomon, as he wove his way cleverly through the ordeal, evoked far more real information than Simon on 60 Minutes. The real enemy iS the Revolutonary Guard who have a stranglehold on the Iranian people and negate any possibility of democracy, replacing hope with terror.
60 Minutes entertains. They aleady have one Canadian, Morley Safer, who was drafted many years ago from This Hour Has Seven Days. CBS sent him to Viet Nam, at least partly because with a Canadian passport he would have access to places Americans did not.
Will Evan Solomon with his piercing, trenchant, communicative interviews, be the next recruit?
If you have not seen him, first on his Sunday night gig, and now on Power and Politics, go to Newsworld between 5 and 7 and be delighted with what Canadian TV can do if it wants to.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
ON BEING RUDE AND IMPATIENT
I met an old friend yesterday. He was a kid in radio when I was already a self-described “legend.” Today he is a very successful lawyer and I am someone who once was. He was, and still is, a very funny man. He “did” me – angry, impatient, and abrupt.
When I am asked, which is not often any more, what makes a good Talk Radio host – my answer is “You have to be able to get angry quickly, or in extremis: very angry very quickly. My wife says I am utterly lacking in both patience and tolerance. So be it.
I have just risen angrily from in front of my TV set where I was watching one of my favourites: The Food Network. Was I angry about the food? Certainly not. It was, in fact, very very good. But the cook? That’s another story entirely. It is the story of how they have massacred, and we have let them do it, the English language. Americans, having adopted it as their mother tongue, have proceeded to decimate it, bowdlerize it, misshape it, and mutilate it until it is almost unrecognizable!
The female chef did it all: she said “erb for herb. It is this practice that make Huron and urine homonyms. She referred to “the oil” in the way that civilized people long ago decided that it was not “thuh oil” but “thee oil.” She added baysel – which we call baa-sil, to her salad. The long “a” is especially prevalent in their version of our language.
But how about the "soft" a? They say “plahza” and Viet Naaahm” when it is more correctly Viet Nam – which is how the Vietnamese say it. The paradox is that they abandon the soft "a" when they mispronounce “Adolf” as “Ay-dolf. Then of course there, and it was commented on by an American who equally deplores the destruction – the name of the country In the news as “eye-ran” which is right up there with the English pronunciation of Eye-talian.
One of my favourites is still “hollow-een. As in “Hollowed be thy name…”
One of my saddest realizations is that Canadian commentators on TV seem to have been educated by watching U.S. TV so they Americanize the language also. They say "pruh-meer" for "premiere. Which adds to the fact that is not only Americans who have corrupted “chez longue” into “chez lounge” And “hor’s d’oeuvres into “hor durve” rhyming with curve.
The critics of my hair splitting will tell me that English is always evolving. But the principle of evolution is that we adapt the species to deal with changing conditions. We improve our ability to survive. If that stuff with the language is “improving” I am turning into primordial jelly.
When I am asked, which is not often any more, what makes a good Talk Radio host – my answer is “You have to be able to get angry quickly, or in extremis: very angry very quickly. My wife says I am utterly lacking in both patience and tolerance. So be it.
I have just risen angrily from in front of my TV set where I was watching one of my favourites: The Food Network. Was I angry about the food? Certainly not. It was, in fact, very very good. But the cook? That’s another story entirely. It is the story of how they have massacred, and we have let them do it, the English language. Americans, having adopted it as their mother tongue, have proceeded to decimate it, bowdlerize it, misshape it, and mutilate it until it is almost unrecognizable!
The female chef did it all: she said “erb for herb. It is this practice that make Huron and urine homonyms. She referred to “the oil” in the way that civilized people long ago decided that it was not “thuh oil” but “thee oil.” She added baysel – which we call baa-sil, to her salad. The long “a” is especially prevalent in their version of our language.
But how about the "soft" a? They say “plahza” and Viet Naaahm” when it is more correctly Viet Nam – which is how the Vietnamese say it. The paradox is that they abandon the soft "a" when they mispronounce “Adolf” as “Ay-dolf. Then of course there, and it was commented on by an American who equally deplores the destruction – the name of the country In the news as “eye-ran” which is right up there with the English pronunciation of Eye-talian.
One of my favourites is still “hollow-een. As in “Hollowed be thy name…”
One of my saddest realizations is that Canadian commentators on TV seem to have been educated by watching U.S. TV so they Americanize the language also. They say "pruh-meer" for "premiere. Which adds to the fact that is not only Americans who have corrupted “chez longue” into “chez lounge” And “hor’s d’oeuvres into “hor durve” rhyming with curve.
The critics of my hair splitting will tell me that English is always evolving. But the principle of evolution is that we adapt the species to deal with changing conditions. We improve our ability to survive. If that stuff with the language is “improving” I am turning into primordial jelly.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
MOVE OVER JANET FLANNER
She is remembered by New Yorker readers for her beautifully crafted series about the City of Light. But that was sooooo many years ago, and I promised that this weblog would “look ahead.” And here I go being nostalgic about a writer so few people, except my contemporaries, would remember. In spite of Montréal-born Adam Gopnik, who also wrote from Paris for the New Yorker, and offered a stinging wit that even the great Flanner could not match – I want to do it too.
Yes, I want to do a 2010 version of “Letters from Paris.” How’s that for “looking ahead?” At my age, not only do I want to commit to a regular set of communiqués from Paris, but I want finally to achieve decent fluency in my country’s other language, Granted, the French I speak, and would improve with a stay in Paris, is not the Canadienne version, with it’s delightful twang and elisions, the dropping of half a word, a practice that leaves even the Frenchman wondering what exactly was being said. Not for me is the “bon fin de semaine” that is insisted on by the purists, but rather the very jovial Parisian “Bon week-end.” Rather “Le drug store:” than “pharmacie.” Rather “Hoover” than “respirateur.” But now I am indulging in speculative etymology. (Is there such a word?)
In the spring, all things being equal e.g. no serious health problems or sudden financial collapse, my wife and I will take up residence in the Porte Maillot area, which is just north of the Arc de Triomphe, for at least four months, exchanging with Henri and Michele. They will come to Toronto and we will go to their pied-a-terre, and perhaps to their wonderful home in Chantilly. While they do what they will in Toronto (Henri’s a designer and I am sure he will see all the new architecture that has sprouted here in the last few year) my wife and I will be taking regular French lessons at L”Alliance in Paris. (We will start immersion courses here in December.)
Because we have been to Paris about ten times for periods from five days to three weeks, we will not rush hither and yon for the sights. The Eiffel Tower still startles us. The Louvre intimidates us. The Orangerie and the Musee D’Orsay excite us. We have taken a for-old-times-sake trip on the Seine on the Bateau Mouche and we have walked and walked and walked. We have sat at a café on Rue Mouffetard (where half the people are tourists anyway) and chatted in French with the locals. We have watched the small boys with their boats in the pool at Luxembourg. We have seen the tombs at Pere LaChaise.
At the heart of this “adventure” is my own response to the dictum to be Looking Ahead.
How many years do I have left? That is not my concern. I am not ready to start resting up for the eternal rest. There are new things happening at a rate that statisticians revel in, a rate that increases exponentially with time, a rate that says we can and will learn as much in the next ten years as we have learned in the last one hundred and in that one hundred as much as we have learned since the dawn of history.
The only downside to getting older is the recognition that I will not be able to “see how it all comes out.” But to all who have reached senior years, and more especially to those looking ahead to them. Learn, do, live, experience, grow. Et Bonne Chance.
IF YOU WANT TO CONTACT ME USE THE INTERNET: lsolway@sympatico.ca
Yes, I want to do a 2010 version of “Letters from Paris.” How’s that for “looking ahead?” At my age, not only do I want to commit to a regular set of communiqués from Paris, but I want finally to achieve decent fluency in my country’s other language, Granted, the French I speak, and would improve with a stay in Paris, is not the Canadienne version, with it’s delightful twang and elisions, the dropping of half a word, a practice that leaves even the Frenchman wondering what exactly was being said. Not for me is the “bon fin de semaine” that is insisted on by the purists, but rather the very jovial Parisian “Bon week-end.” Rather “Le drug store:” than “pharmacie.” Rather “Hoover” than “respirateur.” But now I am indulging in speculative etymology. (Is there such a word?)
In the spring, all things being equal e.g. no serious health problems or sudden financial collapse, my wife and I will take up residence in the Porte Maillot area, which is just north of the Arc de Triomphe, for at least four months, exchanging with Henri and Michele. They will come to Toronto and we will go to their pied-a-terre, and perhaps to their wonderful home in Chantilly. While they do what they will in Toronto (Henri’s a designer and I am sure he will see all the new architecture that has sprouted here in the last few year) my wife and I will be taking regular French lessons at L”Alliance in Paris. (We will start immersion courses here in December.)
Because we have been to Paris about ten times for periods from five days to three weeks, we will not rush hither and yon for the sights. The Eiffel Tower still startles us. The Louvre intimidates us. The Orangerie and the Musee D’Orsay excite us. We have taken a for-old-times-sake trip on the Seine on the Bateau Mouche and we have walked and walked and walked. We have sat at a café on Rue Mouffetard (where half the people are tourists anyway) and chatted in French with the locals. We have watched the small boys with their boats in the pool at Luxembourg. We have seen the tombs at Pere LaChaise.
At the heart of this “adventure” is my own response to the dictum to be Looking Ahead.
How many years do I have left? That is not my concern. I am not ready to start resting up for the eternal rest. There are new things happening at a rate that statisticians revel in, a rate that increases exponentially with time, a rate that says we can and will learn as much in the next ten years as we have learned in the last one hundred and in that one hundred as much as we have learned since the dawn of history.
The only downside to getting older is the recognition that I will not be able to “see how it all comes out.” But to all who have reached senior years, and more especially to those looking ahead to them. Learn, do, live, experience, grow. Et Bonne Chance.
IF YOU WANT TO CONTACT ME USE THE INTERNET: lsolway@sympatico.ca
Thursday, November 12, 2009
STAYCATIONS
I have become a fan of stay-at-home travel.
To the dismay of the travel-dependent companies: cruise lines, airlines, hotels, restaurants etc. the new word for travel is “staycation.” The Americans have coined it. No one more than Americans have reacted so vigourously to the economic downturn. They have pulled back their discretionary spending to the point that many travel organization s are offering to-good=to=-miss bargains. In a similar way, companies like Remax TV commercials claiming you need a kick in the pants not to invest in the current real estate market.
Everywhere, those who are still standing are looking for bargains. Hence the “staycation.” Between the worst recessions since 1929 and the fear of travel to countries that appear to be anti-American, a nation of travelers has reduced their travel. Not only have trips abroad tumbled, but even the distances traveled within their own country, have been reduced. Stay at home or staycation has become popular.
It is true that it is far less expensive to “discover” your own backyard, than to fly off to exotic places. For the past two weeks my wife and I have sallied forth into our own Ontario countryside. Two weeks ago we did one overnight in the Elora region. I had forgotten how beautiful the rolling lush farmland north of Kitchener could be. (If we were driving through Tuscany we would marvel at the beautiful view.) We don’t have to. An afternoon in tourist-favourite St. Jacobs included a visit to the shoppes at The Silo where we gawked and bought. A new hall carpet and asset of table place mats. Then off to a glassmaker where we did it again, adding to our collection of art glass. In Elora, we visited the scène of our previous glass purchase. My wife cautioned me against more spending. I reacted with: “If something jumps off the shelf and says “buy me,” how can I resist. We didn’t buy this time, but the young woman operating the shop advised us to head across the road for dinner. (The shop person has, by the way, a Masters in History and is working on a doctorate in Library Science.) The restaurant was “Whispers” and a surprisingly good one it was, comparable to any chic big city eatery.
So pleased were we that we did it again the following week. This time to “discover” the new “Art and Wine Trail” that begins at Wooler road at the 401 highway west of Belleville and winds its way along the Loyalist Parkway to Picton.
It was out of season so some of the wineries were not open for tasting and buying. We found two that were, located in and around Hillier. The Chardonnay is exquisite, with an undertaste of apples and pears. The red lack some maturity but time alone is on the side of a vineyard, and soon the reds will compete.
The Loyalist Trail takes us through Wellington, once a thriving fishing village, now home to at least a dozen fine galleries. Yes, we did it again: more are glass “jumped” off the shelf.
The buying spree continued at the “Maker’s Hand” craft show in Picton. Mark Armstrong, the glassmaker from Wellington was there and we spent more money. This spending “spree” may seem to be the height of prodigality, but you have to remember that there is no airfare to pay, and no high priced resort hotels, which is what a Staycation is all about.
Maybe the best in newly-chic Picton was Currah’s restaurant. You simply don’t expect this level of gourmet quality in a small town, even though the tourists abound. The dinner was spectacular. My pickerel was superb and topped with a magic chutney sauce which included tender capers. The waiter would not divulge the other ingredients.
Neither of us are big fans of touring when the crowds are at their peak. We prefer the off-season times when most of the facilities are still up and running, and access is easier.
Having extolled the virtues of close-to-home travel, I am embarrassed to report that come next spring we will be spending (via exchange) four months in Paris. But even that will be a staycation. We also exchange cars so our French visitors can cruise Ontario, and we can drive to Provence. The only expense in air fare. And I’m hoping the French Healthy Care system will embrace me.
To the dismay of the travel-dependent companies: cruise lines, airlines, hotels, restaurants etc. the new word for travel is “staycation.” The Americans have coined it. No one more than Americans have reacted so vigourously to the economic downturn. They have pulled back their discretionary spending to the point that many travel organization s are offering to-good=to=-miss bargains. In a similar way, companies like Remax TV commercials claiming you need a kick in the pants not to invest in the current real estate market.
Everywhere, those who are still standing are looking for bargains. Hence the “staycation.” Between the worst recessions since 1929 and the fear of travel to countries that appear to be anti-American, a nation of travelers has reduced their travel. Not only have trips abroad tumbled, but even the distances traveled within their own country, have been reduced. Stay at home or staycation has become popular.
It is true that it is far less expensive to “discover” your own backyard, than to fly off to exotic places. For the past two weeks my wife and I have sallied forth into our own Ontario countryside. Two weeks ago we did one overnight in the Elora region. I had forgotten how beautiful the rolling lush farmland north of Kitchener could be. (If we were driving through Tuscany we would marvel at the beautiful view.) We don’t have to. An afternoon in tourist-favourite St. Jacobs included a visit to the shoppes at The Silo where we gawked and bought. A new hall carpet and asset of table place mats. Then off to a glassmaker where we did it again, adding to our collection of art glass. In Elora, we visited the scène of our previous glass purchase. My wife cautioned me against more spending. I reacted with: “If something jumps off the shelf and says “buy me,” how can I resist. We didn’t buy this time, but the young woman operating the shop advised us to head across the road for dinner. (The shop person has, by the way, a Masters in History and is working on a doctorate in Library Science.) The restaurant was “Whispers” and a surprisingly good one it was, comparable to any chic big city eatery.
So pleased were we that we did it again the following week. This time to “discover” the new “Art and Wine Trail” that begins at Wooler road at the 401 highway west of Belleville and winds its way along the Loyalist Parkway to Picton.
It was out of season so some of the wineries were not open for tasting and buying. We found two that were, located in and around Hillier. The Chardonnay is exquisite, with an undertaste of apples and pears. The red lack some maturity but time alone is on the side of a vineyard, and soon the reds will compete.
The Loyalist Trail takes us through Wellington, once a thriving fishing village, now home to at least a dozen fine galleries. Yes, we did it again: more are glass “jumped” off the shelf.
The buying spree continued at the “Maker’s Hand” craft show in Picton. Mark Armstrong, the glassmaker from Wellington was there and we spent more money. This spending “spree” may seem to be the height of prodigality, but you have to remember that there is no airfare to pay, and no high priced resort hotels, which is what a Staycation is all about.
Maybe the best in newly-chic Picton was Currah’s restaurant. You simply don’t expect this level of gourmet quality in a small town, even though the tourists abound. The dinner was spectacular. My pickerel was superb and topped with a magic chutney sauce which included tender capers. The waiter would not divulge the other ingredients.
Neither of us are big fans of touring when the crowds are at their peak. We prefer the off-season times when most of the facilities are still up and running, and access is easier.
Having extolled the virtues of close-to-home travel, I am embarrassed to report that come next spring we will be spending (via exchange) four months in Paris. But even that will be a staycation. We also exchange cars so our French visitors can cruise Ontario, and we can drive to Provence. The only expense in air fare. And I’m hoping the French Healthy Care system will embrace me.
STIMULUS OR STAGNATION
It doesn’t seem to be working. rOBERT rEICH, former Labour Secretary in the Clinton administration, claims that the real unemployment figure is closer to 20%! Wow.
There is a paradox here. If the “engine” of recovery is the private sector, why has the stimulus not been reflected in more jobs? Simple. Companies in a down market can only hope to improve their financial bottom line by instituting economies and the major cost in running any company is labour cost – from, the over-paid CEO to the hard-working serf at the bottom of the feeding chart.
It is no surprise that productivity is up. “Productivity” is a code word for getting more work from fewer people. In the long run the policy is self-destructive because it erodes the energy and ambition of the people working under close to sweat shop conditions.
I don’t blame business for this. They’re in business to do business. They’re in business to show a profit. That’s at the heart of the capitalist system, which is not all bad, in spite of the greed of Wall Street. I’m waiting to see the movie sequel to “greed is good” as Hollywood gives us Gecko (played by Michael Douglas) recreated in the age of economic chaos.
Governments are not making the best use of their stimulus programs. The principal objective is to improve corporate balance sheets and in the “rising-tide-lifts-all-boats philosophy, the stimulus will filter down to the unemployed.
There is a better idea. Instead of increasing Employment Insurance, or increasing the length of time it can be paid, present employers with an opportunity to help return us to full employment. Critics of job-sharing suggest that cutting back on payroll lets the best workers thrive and the others fall by the wayside. (Of course, in a unionized situation, there is to merit clause in the laying off or rehiring of employees.)
To make the economy work; to revive retail sales; to create new consumer confidence, the jobless numbers must go down. Stimulus as it plays out does not do the job. If we can increase the number of people working, we can recover. You have already guessed where I’m heading. Government, instead of paying out billions to the unemployed, uses that money to supplement incomes. It would be a confidence-booster. By reducing the size of each worker’s work week, and replacing those lost hours with work for someone who has been laid off, will cause us to return to optimistic prosperity. I haven’t done the math, but it would seem to me that the same money paid as unemployment insurance used instead to ramp up reduced income would keep more people working and not cost government any more money that is already being spent to support the unemployed.
The hitch is of course, that it takes employment policy out of the hands of the corporations and gives it to government. So here we go again with critics of the "nanny” state bellowing their protests.
The truth is that we need government. Who else will do it?
There is a paradox here. If the “engine” of recovery is the private sector, why has the stimulus not been reflected in more jobs? Simple. Companies in a down market can only hope to improve their financial bottom line by instituting economies and the major cost in running any company is labour cost – from, the over-paid CEO to the hard-working serf at the bottom of the feeding chart.
It is no surprise that productivity is up. “Productivity” is a code word for getting more work from fewer people. In the long run the policy is self-destructive because it erodes the energy and ambition of the people working under close to sweat shop conditions.
I don’t blame business for this. They’re in business to do business. They’re in business to show a profit. That’s at the heart of the capitalist system, which is not all bad, in spite of the greed of Wall Street. I’m waiting to see the movie sequel to “greed is good” as Hollywood gives us Gecko (played by Michael Douglas) recreated in the age of economic chaos.
Governments are not making the best use of their stimulus programs. The principal objective is to improve corporate balance sheets and in the “rising-tide-lifts-all-boats philosophy, the stimulus will filter down to the unemployed.
There is a better idea. Instead of increasing Employment Insurance, or increasing the length of time it can be paid, present employers with an opportunity to help return us to full employment. Critics of job-sharing suggest that cutting back on payroll lets the best workers thrive and the others fall by the wayside. (Of course, in a unionized situation, there is to merit clause in the laying off or rehiring of employees.)
To make the economy work; to revive retail sales; to create new consumer confidence, the jobless numbers must go down. Stimulus as it plays out does not do the job. If we can increase the number of people working, we can recover. You have already guessed where I’m heading. Government, instead of paying out billions to the unemployed, uses that money to supplement incomes. It would be a confidence-booster. By reducing the size of each worker’s work week, and replacing those lost hours with work for someone who has been laid off, will cause us to return to optimistic prosperity. I haven’t done the math, but it would seem to me that the same money paid as unemployment insurance used instead to ramp up reduced income would keep more people working and not cost government any more money that is already being spent to support the unemployed.
The hitch is of course, that it takes employment policy out of the hands of the corporations and gives it to government. So here we go again with critics of the "nanny” state bellowing their protests.
The truth is that we need government. Who else will do it?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
THEM THAR HILLS
I have a friend who went “long” on gold several hundred dollars ago. If I had taken his advice I would be looking at pretty good profits today. But I didn’t. Putting your money in gold realizes no income, just possible capital gain, or – bubble-bursting time – ruin. (Remember when those scoundrelly Hunt brothers – Lamar and Nelson Bunker - “cornered” the silver market a few years ago. People were buying Canadian dimes and melting them down for their silver content. I even considered disposing of our sterling silver cutlery. The bubble burst and the Hunt brothers were indicted.) But the gold rush is real!
Now it has taken on a new dimension. “See you at a gold party!” The new Tupperware is here, and it is old chains, rings, anything that is gold. I arrive late on this one. Am I the last to notice the ads? Am I lagging behind the rest of the world?
While poking around through the New York Times on the web, I noticed an ad for Toronto gold parties. I had an inkling about what w=it would be. Hey, I’m not from Mars and I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I’m hip. I’m today. I am not surprised at gold selling about a thousand dollars an ounce. But this is simply too much.
This company is like the old Tupperware or Mary Kay cosmetics with get-together parties. And you can host your own gold party.and get a commission on every transaction.
Everyone wants your gold. The biggest new arrival in TV commercials is the send-m-your-gold guy. Cash for old stuff. And what I read is that a company in Switzerland melts down tons of gold and resells it in 100 gram bars or big ingots. The hunger for gold is worldwide, and all because of the decline of the American dollar, the worry that inflation will rear it’s ugly, and that continuing stimulus will increase deficits and make cash worth less. (as opposed to worthless.)
I am struck dumb. I know, and so do most people, that most of the gold that has ever been smelted is still around. Not all of it is accessible, like the tons of the stuff that is in Spanish gold galleons resting at the bottom of the sea, or in traveling museum shows like King Tut (which comes to Toronto’s AGO soon.). Can you imagine the money that is being invested in treasure hunting? I’m waiting to see figures about another boom and a bonanza for more scoundrels.
Gold is magic. As a metal is has many virtues, but as a symbol it has even more.
It is not without reason that the legend of King Midas has been a favourite for generations. We are emotional about gold. We are hysterical about gold.
Now we can actual get in on the action. I wonder if I should host a “bring-me-your-gold party.” Someone out there is getting rich. It sure as H isn’t me!
Now it has taken on a new dimension. “See you at a gold party!” The new Tupperware is here, and it is old chains, rings, anything that is gold. I arrive late on this one. Am I the last to notice the ads? Am I lagging behind the rest of the world?
While poking around through the New York Times on the web, I noticed an ad for Toronto gold parties. I had an inkling about what w=it would be. Hey, I’m not from Mars and I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I’m hip. I’m today. I am not surprised at gold selling about a thousand dollars an ounce. But this is simply too much.
This company is like the old Tupperware or Mary Kay cosmetics with get-together parties. And you can host your own gold party.and get a commission on every transaction.
Everyone wants your gold. The biggest new arrival in TV commercials is the send-m-your-gold guy. Cash for old stuff. And what I read is that a company in Switzerland melts down tons of gold and resells it in 100 gram bars or big ingots. The hunger for gold is worldwide, and all because of the decline of the American dollar, the worry that inflation will rear it’s ugly, and that continuing stimulus will increase deficits and make cash worth less. (as opposed to worthless.)
I am struck dumb. I know, and so do most people, that most of the gold that has ever been smelted is still around. Not all of it is accessible, like the tons of the stuff that is in Spanish gold galleons resting at the bottom of the sea, or in traveling museum shows like King Tut (which comes to Toronto’s AGO soon.). Can you imagine the money that is being invested in treasure hunting? I’m waiting to see figures about another boom and a bonanza for more scoundrels.
Gold is magic. As a metal is has many virtues, but as a symbol it has even more.
It is not without reason that the legend of King Midas has been a favourite for generations. We are emotional about gold. We are hysterical about gold.
Now we can actual get in on the action. I wonder if I should host a “bring-me-your-gold party.” Someone out there is getting rich. It sure as H isn’t me!
DIALOGUE OF THE DEAF
Critics of the monumental stand-off between “democracy” and the fanaticism of the Islamists (as opposed to the everyday Muslim who believes but continues to live in a civilized way) say that there is no possibility that the gap can be bridged. The ideological and religious differences are so extreme that it will be impossible to build a bridge. (I put democracy in quotes because not all our friends are anything like democracies – i.e. Saudi Arabia)
The same critics believe that all of us should pull out of Afghanistan and leave it to the Afghans to solve their problems. In short, we are simply no good at nation-building, especially against a background of fanaticism and ideological absolutism.
Critics like to suggest that the flash point is the State of Israel, an alien nation in an Arab world, and that somehow, if the state did not exist, the stalemate would disappear. Tom Friedman, writing in the New York Times, makes this trenchant comment: “Today, the Arabs, Israel and the Palestinians are clearly not feeling enough pain to do anything hard for peace with each other — a mood best summed up by a phrase making the rounds at the State Department: The Palestinian leadership “wants a deal with Israel without any negotiations” and Israel’s leadership “wants negotiations with the Palestinians without any deal.”
I agree – somewhat. There is no negotiation either with the extreme orthodox Israelis who believe that “God gave them the land” or the equally extreme Islamists who believe that America is on a war against Islam and the Crusades are still alive and well.
President Bush took a stand that implicitly suggested a kind of Armageddon between the dark and the light, between enlightened Christian democracy and blighted Islamic intractability.
Friedman is wrong. Bush was – well let’s not even talk about him.
The fact is that it makes political good sense for the Muslim world (I avoid the word “Arab” because Iran is not Arabic) wants to see the end of Israel, which, for political purposes, they view, not as an island of democracy in a sea of absolutism, but as a puppet of American oil-crazy imperialism.
Israel obliges by continuing expansion of their settlements in the West Bank. Israelis say it is not expansion” but the improvement of existing settlements. Quibbling over what they are doing doesn’t add light to the darkness.
The only light will have to come from an initiative so massive, so generous, and so workable, that neither side could resist. Only America, with the support of the reluctant Chinese, Russians – and even Iranians, has the financial power to make it happen.
To continue to revile Hezbollah and Hamas does nothing. To quibble over “war crimes” in Gaza does nothing.
Only to turn an entirely new page will work. Only to fund and support a Palestinian state will work. Or will any success in that direction magnify the reality: the fight is not over a Palestinian State or the survival of Israel – it is still the almost Armageddon between suicide bombers and the “democracies” of the developed world?
We need change. We need a whole new vocabulary. We need change on both sides, backed by political will and money.
The same critics believe that all of us should pull out of Afghanistan and leave it to the Afghans to solve their problems. In short, we are simply no good at nation-building, especially against a background of fanaticism and ideological absolutism.
Critics like to suggest that the flash point is the State of Israel, an alien nation in an Arab world, and that somehow, if the state did not exist, the stalemate would disappear. Tom Friedman, writing in the New York Times, makes this trenchant comment: “Today, the Arabs, Israel and the Palestinians are clearly not feeling enough pain to do anything hard for peace with each other — a mood best summed up by a phrase making the rounds at the State Department: The Palestinian leadership “wants a deal with Israel without any negotiations” and Israel’s leadership “wants negotiations with the Palestinians without any deal.”
I agree – somewhat. There is no negotiation either with the extreme orthodox Israelis who believe that “God gave them the land” or the equally extreme Islamists who believe that America is on a war against Islam and the Crusades are still alive and well.
President Bush took a stand that implicitly suggested a kind of Armageddon between the dark and the light, between enlightened Christian democracy and blighted Islamic intractability.
Friedman is wrong. Bush was – well let’s not even talk about him.
The fact is that it makes political good sense for the Muslim world (I avoid the word “Arab” because Iran is not Arabic) wants to see the end of Israel, which, for political purposes, they view, not as an island of democracy in a sea of absolutism, but as a puppet of American oil-crazy imperialism.
Israel obliges by continuing expansion of their settlements in the West Bank. Israelis say it is not expansion” but the improvement of existing settlements. Quibbling over what they are doing doesn’t add light to the darkness.
The only light will have to come from an initiative so massive, so generous, and so workable, that neither side could resist. Only America, with the support of the reluctant Chinese, Russians – and even Iranians, has the financial power to make it happen.
To continue to revile Hezbollah and Hamas does nothing. To quibble over “war crimes” in Gaza does nothing.
Only to turn an entirely new page will work. Only to fund and support a Palestinian state will work. Or will any success in that direction magnify the reality: the fight is not over a Palestinian State or the survival of Israel – it is still the almost Armageddon between suicide bombers and the “democracies” of the developed world?
We need change. We need a whole new vocabulary. We need change on both sides, backed by political will and money.
GOVERNING CAN BE DANGEROUS TO YOUR (POLITICAL) HEALTH.
The House of Commons voted to repeal the Long Gun Registration Act. (It’s still only 2nd reading and has to go to committee and the Senate so there are still many hurdles ahead) I am horrified. Not by the choice to abandon a costly boondoggle, but that our politicians echo American Congressmen who vote only the way their constituents want them to. The best example is the passing i8n the House of the new Health Care legislation. Commenting is this from the New York Times: “The Democrats who balked at the measure represent mainly conservative swing districts, signaling that those who could be vulnerable in next year’s midterm elections viewed voting for the measure as politically risky. “
But we come from a long parliamentary tradition of “voting our conscience.” Yes, I know – when the party leader says “jump” you do as you are told. Party discipline often wins out. But when push comes to persuasion, it comes back to staying politically wise enough with your vote to be re-elected. But in an open vote, there is no party discipline. It comes down to doing what politicians should do best: vote for what he/she believes in.
The issue evokes the so-often-repeated stand taken by Edmund Burke, M.P. Bristol. He supported an issue related to Free Trade with Ireland. His constituents opposed him. In his famous statement he said: "If, from this conduct, I shall forfeit their suffrages at an ensuing election, it will stand on record an example to future representatives of the Commons of England, that one man at least had dared to resist the desires of his constituents when his judgment assured him they were wrong"
Even though Burke is considered the real founder of modern conservatism, his words ring true. He voted his conscience. It cost him his seat in the next election.
So I do wonder why of our own M.P.s there are those, especially on the Left, who voted with the government, citing the “fact” that theirs is a rural constituency and voters there own guns.
On the issue itself I have never understood the passion of the opposition. Is it because the system has already wasted $2 billion? Perhaps. Is it because, echoing the campaign by the N.R.A. claiming that that the first step in confiscating guns is registration. The NRA always cites Hitler Germany as an example of what gun registration does to the “rights” of people.
The fatal flaw in the opposition is the notion that you somehow will be deprived of your right to own a gun. If that is true we should also believe that having to register your dog will lead to confiscation of the dog. Like dogs, we like to know where the guns are. No one questions the right to own a shotgun. No one questions the right to get married either – but you do have to buy a license.
The interesting paradox here is that the most traditionally conservative group in society – the police – support gun registry and insist that it has already been helpful to them. The paradox is that the naysayers are the first to crow: “Our cops are tops.”
But we come from a long parliamentary tradition of “voting our conscience.” Yes, I know – when the party leader says “jump” you do as you are told. Party discipline often wins out. But when push comes to persuasion, it comes back to staying politically wise enough with your vote to be re-elected. But in an open vote, there is no party discipline. It comes down to doing what politicians should do best: vote for what he/she believes in.
The issue evokes the so-often-repeated stand taken by Edmund Burke, M.P. Bristol. He supported an issue related to Free Trade with Ireland. His constituents opposed him. In his famous statement he said: "If, from this conduct, I shall forfeit their suffrages at an ensuing election, it will stand on record an example to future representatives of the Commons of England, that one man at least had dared to resist the desires of his constituents when his judgment assured him they were wrong"
Even though Burke is considered the real founder of modern conservatism, his words ring true. He voted his conscience. It cost him his seat in the next election.
So I do wonder why of our own M.P.s there are those, especially on the Left, who voted with the government, citing the “fact” that theirs is a rural constituency and voters there own guns.
On the issue itself I have never understood the passion of the opposition. Is it because the system has already wasted $2 billion? Perhaps. Is it because, echoing the campaign by the N.R.A. claiming that that the first step in confiscating guns is registration. The NRA always cites Hitler Germany as an example of what gun registration does to the “rights” of people.
The fatal flaw in the opposition is the notion that you somehow will be deprived of your right to own a gun. If that is true we should also believe that having to register your dog will lead to confiscation of the dog. Like dogs, we like to know where the guns are. No one questions the right to own a shotgun. No one questions the right to get married either – but you do have to buy a license.
The interesting paradox here is that the most traditionally conservative group in society – the police – support gun registry and insist that it has already been helpful to them. The paradox is that the naysayers are the first to crow: “Our cops are tops.”
Sunday, November 1, 2009
WE'RE PEOPLE TOO
For more years than I like to admit, I have railed about getting older and becoming irrelevant. Boy, I am fed up hearing it. Imagine how everyone else, even people with unlimited patience, must feel. My kids. My friends. Complete strangers who make the mistake of remembering me. Like Webb, the co-owner of a B&B in Maryhill who fell into the trap when he said: “You’re Larry Solway. (my VISA card says “Lawrence.”) “I always liked your commentaries.”
Here I go again!
He may have said “I always listened to your commentaries.”
My other response is, thinking to be funny by poking fun at myself: “You’re not old enough to remember me…etc.”
What my friends are most tired of hearing, especially those who by some miracle that has passed me by, are still working, is: “It’s terrible to become irrelevant. I’m not out-of-touch, but no one believes me.” Hey Larry – stand that up against your constant railing about “kids” (anyone under 40) who are hotwired to their IPods or spend hours text messaging, or have conversations that display rank indifference to the “real” world. No wonder they think you’re irrelevant!
I have had my time in the spotlight. I used it. The spotlight went out. Whatever happened, it happened. It is a fact. No amount of elderly carping will change it.
I have had an awakening. (Here we go again you say!) Not an epiphany, a kind of eureka moment of sudden discovery, more like a dawning, a slow and steady arrival of light.
Last week my wife and I went on a brief tour of some of Ontario’s prettiest country, the area generally referred to as “Mennonite” country – the rolling lush farmlands north of Kitchener, which is where I met Webb at his B&B. After he realized who I used to be he asked: “Are you still on the air?” It’s a question I am always asked. My reply, trying not to sound irritated: “No one asks me any more.”
Whining gets you nowhere. It closes more doors than it opens. It makes me think of dismissive comments like: “You want a friend? Go get a dog.”
Originally this was going to be an Email to someone at CBC Radio to present an idea for a show called “We’re People Too.” Not, I pray, another advocacy program trumpeting the rights of seniors and threatening government with Grey Power political action.
No. It would be about older people, for older people, but even more, for the families, the caregivers, and the ones like my own family, who all too often have to listen to me rail against real and imagined ills. Intolerance is still one of my major (?) assets!
There is a great need for younger people (by that I mean “youngsters” in their 40s and 50s) to learn how to cope with older folks while we older folks learn to cope, not just with each other, but with a very fast-changing world.
I wrote about all this in the book “Don’t Be Blindsided by Retirement.” I have tried to take charge of my life. There are millions like me. There are more millions who will soon be like me, And there are today millions who are care-givers because they are family. I want to turn this dialogue into a regular radio show which would include other seniors, geriatric specialists, and especially the kids and families of the CARPing generation. If you have a contact button you could push - I'd like that.
As Joan Rivers always says: “Can we talk?”
Here I go again!
He may have said “I always listened to your commentaries.”
My other response is, thinking to be funny by poking fun at myself: “You’re not old enough to remember me…etc.”
What my friends are most tired of hearing, especially those who by some miracle that has passed me by, are still working, is: “It’s terrible to become irrelevant. I’m not out-of-touch, but no one believes me.” Hey Larry – stand that up against your constant railing about “kids” (anyone under 40) who are hotwired to their IPods or spend hours text messaging, or have conversations that display rank indifference to the “real” world. No wonder they think you’re irrelevant!
I have had my time in the spotlight. I used it. The spotlight went out. Whatever happened, it happened. It is a fact. No amount of elderly carping will change it.
I have had an awakening. (Here we go again you say!) Not an epiphany, a kind of eureka moment of sudden discovery, more like a dawning, a slow and steady arrival of light.
Last week my wife and I went on a brief tour of some of Ontario’s prettiest country, the area generally referred to as “Mennonite” country – the rolling lush farmlands north of Kitchener, which is where I met Webb at his B&B. After he realized who I used to be he asked: “Are you still on the air?” It’s a question I am always asked. My reply, trying not to sound irritated: “No one asks me any more.”
Whining gets you nowhere. It closes more doors than it opens. It makes me think of dismissive comments like: “You want a friend? Go get a dog.”
Originally this was going to be an Email to someone at CBC Radio to present an idea for a show called “We’re People Too.” Not, I pray, another advocacy program trumpeting the rights of seniors and threatening government with Grey Power political action.
No. It would be about older people, for older people, but even more, for the families, the caregivers, and the ones like my own family, who all too often have to listen to me rail against real and imagined ills. Intolerance is still one of my major (?) assets!
There is a great need for younger people (by that I mean “youngsters” in their 40s and 50s) to learn how to cope with older folks while we older folks learn to cope, not just with each other, but with a very fast-changing world.
I wrote about all this in the book “Don’t Be Blindsided by Retirement.” I have tried to take charge of my life. There are millions like me. There are more millions who will soon be like me, And there are today millions who are care-givers because they are family. I want to turn this dialogue into a regular radio show which would include other seniors, geriatric specialists, and especially the kids and families of the CARPing generation. If you have a contact button you could push - I'd like that.
As Joan Rivers always says: “Can we talk?”
WHAT'S HAPPY ABOUT HALLOWE'EN?
Is it just me? Or have we gone completely daffy? I can understand Merry Christmas or Happy Birthday, but what on earth are we doing wishing everyone a “happy Hallowe’en?
Every time there is a special date on the calendar we break out in joyous greeting – signifying absolutely nothing. I am waiting (but I haven’t looked recently so this comment may be obsolete) for the greeting card folks to start printing cards to welcome in Hallowe’en.
I have to bet that not one in a hundred of the cutely dressed up little kids (reflecting revenues in the billions for people who make rubber masks and broomsticks) have any idea what the night is all about.
Quite frankly, neither did I. Well, I knew, but I didn’t recognize what I knew. It was when my wife and I happened to be in Paris one year on November 1st and many of the shops were closed. One restaurant had a skeleton staff. “Why,” I asked naively. The person serving us seemed a bit taken aback: “Mais Monsieur, c'est Toussaintes(I’m not sure I've spelled it right.)
“Of course,” I said, faking forgetfulness.
In France, where the anticlerical movement has a long history and where Descartes and his early Existentialism overshadowed the Divine and led generations of Frenchmen in another spiritual direction, one would not expect so much religious observance.
But here it was. Of course, if the night for goblins and ghosts and witches is actually All Soul’s Day night and the following day is All Saint’s Day, then the day has meaning.
But I suppose the “celebration” is as misdirected as the fact that the Easter Bunny has replaced the Cross as a symbol of Death and Resurrection. Perhaps it’s the overriding pagan influence on religion. The bunny is a sign of sparing and, being a very fertile, fecund creature, a symbol of re-birth. I’m not quite certain why the Danse Macabre of Hallowe'en is pagan, but it probably is.
Having just finished reading (in fact - trudging through) The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown, I developed a larger understanding of the relationship between ancient wisdom and present-day religion. Brown, once he establishes his patented method of suspense, embarks on a tedious, lengthy, preachy look at “The Word” and the wisdom of the ancients and how it has transmuted itself into modern beliefs. (I find that to be an oxymoron - there is nothing “modern” about some of the things people believe so devoutly.)
While I’m at it – how come so many Canadian TV news people call it “Hollow e’en?”
Oh well, they are part of a generation that has grown up being educated by watching
U.S. TV. “Hollow” and “Hallow” I think, are still two different words.
Aha! In one gestalt moments I see it all. The truth is revealed. In fact the American pronunciation reflects the truth: the day and it’s meaning have become quite “hollow.”
So to you – Happy Hallowe’en. Happy Labour Day and Happy Ides of March.
Every time there is a special date on the calendar we break out in joyous greeting – signifying absolutely nothing. I am waiting (but I haven’t looked recently so this comment may be obsolete) for the greeting card folks to start printing cards to welcome in Hallowe’en.
I have to bet that not one in a hundred of the cutely dressed up little kids (reflecting revenues in the billions for people who make rubber masks and broomsticks) have any idea what the night is all about.
Quite frankly, neither did I. Well, I knew, but I didn’t recognize what I knew. It was when my wife and I happened to be in Paris one year on November 1st and many of the shops were closed. One restaurant had a skeleton staff. “Why,” I asked naively. The person serving us seemed a bit taken aback: “Mais Monsieur, c'est Toussaintes(I’m not sure I've spelled it right.)
“Of course,” I said, faking forgetfulness.
In France, where the anticlerical movement has a long history and where Descartes and his early Existentialism overshadowed the Divine and led generations of Frenchmen in another spiritual direction, one would not expect so much religious observance.
But here it was. Of course, if the night for goblins and ghosts and witches is actually All Soul’s Day night and the following day is All Saint’s Day, then the day has meaning.
But I suppose the “celebration” is as misdirected as the fact that the Easter Bunny has replaced the Cross as a symbol of Death and Resurrection. Perhaps it’s the overriding pagan influence on religion. The bunny is a sign of sparing and, being a very fertile, fecund creature, a symbol of re-birth. I’m not quite certain why the Danse Macabre of Hallowe'en is pagan, but it probably is.
Having just finished reading (in fact - trudging through) The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown, I developed a larger understanding of the relationship between ancient wisdom and present-day religion. Brown, once he establishes his patented method of suspense, embarks on a tedious, lengthy, preachy look at “The Word” and the wisdom of the ancients and how it has transmuted itself into modern beliefs. (I find that to be an oxymoron - there is nothing “modern” about some of the things people believe so devoutly.)
While I’m at it – how come so many Canadian TV news people call it “Hollow e’en?”
Oh well, they are part of a generation that has grown up being educated by watching
U.S. TV. “Hollow” and “Hallow” I think, are still two different words.
Aha! In one gestalt moments I see it all. The truth is revealed. In fact the American pronunciation reflects the truth: the day and it’s meaning have become quite “hollow.”
So to you – Happy Hallowe’en. Happy Labour Day and Happy Ides of March.
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