Born on a mixed subsistence farm in rural Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, Canada. Moved to Ontario in 1967 to attend University at what was then Waterloo Lutheran University and moved to Oakville, Ontario in 1971. Without intending to live up to the name became a letter carrier the following January and have worked for Canada Post ever since. I retired in August of 2008.

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Ruminations

Well, Biebs, are you happy with the wages of fame and fortune? Millions
of sex-crazed fans who ensure you have to live under virtual house
arrest; a fancy car you can't drive without being hounded by paparazzi
obsessed with catching that $100,000 shot of you picking your nose or
scratching your willie; neighbours in that ritzy new home of yours to
complain about the loud music you play on that fancy new sound system.
Jealous critics hanging on every word you say to see if any of those
pearls turn out to be frogs. Sad to see that our squeaky clean Canadian
Boy has feet of clay just like every other newly-minted rock star.
Perhaps Brian Adams and Anne Murray should start a school for ingenues
in Stardom 101. Record labels and talent agents should make it a
required course of study for all budding musicians and movie stars.

Events seem to be taking an all-to-familiar course here. Millions of
people squander even more millions on that tax on the poor called the
lottery ticket. Nothing prepares the 'lucky few' for the trials of
actually winning. The outcomes for the majority of those winners leaves
them far worse off than when they started. Nothing prepares that wildly
in love young couple for that freshly fed, washed, and diapered baby at
3 AM that just won't stop crying. The number of victims of shaken baby
syndrome pay testimony to that fact. And unless you grow up with it like
a Kiefer Sutherland, Adam Cohen, Jakub Dylan, or Liam Finn, nothing
prepares you for the pitfalls of stardom.

Should the Canadian Taxpayer be investing millions in training elite
athletes to compete in Olympic competition? However you stand on that
question events in London are taking on an all-too-familiar pattern.
Even the best athlete in a particular sport can have a bad day just like
the rest of us. Shoelaces can break at that crucial second. Metal
fatigue cause an oarlock to give way. When hundredths of a second spell
the difference between first and second place little separates top
athletes from one another. A second-place silver may feel like a loss, a
fourth place finish out of the medals, the honour of just being there to
represent our Country ring hollow. But should an athlete be appearing
before the press to apologize to the country for a poor showing?

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