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!