Shaming us All

Shaming us all


By Janice Kennedy, Citizen SpecialDecember 27, 2009Comments (28)



The news has been filled lately with many important stories, what with the transgressions of Tiger Woods and the impending nuptials of Mike Fisher and Carrie Underwood. (And hey, kids. Congratulations.)
In fact, there's been so much important front-page news that other things have, of necessity, been buried. So you may have missed the story about our federal government and a bunch of Christian do-gooders.
Our government -- or, more accurately, the triad of Prime Minister Stephen Harper, Immigration Minister Jason Kenney and Bev Oda, minister for the Canadian International Development Agency -- have cut off funding (to the tune of $7 million) to KAIROS, the ecumenical Christian organization that works for peace, development and social justice in hard places around the world.
The organization (which counts among its members the Anglican, Evangelical Lutheran, Presbyterian and United churches of Canada, as well as Quakers, Mennonites and Catholics, including bishops) has been receiving funding for its international projects for 35 years through CIDA and fully expected to receive it for its latest proposal.
Its dual focus for 2009-2013 was on human rights and ecological sustainability, and it had been approved by CIDA at each level of submission -- until Nov. 30. That's when KAIROS was suddenly informed (after being made to wait two extra months after the deadline) that the proposal did not fit "CIDA priorities." In short, no money.
That's bad enough. Given KAIROS's track record, past and present, it shows appalling judgment on the part of the Harper Conservatives. And it says something worrisome about the current workings of the federal bureaucracy.
But the story got a whole lot worse when Kenney stepped into it. While Oda had announced that KAIROS was being cut off because its priorities didn't match CIDA's, Kenney took it up a notch. A notch? Make that a whole mountainside. Speaking in Jerusalem, he said the de-funding of KAIROS was part of the Canadian government's vigilant efforts to disempower anti-Semitic groups.
Anti-Semitic. He effectively called KAIROS anti-Semitic.
The charge is horrific. For people of good will who are not Jewish, the very idea of being or appearing anti-Semitic is chilling. I speak personally. We have seen the result of anti-Semitism at its most horrendous in film, literature, the powerful testimonials of those who lived and died during the Holocaust. We have heard our Jewish friends and neighbours, and we understand without question the need for both the concept and state of Israel, as well as the worldwide duty of vigilance. "Never again" is the understandably passionate cry of every heart that is Jewish -- but it also has a resounding resonance, a powerful resonance, in hearts that are not.
Anti-Semitism, in short, is a crime against humanity, something loathsome that emerges from the hatred and wilful ignorance of shrivelled souls and the lowest of the low. To label persons or groups anti-Semitic is to condemn them, rightly, to contempt. And a minister of the Crown has just done that to a Christian humanitarian group.
Earlier this month, Kenney said, "We have de-funded organizations, most recently like KAIROS, who are taking a leadership role in the boycott, divestment and sanctions campaign" against Israel. This was at a conference on combatting anti-Semitism, which effectively labels KAIROS anti-Semitic.
Trouble is, Kenney is flat-out wrong about KAIROS's position. While it has indeed expressed concerns about some Israeli government policies regarding the treatment of Palestinians (something even Jewish Israelis debate), it has not promoted, and does not support, any anti-Israel sanctions, divestment or boycott. Period.
But it does, perhaps, stand for things the Harper government at home seems to have little interest in, such as ecological justice and the international advancement of human rights. And when the Harper government doesn't like what established organizations stand for, it cuts them off. Just ask women's groups across the country that felt the sting of its dismissal in 2007.
For that matter, when the Harper government doesn't like what some people are saying about the way it operates, it tends to cut them off, too. Just ask Peter Tinsley (departing chair of the Military Police Complaints Commission), Linda Keen (fired head of the Canadian Nuclear Safety Commission) or Richard Colvin. What is sad here, besides the Harperites' unconscionable and politically motivated mudslinging, is the damage to both the reputation KAIROS has built up so powerfully over the years, and its role as a champion of responsible global citizenship.
In Sudan, where its humanitarian work focuses on developing livelihoods for the community; in Indonesia, where it investigates human rights violations and military atrocities; in Colombia, where its community development work is a bulwark against kidnappings and assassinations; in the Congo, where it is involved in the fight against rape as a weapon of war -- in so many places, in so many ways, KAIROS does the good, honourable and difficult thing.
Any well-meaning Canadian -- left, right, centre -- should feel a justifiable sense of shame that our government, in our name, has so ill-used an organization that walks the walk, fights the fight and does all those other things for which most of us lack the time, inclination and stomach.
In a world with no shortage of self-interest, though relatively trace amounts of hands-on compassion, KAIROS can count itself squarely among the good guys. The Harper-Kenney-Oda gang, with all due respect, can not.
Someone needs to apologize and make amends. And it's not the good guys.
Janice Kennedy writes here on Sundays.
E-mail: 4janicekennedy@gmail.com
© Copyright (c) The Ottawa Citizen

CBC News - Nova Scotia - Astral mystery endures in Nova Scotia church

CBC News - Nova Scotia - Astral mystery endures in Nova Scotia church
Astral mystery endures in Nova Scotia church
Last Updated: Thursday, December 24, 2009 12:04 AM AT Comments54Recommend99CBC News
The mysterious chancel ceiling at St. John's Anglican Church in Lunenburg, N.S., was reconstructed in 2004 after a fire three years earlier. While locals now know what the star pattern represents, they don't know who originally designed it, or how. (CBC)
Parishioners at one of Canada's oldest Anglican churches will be puzzled by an enduring enigma when they gaze heavenward this Christmas.

The chancel ceiling at St. John's Anglican Church in Lunenburg, N.S., has a special pattern of gilded stars on it, and while locals now know what it represents, they have yet to find out who originally designed it, or how.

The conundrum emerged after the church, built in 1754, burned on Halloween night in 2001 as a result of arson. The parish sought to reconstruct the building's interior as closely as possible, and it brought in parishioner Margaret Coolen in 2004 to re-create the ceiling over the altar.

A fire ravaged St. John's Anglican Church in 2001. (CBC)
But the church didn't have a complete set of photographs of the original star pattern, so Coolen, hoping the pattern reflected the actual alignment of heavenly bodies in the night sky, sought the help of astronomer David Turner of Saint Mary's University in Halifax.

That's when the first mystery emerged.

Turner recognized the constellation Perseus in the photos of the eastern part of the chancel ceiling. But Perseus, seen from Lunenburg, always lies in the northern part of the sky and never due east.

"We looked at them and didn't recognize any of the star groups," Coolen explained of the constellations' positions. "It looked like they might just simply be put up at random, but it didn't seem like someone would go to that trouble to put just random stars on the ceiling."

Coolen suggested that Turner instead look at the stars' alignment around 2,000 years ago — on Christmas Eve in the year of Jesus' birth.

Then, using software that plots the positions of heavenly bodies throughout history, Turner had a revelation: The chancel ceiling's pattern indeed reflected quite closely how the night sky would have looked from Lunenburg all those years past, when constellations appeared in somewhat different locations than today.

"I set the scene for sunset, and bingo! I found myself looking at Perseus in the eastern sky," he said.

But while the finding has excited parishioners at St. John's Anglican, who now know that they are gazing up at the heavens as they would have appeared on the eve of their Saviour's birth, it has also perplexed them.

The ornamentation they once merely called "Mariner's Sky" holds a stellar motif of immense astronomical significance. But who could possibly have calculated the astral positions, and how, remains a mystery.

Remove Fill Pipe When Removing Oil Tank in Basement

Heating oil poured into wrong house

Last Updated: Friday, December 11, 2009 | 10:58 AM AT

CBC News

A heating company truck is parked outside a Saint John house where oil was accidentally poured into the basement. (CBC)

A Saint John family is looking for a temporary new home after about 30 litres of home-heating oil was accidentally pumped into their basement.

Saint John fire crews responded to complaints of a furnace-oil spill in an east Saint John residence on Friday morning.

Jerry Morris, the district fire chief, said between 20 and 30 litres of home-heating oil was delivered to the wrong house. Morris said the driver misread the delivery ticket and put the oil into the pipe on the wrong house.

"What happened there, this residence there, they didn't have a furnace for practically 15 years," Morris said.

"But the fill pipe was still on the outside of the building. So when he put the fuel in the pipe it just went directly right into the basement."

Morris said the oil flooded the home's fully furnished basement and the fumes are so bad the home will not be liveable for several weeks.

Irving Oil Ltd. has put the residents up at a hotel at the company's expense and crews spent the day cleaning up the mess, said André Landry, district manager of operations.

"We have a process first of all to avoid these type of incidents, so we're investigating that now internally. But the first priority this morning was ensuring that the homeowners were tended to and that their needs were met."

Meanwhile, fire officials said residents who are no longer using home-heating oil should have the fill pipe removed so similar accidents do not happen.

This Digital Age

In the first place let me acknowledge the irony of my posting this particular discussion on an electronic forum. Although I recognize the convenience of reading MacLean’s Magazine via an electronic subscription especially when I’m on the road and admit that I presently have no less than four electronic book readers installed on my computer I remain essentially a book  person; there is no substitute for holding the page in one’s hand. Books may have copyrights but there is no such thing as digital rights management issues to printed text. At present I am struggling with the fact that Microsoft Reader will not allow me to read the books I have transferred to this laptop after a necessary re-imagining of the operating system.

 

Last spring I read the letters written home by a young WW#2 soldier edited by his son after they were found in a packet behind his grandfather’s basement furnace. In this age of instant messaging, tweets, and text messaging no such records will be left behind. Even E-mail and Word Documents exist only as positives and negatives on a hard drive and as we all know all hard drives fail sooner or later.  When famous people and authors die it is common to see published edited editions of their correspondence. In a time when these exist only as electronic media the opportunity to release such publications will become less possible as old versions of software, encryption, and password protected files and computers make accessing these documents more difficult. Just ask people who had their cell phone data stored in the ‘cloud’ and lost it when the servers failed without backup.

 

Those who have followed this blog for any length of time have already read that my father didn’t trust the phone, when he wanted to talk to someone he got in his truck and drove to see them in person. Today people send tweets or text messages to relatives located in the same building. Letters are something one sends when a text copy of a document is absolutely required or one needs to communicate with the few people who have not yet entered the digital age. People still feel the need to send Birthday, Valentines, and Christmas Cards. However these days I send messages by E-mail and do much of my ordering and financial transactions online. However since I hit the road I have not felt the need to possess a cell phone and do not feel a pressing need to be constantly in contact with the world at large online.

 

Not everything about our online digital age is a negative. Etymologists are finding electronic access to texts a boon in discovering when a word was first used or when it was used in a particular fashion. However were there to be a catastrophic electro-magnetic storm that wiped out all electronic media worldwide what would be left for archaeologists of the future to study in assessing the culture of our age?

The Rant is Back

The sun may not be quite over the yardarm but I needed that beer! Suppose I should be thankful for the owners and staff at Thom’s Market that they took off American Thanksgiving. Were they open I’d be enjoying Maine Root Ginger Beer instead. I will not, however forgive Romeo’s next door for beginning with the Kristmas Krap Muzak at 10:00 this morning; in the words of a neighbour,  “I never thought I’d be thankful for a leaf blower.”

 

SCOTTISH SINGING SENSATION SUSAN BOYLE SUFFERS STRESS

 

Be careful what you wish for, you might actually get it. We live in a world where a professional athlete cannot scratch his crotch without the event becoming a Youtube iPhone posting. There is a decades-old shot of Prince Charles adjusting the gonads which gave rise to Harry and William while he stands beside his polo pony titled “having a ball” and his Father Philip once turned a hose on the paparazzi. Royalty and movie stars may be accustomed to such invasion of privacy but the rest of us are ill-equipped to cope with becoming an overnight sensation. Ask Barack Obama what happens when you decide to innocently go out for donuts. Should we be surprised that Ms. Boyle lacks the skills and thick skin necessary for being catapulted into overnight stardom.

 

Government by Tweet

 

Alberta Premier Ed Stelmach is using popular social media formats to solicit questions from the public as part of a "year-end interview." What next?

 

Some daily wisdom:

 

 

When I meet a man I ask myself, 'Is this the man I want my children to spend their weekends with?'

Rita Rudner

 

 How many words end in 'dous?'

 

There are only four words in the English language which end in "dous": tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, hazardous.

 

Most people would like to be delivered from temptation but would like it to keep in touch.

Robert Orben

 

A great many people think they are thinking when they are really rearranging their prejudices.

William James (1842 - 1910)

 

My feature rant, however, is reserved for the fast-food industry and in particular, its invasion of the aisles of grocery store chains. It had never occurred to me to style myself a slow food advocate but I’m getting there. It was when I walked into a brand new Loblaws store in Oakville and saw three aisles of freezer cases containing pre-prepared food and in particular my first glimpse of frozen Kraft Dinner that I freaked and walked straight out. We’ve all  probably seen the commercial in which the cook tosses flour on her face pretending that rice crispy squares are tough to make; why then are their locations that sell them in 30 or more varieties. Can melting butter and marshmallows be that difficult? Alas, matters have only gone down hill since that visit to Loblaws over 2 decades ago. TV dinners and cake mixes are one thing—I’ve never owned or used either; the trend these days is toward heat and serve dinners already finished in store. Take-out from a restaurant differs only in that the buyer actually heats the food before serving it.

 

Convenience is not without its price. In additives to preserve freshness, in added salt, sugar, and fats to bolster flavour, and financial cost. Consider that in buying a packet of potato chips one is paying $60 a pound for those potatoes. Not everyone would want to make their own salad dressings, mayonnaise, mustards, bread, and French fries as I have done but at least that way one knows what went into them. Carrot, celery and cheese sticks may be convenient along with cauliflower and broccoli flowerets but having someone else prepare them adds substantially to the cost. The idea that people will join a 30-car line-up to buy bland, burnt coffee boggles the mind. In Austin, Texas I’m in a Hispanic neighbourhood and it seems burritos, fajitas, and tacos continue the trend. Taco bread comes in 50 slice flats though masa flour is still available. Salsa comes in bottles or plastic pouches, the vegetables come pre-chopped, the meat in bite-sized pieces, and in the cheese aisle 500 feet of packets of grated cheese. Meanwhile it becomes more and more difficult to find the basic staples necessary to cook meals from scratch. The store with the grated cheese barely stocked solid cheese.

Seal to be Served in Parliament Hill Restaurant

Seal to be served in Parliament Hill restaurant

Last Updated: Wednesday, November 18, 2009 12:54 PM AT Comments342Recommend98

The Canadian Press

Governor General Michaëlle Jean, middle left, and her husband, Jean-Daniel Lafond, ate seal meat during a community feast in Rankin Inlet, Nunavut, in May. (Sean Kilpatrick/Canadian Press)

Seal meat is about to join beef tenderloin and baked salmon on the haute-cuisine menu for MPs and senators in the parliamentary restaurant.

MPs say Parliament is taking a cue from Gov. Gen. Michaëlle Jean, who triggered a global controversy last May by eating seal meat while on a visit to Nunavut in a show of support for Inuit culture.

The parliamentary restaurant is one of the gems on Parliament Hill. Its alabaster columns vault toward a ceiling spiked with several domes. The spectacular view of the Ottawa River is available only to ministers, MPs, journalists and others who work on the Hill.

Members of the public can only enter the restaurant as guests of those holding a parliamentary pass.

Jean chose a more down-to-earth venue when she sliced and ate a raw seal heart from a carcass that had been laid out on the floor at a Rankin Inlet community festival on Hudson Bay.

Liberal, Conservative and New Democrat MPs say the addition of seal meat to the menu in the exclusive parliamentary restaurant will also be a significant boost for sealers battling a European Union ban on their products.

"The sealers will be able to say, 'This is legal in Canada. We follow the legal process. Parliament Hill serves seal meat, and members of Parliament and senators eat seal meat'," said Liberal MP Marcel Proulx, a member of the powerful all-party board that oversees Commons budgets and bylaws.

The head of a lobby group in Newfoundland and Labrador welcomed the move with enthusiasm.

'Wonderful gesture'

"I think it's a wonderful gesture," said Frank Pinhorn, executive director of the Canadian Sealers' Association.

"I commend the federal government or whoever is involved in it. I think it's a real demonstration of support for Canadian culture, and I think it's long overdue."

Two East Coast MPs, Conservative Gerald Keddy and New Democrat Yvon Godin, also embraced the measure as a positive step, each saying they have eaten seal meat and believe it should be promoted by Parliament.

"Awesome," Keddy said when he learned of the development Tuesday.

"I think it's a great show of support for Canadian sealers and the seal industry.

"Plus, as an East Coaster, I've eaten seal a number of times. My preference is ringed seal out of the High Arctic. That is the tastiest of them all. Next to that, the grey seal is fine, not a thing wrong with that."

Proulx said Bloc Québécois MP Michel Guimond suggested adding seal to the menu, but the board had to handle the matter delicately since it cannot dictate chef Judson Simpson's menu on behalf of all MPs and senators.

"We made sure that he got the message through the sergeant-at-arms (former RCMP superintendent Kevin Vickers), that he (Simpson) could choose what he wanted, and we had no objection to him choosing seal meat for the menu," said Proulx. He noted other exotic meat, such as bison, is already on the menu.

'It's a meat, but it's got sort of an overtaste from the marine environment, either the herring or the mackerel.'— Frank Pinhorn, Canadian Sealers' Association

Seal meat is regularly on the table for many residents of Newfoundland and Labrador, said Pinhorn.

"We hunt it, and we have seal meat in our diet," he said. Seal meat processors must be licensed and inspected by government.

"If you're familiar with farm animals and fish in the ocean, it's almost in between. It's a meat, but it's got sort of an overtaste from the marine environment, either the herring or the mackerel," he said.

Jean's gesture was strongly criticized in Europe but sparked a boost in sales of seal snacks in restaurants serving the delicacy in cities such as Montreal.

The Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, which has campaigned against the hunt for seal pelts, did not appear open to the idea of Parliament's support for seal as a food.

"That's going to be full of toxins," said a staff member at the society's headquarters in Washington state.

© The Canadian Press, 2009

Boston Common Christmas Tree

Boston Bound

A 46-foot Nova Scotian white spruce will be harvested today, Nov. 16, and then make it's way to the City of Boston to take its place as the centre piece of their annual tree lighting festivities. The tradition of sending the people of Boston a Christmas tree dates back to the year following the Halifax Explosion.

In 1918, representatives from Nova Scotia delivered a tree in appreciation for the quick response of aid workers from the Boston Red Cross and Massachusetts Public Safety Committee following the previous years tragic explosion. Renewed as an annual tradition in 1971, the gift reminds Bostonians and Nova Scotians alike of the strong ties that exist between our two regions.

This year’s tree comes from the property of Floyd and Elaine Shatford of Fox Point, Lunenburg County. From there it will make its way to Boston where it will be welcomed by a reception of dignitaries and local area school children on November 20.

Erected on the Boston Common, the magnificent tree will remain on display throughout the holiday season and take centre stage on December 3. Nova Scotia Come to life will be following the tree’s journey and you can follow along via Twitter and Facebook

Back in the Great State of Texas

A good friend can tell you what is the matter with you in a minute. He may not seem such a good friend after telling.

Arthur Brisbane, "The Book of Today"

I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.

Dave Barry (1947 - )

After deciding I would rather not travel on Friday the Thirteenth and attempt to find a campsite as the weekend starts I drove out of Shreveport this morning and entered Texas along I-20. Plenty of truck traffic but traffic moved. Found a small campground near Tyler which agreed to set me up in over-flow camping for the two nights. At least the price was right; though the Wi-Fi is less than stellar.

I feel a rant coming on.

Our American Brethren look to Canada as a model of state-run health care. One wonders just what kind of example we're showing them. Call an ambulance and you'll get a bill for the portion of the cost health care doesn't cover. Have a doctor order a battery of tests and discover just how many procedures are not covered. Go for an eye test and discover that no province covers them any longer unless you meet special criteria. Need specialized exams and learn that there's a one year waiting list; book your colonoscopy 1 year in advance. All fine until my doctor retired and the gal he sold his practice to decided it was too big and dropped me as a patient because I didn't abuse the system and see her right away. So now I join the staggering percentage of Canadians without a primary healthcare provider.

With great fanfare the Ontario Government launches E-Health Care which supposedly will help to bridge that gap. Now we learn the woman hired to run the department specialized in living high off the hog at government expense and hiring her cronies without following any contract protocols running up a multi-million dollar bamboozle. Enter H1N1 virus and we are left wondering just who's in charge and if anyone in the healthcare department can manage their way out of a wet paper bag. The drug companies producing the vaccine are surely making a healthy profit for their efforts; the complications involved in creating a specialized immunotherapy for a fast-breaking new virus are beyond the average person's comprehension but hearing that bulk containers of the stuff are being shipped out of the country for lack of proper containers boggles the imagination. With those who think they need the shots hearing that favours are being done and privileged groups are jumping the cue finger-pointing is running rampant.

How Low Can They Go?

U.S. school sells students grades for cash

Last Updated: Wednesday, November 11, 2009 | 9:04 AM ET Comments72Recommend44

The Associated Press

A middle school in North Carolina is selling better test scores to students in a bid to raise money.

The Raleigh News & Observer newspaper reported Wednesday that a parent advisory council at Rosewood Middle School came up with the fundraising plan after last year's chocolate sale flopped.

The school will sell 20 test points to students for $20. Students can add 10 extra points to each of two tests of their choice. The extra points could take a student from a B to an A on those tests or from a failing grade to a passing one.

Principal Susie Shepherd said it's not enough of an impact to change a student's overall marks.

Officials at the state Department of Public Instruction said exchanging grades for money teaches children the wrong lessons.

Back in Louisiana

Reality is nothing but a collective hunch.

Jane Wagner, Lily Tomlin in "The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe"

I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.

Umberto Eco (1932 - )

First a rant about roads and drivers:

The Devil invented concrete block highways on one of his more malicious days, I've also driven a grooved highway that made my tires whine and the vehicle vibrate. I can sympathize with the trucker who declared that if one attempted to leave the recommended 4 vehicle lengths from the car ahead on the Gardner an 18-wheeler would be driving backwards—leave the space and someone feels compelled to fill it. I'd love to have a special 'vaporize' button for the idiots who pull in front of one after passing and drive slower; and what's with the people who pull in front with a half-mile of clear road behind, then slam on the brakes to make an exit. Also love slow-pokes who speed up whenever there's a passing lane. Have you ever wished you could push? Being caught behind two 60 ft tractor trailers attempting to pass is tedious. Somehow things improved once I got into Louisiana today but I was beginning to wonder since I entered New York State and began heading south, then west of I-20 if anyone paid any attention to posted Speed Limits; I know this is the land of the free but even freedom has limits. I was not impressed when someone with a small trailer dropped a load of brush in the middle of my lane, just thankful I didn't get rear-ended when I made the panic stop.

Unimpressed with my temporary home in Mississippi I decided to pass up on touring Civil War Sites in Vicksburg and hit the road. With today's hop that makes over 500 miles in two days. As I was getting unplugged to leave Vicksburg two small birds flew in my open motorhome door and had to be encouraged to leave. They were more frightened than I but I must say this is a first. Immediately out of Vicksburg almost as I entered I-20 the highway crosses the Mississippi River into Louisiana. The Welcome Centre was 8 miles down the road; as with most such centres I've visited the staff were efficient but hardly friendly. I stopped to shop at the 'evil empire' as it was the only place I noticed on my way to Tall Pines Campground, apparently I missed the nearby Krogers.

Sometimes one just recognizes immediately that one has made the right choice. Tall Pines RV Park was such a choice. A family-run business the coffee is free and the service attentive. I had no reservations in making a two day stand. A tour of their campground store proved I'm back in Cajun Country. Featured in pride of place were Tabasco Gift Sets but what really caught my eye was a gallon bottle of Habanera Sauce—used I'm told for tail-gate parties for making wings. I passed the stadium on my way in and remember being thankful there wasn't a game on.

Highway Lag

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.

Albert Einstein (1879 - 1955)

Pity the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Don Marquis (1878 - 1937)

When buying and selling are controlled by legislation, the first things to be bought and sold are legislators.

P. J. O'Rourke (1947 - )

Ever notice how the people who are quoted in these witty sayings are almost always dead, it's as if your opinions aren't worth anything if you're still living or you can't be held accountable for them or change your mind if you're beyond the pale.

The Mother-In-Law Joke

Fresh out of gift ideas, a man buys his mother-in-law a large plot in an expensive cemetery. On her next birthday, he buys her nothing, so she lets him have it.

"What are you complaining about?" he fires back. "You haven't used the present I gave you last year."

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In just over 3 weeks I've driven over 2000 miles and passed through 4 time zones moving from Atlantic Daylight Saving Time to Central Standard Time. There's a reason I'm up at 3:30 AM in the morning. Outside my window a Confederate Flag is flying, I'm definitely south of the Mason Dixon Line. Wasted a couple hours yesterday trying to read my comix. The clue that the problem wasn't mine came when I attempted to reset my password and the server, upon my attempt to activate the new password declared there was no record of my request. It was a couple hours later I finally attempted again and got a message that their servers were down. I'd have had my E-mail read by now but for that debacle. Doesn't seem to take long to get 100 backed up. This morning, November 8^th, the Ultra-Pasteurized Cream I bought at ACME in Cape May turned sour in my coffee 3 weeks before it was supposed to but the milk I bought the same day is still good 6 days past its due date. Suppose my name really is Wile E. Coyote. The convenience store here in the park is open from 5:00 AM for their gas bar but alas they don't stock cream. The forecast predicts rain tomorrow and on cue the heavens this morning resemble the kind of stratus clouds in the Maritimes we'd term a mackerel sky. Guess I stand to be driving in the rain tomorrow.

The temperature is back in the 70ies again at noon Sunday. I'm definitely not in "Kansas" any more. As last year when I headed south it seems strange to be seeing it get dark at 4:30 in the afternoon when it's been so warm all day. This is not the tropics, mind you so it still gets cool at night but no frost so far. Tomorrow I plan a long drive through the city of Birmingham and on to Vicksburg, Mississippi to camp at a place called Magnolia RV Park. Once again this year I am scandalized at how many decades the South is behind the rest of the continent in terms of recycling and bottle deposits and returns—no such program exists here—it comes hard to have to throw beer bottles into the garbage but I don't have the room to carry them around for 6 months until I'm back in Canada. Here is Pell City on Logan Martin Lake in Alabama. Decided to spend the weekend here before driving further however already I'm making commitments for next week in Austin.

Re-Entering the South

Crossing the Mason-Dixon Line involves a great deal more than crossing a geo-political boundary. Leaving the New England States behind one encounters a slower less harried pace of life. As the temperature goes up so does the spiciness of the food and the 'heat' in the salsa and hot sauce. Southern hospitality is equally solicitous, just not offered with the same sense of urgency. Your hostess is like to refer to you as 'dear', 'love' or even 'honey'. Campgrounds are now open year-round and rather than heaters one requires air conditioning. On the Outer Banks of North Carolina the sign on the entrance to a bookstore read:

 

"No shirt, no shoes, wetsuit, wet bathing suit;

No problem!"

 

Definitely laid back. Chowders on the Outer Islands of North Carolina I learn are made with clear broth and fat back rather than the milk and butter of New England Style Chowders. The trees outside my windows become strange and unfamiliar and the birds with which I am familiar having migrated or being in the process are joined by southern residents such as Anhingas and Pelicans.

 

On the Jersey Shore I was bemused to encounter a grocery chain called ACME—no coyotes in sight but then he used mail-order.  I am again appalled by the American pre-occupation with guns and the sense of security they seem to give them. Seashore Campground in Cape May has 700 campsites and a two-storey office. I got gas at a chain called WAWA—in Ontario that would mean Canada Goose, here I'm not sure. The Delaware Bay Ferry crossing next day was described as moderate, a euphemism indicating that the majority of passengers did not get seasick though all were warned to turn off vehicle security devices that detect motion. Things settled down once we got inside the southern breakwater. Interstate 13 is a coastal four-lane divided highway with traffic lights at the intersection with major highways, not limited access. It passes through farming country with the attendant odours. After passing though Maryland one enters a long spit of land that is part of Virginia termed its Eastern Shore. I don't understand the history behind this geographical anomaly but at the tip of this peninsula the Chesapeake Bridge-Tunnel winds its 17 mile path across the Bay to Virginia Beach.

 

After a long day's drive the last thing you want to discover at your KOA Kampground is a rock concert, Christian or not. At least with the heat I closed the windows and turned on the A/C to mask the noise. Worse was to come. Next day I discovered Jets 300 feet overhead taking off from Oceana NAS across the road. Who placed a campground where navy jets could crash? An F-18 at 300 feet provides a deafening wake-up call but who would want to argue with Virginia Beach's largest employer? This campground rates 20 thumbs---waaaaay down. While in town I drove 70 miles on roads not mentioned in any tourist brochure and visited three garages before I found someone to service my van—the principle reason I stopped over in town. That and the need to rest—ha, ha, ha! I also don't recommend the Virginia Aquarium—highway noise and overhead jets are great for the critters and the people who visit. Great beach but don't forget the ear plugs.

 

After hearing about the landslide on I-40 and the fact that the concrete highway has 3 inch cracks between the blocks I took a neighbour's advice and headed south to North Carolina's Outer Banks. Cross the bridge into Kitty Hawk then head south. Here salt spray, blowing sand, sand dunes, and sandy beaches are never more than a short walk distant. If you don't have sand in your shoes you've wasted your time. Lots of bridges and lighthouses. Cape Hatteras Light looks out of place on its new site 1500 feet from shore after its move ten years ago to avoid falling prey to the very waves it serves to warn shipping of. At 200 feet it is still an imposing iconic structure.

 

Hard to tell just who the good guys are. In Ocracoke, the home of Edward Teach lies proof that one can't go home. Although pardoned that didn't stop the British sending an assassination squad to deprive him of his head. Do you suppose he fared better in the hereafter? At least I got to keep mine and spent two days in idle wandering. Spending two and a half hours on a pitching ferry riding backwards—the GPS recorded 14 miles an hour—in shallow waters is a queasy afternoon's passage.  Once on Cedar Island the road is hemmed in on each side by deep trenches. Get off it and if you don't drown the skeeters or the gators will get you. Darkness comes quickly when it's 4:30 and you have 50 miles to drive on these roads. Having someone meet you and guide you to a campsite is indeed Southern Hospitality.

 

There are two KOA's in Charleston. The other half stay on an Antebellum Estate in town, the cheap seats have one waiting for a break in traffic to make a left-hand turn on a major highway. Once the curtains are drawn the difference is the traffic noise, the aircraft overhead, the railway crossing, and the turkey shoot across the road. The laundry room was probably more high-class as well but I got mine done. Wonder what you feed a pet alligator—non-paying guests? The majority of the historic signs on the walls of the laundry area are not politically correct.

 

Today I took I-20 inland into Georgia. Wish I could say that I found a peaceful well-appointed campground after my 200-mile drive but Country Boy's RV Park is even more rustic than its name suggests. Best I not publish until after I depart!

 

 

 

 

Mayor McCallion Under Investigation

After decades of ruling the city of Mississauga and intimidating anyone who would challenge her lengthy sway Attila the Hen is being challenged for her bullying tactics once again. Having balanced her books for years on development fees she has nearly run out of new lands to pave and been rebuffed in her efforts to seize more land from Halton and Oakville.  Perhaps it's past time when she should have retired gracefully before she reached her senility:

 

Mississauga mayor facing judicial inquiry

Last Updated: Wednesday, October 28, 2009 | 10:01 PM ET

CBC News

Mississauga Mayor Hazel McCallion will face a judicial inquiry into whether her involvement in a development deal involving her son represented a conflict of interest.

Town council voted 6-4 on Wednesday to go ahead with the inquiry.

McCallion has come under fire for attending private meetings with her son and the developers of a multimillion-dollar hotel project. Peter McCallion's company, World Class Developments, tried unsuccessfully to buy the land for $14.4 million.

McCallion has maintained she declared a conflict of interest when the matter came before council last May and that the council minutes support her.

But a video record of the meeting does not show McCallion declaring a conflict, leading to accusations that the minutes were changed.

McCallion loyalists in council and many Mississauga residents have voiced opposition to the inquiry, saying it would cost too much at a time when money is tight.

The inquiry is expected to cost $2.5 million and last 40 days.

But Coun. Carolyn Parrish, who has led the calls for the inquiry, said more transparency is needed.

"I want to find out how the minutes got changed … I want to know what other deals have been going on in city central like that," she said in council Wednesday.

 

 

 

What Americans Know

I am continually astounded at the ignorance American's show of their own history and geography let alone their awareness of the world outside their own borders. I have already related the tale of the uneducated preacher who held forth for over an hour and a half about Revelation One and then met me and admitted complete lack of any knowledge of the existence of Toronto Ontario. That was nearly a year ago now.

 

You may remember that when two former presidents of these United States met in Toronto they expressed surprise to learn that we now require passports to cross the American Border though one signed the enabling legislation and other was in office when it was implemented.

 

My hosts on Cape Cod had no knowledge of the Halifax Explosion of 1917, the largest blast to occur until the first Atom Bomb was dropped on Japan in 1945. Here on the Jersey Shore the gal on the campground desk admitted no knowledge of Cape Cod even though it's just 500 miles up the coast.

 

It would seem that unless it occurred in my own backyard it isn't important and I don't need to know it. If it didn't take place in America or American's didn't do it, then it didn't happen or isn't worth knowing. Such historic insularity and isolationism is at odds with America's current position as the world's policemen and sole remaining super-power. No wonder policy-makers felt safe in attacking Iraq on the pretext of their having weapons of mass destruction. Should it surprise us that so few Americans exercise their democratic right to vote.

The Bible as Poetry

Sometimes modern translations pale by comparison with the poetry of the King James Version of the Bible. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the poetry that is the Psalms as in Psalm 46 today:

(Psa 46:1) A song of the sons of Korah. God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need him.

(Psa 46:2) We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in seastorm and earthquake,

(Psa 46:3) Before the rush and roar of oceans, the tremors that shift mountains. Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, GOD of angel armies protects us.

(Psa 46:4) River fountains splash joy, cooling God's city, this sacred haunt of the Most High.

(Psa 46:5) God lives here, the streets are safe, God at your service from crack of dawn.

(Psa 46:6) Godless nations rant and rave, kings and kingdoms threaten, but Earth does anything he says.

(Psa 46:7) Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, GOD of angel armies protects us.

(Psa 46:8) Attention, all! See the marvels of GOD! He plants flowers and trees all over the earth,

(Psa 46:9) Bans war from pole to pole, breaks all the weapons across his knee.

(Psa 46:10) "Step out of the traffic! Take a long, loving look at me, your High God, above politics, above everything."

(Psa 46:11) Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, GOD of angel armies protects us.

Balmy Air Goes to My Head

It's taken me two days to figure out that I've been sweating at night because I've got a heavy quilt on top of a heavy bedspread, blanket, and flannel sheets and it no longer freezes outside overnight. In fact I had the air conditioning on for a while after I got in camp today.

 

In the news is the fact that I'm not the only one who is letting things get to my head. Seems a certain Canadian Vice-Regal appointee is getting too big for her britches. Head of state indeed. This from the same gal who raised eyebrows by eating parts of an endangered species. I suppose we can be thankful it's only a five year appointment. We must remember that she comes from the same province that calls their premiers Prime Ministers and their provincial parks, National Parks. Somehow methinks this can best be handled by ignoring these little pufferies and not giving them more attention than they deserve. For the record our governor general acts as head of state in the absence of the Queen, gets her appointment from the Queen on the advice of the Prime Minister of Canada. The position is largely ceremonial but for all that would you rather have Stephen Harper acting as Head of State?

 

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It would seem we owe the existence of Cape Cod to the last ice age and its alluvial action. However it was created in its present form it looks like the shoulder and arm of a man showing off his biceps with Chatham being the elbow, Truro the wrist, and Provincetown the clenched fist. The difference between National Seashores such as Cape Cod, National Parks such as Acadia, and National Reserves is somewhat lost on me but whatever else those differences might be there are no fees for entering a National Seashore. If glaciers served to form Cap Cod, the weather continues to reform it by way of the wave action of the ocean and sand blown by the wind. The contours of the dunes and shoreline are constantly shifting and being reshaped. To my way of thinking the Graveyard of the Atlantic will always be Sable Island but the waters surrounding Cape Cod have claimed over 300O ships and light houses and life saving stations have always been a feature of life on the islands though the shifting sands have forced their relocation over and over.

 

Provincetown's claim to fame is that of being the site of the first landfall of the Pilgrim Fathers on the Mayflower. Although they rejected this site and eventually landed at Plymouth a monument soars into the sky marking their visit. The rich marine life supported by these constantly churning waters has attracted fisherman and whalers before and ever since but it is the clean salt air, endless sandy beaches, and the refreshing climate of the place that has made it a haven for those seeking the restorative powers it possesses. That their sheer numbers threaten those qualities is another matter. Cape Cod has attracted the wealthy, the poor, authors and artists, bird watchers and oceanographers.

 

In a less charitable mood I decided that having depleted the soils with bad farm practice and destabilized the land by cutting down the forests to build boats; the farmers turned to fishing and fleeced the sea of whales and fish before turning their hands at fleecing tourists. The chief agricultural pursuits today on the islands are grapes—Martha's Vineyard has its own VQA designation and cranberries, 10% of America's production are grown here. I am also struck by the contrast in attitudes presented by Acadia and Cape Cod. Whereas the Cape is a sandbar constantly being reshaped by the elements and in danger of disappearing completely it is promoted in the most glowing of terms; meanwhile the dramatic rockbound coastlines of Acadia and its bald mountains are described in the most self-deprecating of terms, Mainites could almost be Canadian.

 

On Monday when I drove up to Race Point the wind brought tears to my eyes when I walked up to the cliff overlooking the ocean. The Provincetown Visitors Centre was open and the lanky park warden manning it seemed to know his stuff. In North Truro I was pleased to discover that not all resorts on the Cape are clip joints. I camped in the middle of a pitch pine forest. I walked out to the old Coast Guard Station Site by the shoreline and saw the lighthouse, now surrounded by a golf course. On Tuesday we actually got a sunny day. Remarkable how quickly the sea subsides here when the wind stops blowing. What was missing, I determined was the boom of the surf when I got up. Wednesday I drove down and took the North Shore Drive along the base of the Cape. The area is dotted with what has become know as Cape Cod Style homes, narrow winding roads and quaint shops, inns, and small towns. Fortunately for me there was not a long line up to get off the island via the under construction Sagamore Bridge.

 

At the other end I discovered the only way to get where I wanted to go was to turn right, make a 'U-Turn' and come back. Next up was another staple of the area, a roundabout. Fun when there are more exits than the GPS knows about. Stopped for gas and to replenish my cash for the inevitable toll roads ahead. The coastal highway lacks level crossings and underpasses, instead locals get onto the highway and take the next 'U-Turn' or turnaround lane to get there. Guess it makes sense here. Settled on Fisherman's Memorial State Park in Rhode Island for my next Campsite. Getting there involved driving through dozens of small towns by way of back streets and along wooded pathways; what you get when you tell a GPS to get you there the shortest route. The shortest route took over 4 hours to go 150 miles. Somehow it's disconcerting to be dependent on a small electronic device that tells you to make a turn when you have absolutely no idea where you are and there aren't any road signs to inform you either. Somehow it got me there again as I've come to expect it to do. The 200 site Campground, when I finally reached it was near but not on the water at a point of land sticking out into the Atlantic. The campsites were all drive-through with a berm of grass and shrubs between each site, a female worker with a long shock of hair standing on end was out clipping the shrubs with a gas-powered clipper.

 

Thursday Morning I was on the road by 7:00 AM headed for New York City on I-95. Just short of the city I stopped at one of the service areas to use a MacDonalds Washroom and take a break before the challenge ahead. The highway never widened to more than 5 lanes with exits making the biggest challenge finding the right lane to be in to continue on the route I wished to take. Fortunately there were no collisions ahead and traffic never slowed below 20 miles an hour and then only in a few places. My GPS was of no assistance keeping me in the proper lane to stay on the Interstate where the third outside lane frequently became an 'Exit Only' lane creating the need to find a safe break in traffic to get left before I was forced off the highway. I'm happy to report that somehow I managed to avoid getting lost and made it across the George Washington Bridge and safely through NYC to the New Jersey Shoreline.

 

Alas the park I'd settled on for last night did not appear to have any campsites and I saw no staff to assist me. Allaire State Park does have a miniature railroad, an interpretive centre that was closed, and a large parking lot. Having gotten there I needed to get back onto the Interstate headed south again but easier said than done. My GPS is not always clear on which of the three off-ramps ahead one should take and when it tells you to turn right too often one finds out one has made the wrong choice and are faced with a 2 to 4 mile drive  up to the next interchange to drive back. When this happens three times in a row after a 300-mile harrowing drive patience can wear thin. I got to my first park by 11:30 but it was 1:30 before I reached Cedar Creek just north of Atlantic City. The place has a pleasant odour of cedar about it, a well-stocked campground store and canteen area along with a large well-stocked games room. And the showers are free! Figuring out how to make the water come on can be a challenge though. This single control tap required a forceful outward yank.

 

I am reaching more southerly climes. After arising to frost patterns on my picnic tables I saw the thermometer top 75 degrees yesterday and last evening saw stars, a crescent moon, and heard crickets again along with common night hawks. I took the quilt off my bed last night and slept the sleep of exhaustion.

Exploring the New Entland Coastline

I would point out to anyone deciding to stay at Salisbury Beach State Reservation Campground that their power supply is unpredictable; my 30 AMP supply regularly kicked out, at least the circuit breaker was available at my post. Saturday morning I paid for my stay with a credit card; the fee $22.00!

 

I took I-495 South to get to Cape Cod, it may not be a particularly interesting route but it does avoid the congestion around Boston adding 50 miles to my route. At the southern end of this route the highway curves east and then north to cross the Bourne Bridge over the canal. On Highway 6 I stopped at the Cap Cod Visitors Centre in its last day of operation and was regaled with a detailed travelogue of the area. From there drove up to the Cape Cod National Seashore Interpretive Centre to take in one of their movies, pick up information, and buy a guide book and DVD. At that point I still had 30 miles to go on my drive up Highway 6 to Provincetown. The going was good until the road narrowed to a single lane near Wellfleet where a regional oyster festival was taking place. After enduring a mile-long backup I finally got clear sailing to Provincetown.

 

Getting off Highway Six onto Bradford Street in Provincetown the first thing that strikes one is the crowded nature of the town. A two-lane road with parking on both sides the street is so narrow I needed both lanes to negotiate and people walked in the street as the sidewalks were too narrow to accommodate the crowds. Commercial St one block south is a one-way affair barely rating as a laneway. Backstreets look more like footpaths. Parking? You're kidding. Land it would seem is too valuable to waste of cars. When I found the only campground in town still open the crusty old proprietor put me off first with the price $47 a night, and then with the fact that their practise still embraced the Nineteenth Century, he demanded cash leaving me with one single dollar when the bill was paid.

 

After getting lunch I decided to walk downtown. Street signs in Provincetown seem to be an afterthought, most corners lack them. Commercial St is an odd assortment of high end antique stores, craft shops, art galleries, small malls, and the exotic—Toys for Eros? Dining establishments are multi-cultural and vary from mid-price to the skies the limit. There is a public washroom near the chamber of commerce next to the Marina where two wharfs shelter the boat basin. On the boardwalk are the small stands that shill the various tour boats available for hire. At the end of one dock is a Museum to a sunken pirate ship, the Whydah, and at the other the ferry terminal. Looming over all is the 255 ft Pilgrim Monument marking the fact that the Mayflower made its first landfall here before heading for Plymouth. After checking out various menus I finally decided to walk back to my RV and heat my own homemade soup. I made it just before the rains.

 

Sunday morning dawned blustery, cold and wet. Whatever the cause we are getting the kind of rain only the foolhardy go abroad in. It would seem I will be spending more time reading about the Cape than seeing it. The best I can hope for it would seem is that we don't get snow. I needn't have had concerns about finding a campsite in Provincetown, looking out my windows all I can see is the sand dunes beyond the fence line.