Racism

Watching To Kill a Mockingbird has caused me to think once more about racism. I would like to think of myself as not harbouring racist tendencies. Indeed for the first 18 years of my life virtually everyone with whom I came into daily contact was of German-Lutheran heritage. The first persons of colour I met were equally homesick International Students at University from the African Continent. One might say I had a sheltered upbringing. I now recognize certain stereotypes that informed my cultural background.

 

Having travelled extensively in the American South now that I am in retirement I have come to a realization that slavery was abolished there yesterday and the wounds of the War between the States remain largely unhealed. Whatever the evils of the ‘Institution’ it is among poor whites and ‘crackers’ that the strongest racist enmities were held then and now. As I’ve written before it’s a said thing when people have such a low sense of their own self-worth that they have to define their self-esteem in terms of the people to whom they feel they are superior. While black slavery persisted the labours of ‘po white trash’ were of little value since slaves worked for nothing. People of colour remain a readily identifiable object of resentment for under-privileged whites and affirmative-action programs serve only to rub salt in the wounds.

 

The time I’ve spent in Texas leads me to believe that these racist attitudes have been in large part transferred to Spanish-speaking Mexican-Americans. Whether these people have lived in America for generations or are illegal migrants matters not. Why are these resentments so strong?

 

o      The birthrates among Mexican-Americans is higher than that of established ethnics. In Austin where I’ve lived they have exceeded half the population. Unless you can afford to live in exclusive enclaves and/or send your children to private schools Spanish will be the first language of most of your classmates.

 

o      The stores you shop in begin to cater to the ethnic tastes of the population they serve—it just makes good business sense. Across America Salsa has passed ketchup as the favoured condiment.

 

o      Your neighbours will speak Spanish and observe Mexican traditions. Gunfire and firecrackers on Christmas Eve anyone?

 

o      Whether a characterization of being lazy is justified there is definitely a different work-ethic. Lacking educational opportunities and skills low-paying menial jobs will predominate and the wages non-union workers accept threaten the standards of unionized workers.

 

o      Lack of education, poor living standards, and poverty breed disease and crime whatever the population.

 

Now let’s transfer the experience to my native Canada. We’re fabled for our civility and acceptance of refugees since our country was founded and settled by immigrants. We even accepted thousands of United Empire Loyalists after the American War of Independence. The process is not without its strains however.

 

o      A country whose acceptance was founded on Christian principles now finds itself embarrassed to make public celebration of Christmas in its schools and other public institutions lest a Christmas Tree might offend. A Holiday Tree has a strange ring to it. The saying of prayers in school and at public meetings is falling prey to similar objections.

 

o      We’ve just fought off the acceptance of Sharia Law in part because Muslim Woman objected more strongly than the public at large. Should woman be allowed to disguise themselves under veils in public when voting or engaging in other legal acts?

 

o      Schools experience similar problems when 90% of their students have English as a second language. Traditional neighbourhoods become overrun by ethnic minorities. How does a teacher of British extraction react when he discovers his Indian neighbour beats his wife on a regular basis? Buying a home that experienced cooking with curry means the necessity of ripping out all the ductwork, replacing all the carpets, and scrubbing the walls down to the plaster to get rid of the stench.  Your neighbour’s son is expected to turn over his part-time earnings to his father—his sister to accept an arranged marriage. Female circumcision, honour killings, female infanticide, are only a shadow of the ills that come with immigrants.

 

o      People who escape persecution abroad too often import their ethnic hatreds with them. Churches, homes, and vehicles get vandalized because the owners belonged to the wrong ethnic minority. One of my neighbours laboured hard for years to get our superintendent fired because he came from the wrong section of the former Yugoslavia. My last mail route included customers from various minorities from that same country. One false word or miss-delivery had the potential for disastrous results. Building a Mosque beside the site of the former World Trade Centre may be ill-advised but minarets shade the QEW one of Canada’s busiest highways. The influx of Jamaicans into the College Park section of Mississauga has turned it into one of Canada’s highest crime areas. I will not shop in the mall there as finding your car when you return to it is optional.

 

o      The Africville Community of Halifax was destroyed and its residents moved with dump trucks to make way for the building of the first bridge across the harbour. The residents and their descendents still mourn its loss. The Black Empire Loyalists of Halifax are subjected to racism to this day and one of the flash-points is the working class community of Cole Harbour; it’s High School one of the centres. Sidney Crosbie is a native son.

 

o      Call a cab in Oakville and its driver is likely to be wearing a turban. The driver is entitled to an interpreter when he gets his licence but who helps the passenger and one had better know where one is going, the driver may not. The fact that the man was a doctor or lawyer in his homeland is of little consolation to either.

 

o      I may not agree with the sentiments of my German friend who went to his grave believing Hitler’s ‘Final Solution’ was right-minded but my experience in residence at a Lutheran University that even served kosher dining hall meals has coloured my subsequent feelings about Jews.

 

o      Somehow the experience of prejudice serves to place chips on the shoulders of its victims and these attitudes spill over in their dealings with all others. The victims can be as guilty of stereotyping as the majority. Too often have I been subjected to smug, surly, moral-superiority when my only crime has been having been born White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. In Quebec my build, stance, and very walk identify me as Anglais even before I open my mouth. Unlike some I have never had the experience of not being served because I ordered in English—I do attempt my school-boy French.

 

Nor do I acknowledge easy solutions. The record of Viet Nam refugees in North America is a chequered one. The rigors of climate, cultural dislocation, and economic depression are common to most refugees. The Haitans who came to Montreal are synonymous with the Aids epidemic. Improving the lot of potential immigrants in their home countries would seem a logical step until one looks at the complications. In Italy the mafia made $200,000,000 in economic aid disappear without building a single home for earthquake victims. In Haiti the local administration is so corrupt and inept it is incapable of restoring lost children to their families or identifying orphans if they exist. Rebuilding homes is equally fraught with difficulties. How do you deal with starvation and disease when its cause is internal civil war? Is interfering with the internal affairs of a country justified to prevent genocide? Iraq, Jugoslavia, Afghanistan, Cyprus, anyone?

 

 

Muammar al-Qaddafi

The past few months have been difficult for cult leaders. Tito has been dead for 31 years but can it be truly argued that the break-up of the former Yugoslavia has improved life for its citizens. Saddam Hussein has been dead for 8 years, is Iraq any better off. Osama bin Laden was assassinated in a commando raid after decades in hiding but what damage that has done to Al-Qaeda is debatable. In a continuing Arab Spring Hosni Mubarak of Egypt was deposed and most recently Muammar al-Qaddafi was killed in Libya. It remains to be seen what form of government will replace his often eccentric behaviour.

 

Afghanistan in recent decades has suffered under a Soviet Invasion followed by the Taliban and extreme Islamic Law. In the wake of 9/11 with the excuse of the suspicion that Bin Laden was harboured there the US invaded abetted by the United Kingdom and Canada.

 

I find it debatable if the average citizen of any of the countries mentioned here understand democracy or have seen any benefits from regime change. Feudal Tribalism has existed in Afghanistan for millennia and little has changed in all that time save for the weapons the West has supplied to support more efficient killing. Tribalism and ethnic unrest trouble most of these nations. Feuds and inbred hatreds date from time immemorial. Too often as we have seen in a place like Cyprus the opposing sides would rather score points against their supposed enemies than better their own lots.

 

By interfering the West succeeds only in placing its troops in the middle of these disputes and in so  doing creates for itself more enemies. The chief beneficiaries of these conflicts are the arms suppliers and too often America finds itself facing its own weapons. The one point at which I do agree is that there should be no terrestrial grave for Qaddafi that might serve as a shrine to his memory. Bad enough that the manner of his death made him a martyr to the cause.

October Rant 2011

First off, I would tender my apologies for the lack of entries in the last three or four months in the wake of my decision to forgo internet access at the cost of $80 per month. I decided it just wasn’t worth it the side-benefit having been the number of books I’ve managed to read this summer—over forty to date.

 

Of course I’ve also managed days of DVD watching and recently began re-honing my classical guitar skills. The latter involves short left hand fingernails and quarter-inch nails on the right—making typing a distinct challenge. Practising has also left me with numb finger tips on the left hand as calluses re-establish themselves.

 

I’ve also made it back into my weight room in an attempt to rebuild muscle mass hoping to boost my basal metabolism rate so that I may get a handle on the weight gain that has resulted from diminished physical activity in the wake of my retirement. Hours at the wheel of my RV traveling 75,000 KM and a more sedentary lifestyle have reeked their toll in the last three years. What I haven’t lost is my way with words and this promises to be a magnum opus.

 

First off I have a question for anyone who can provide insight. In watching too  many movies and TV Series on DVD I’ve come to the discovery that a preponderance of actors and actresses have blonde tending toward auburn, red, and brunette hair. There must be a technical reason for this but I have yet to discover it. While on the subject of TV I would note in passing that rabbit ears and dipole antennas became obsolete in Canada September 1, 2011 when TV went digital. Unless I’m willing to invest in cable, I’m not, I’ve seen my last broadcast TV.

 

And in a final related note Blockbuter closed one third of their storefront operations this spring and just recently announced the closure of their remaining operations in Canada. Online streaming and mail-order operations such as Net Flicks spelled the doom of Blockbuster’s clunky operation. I patronized the local outlet due to its convenient location, not out of any love for their practices. Their failings included:

 

1.   the nauseating non-stop commercials to which visitors to their stores were subjected

2.   the habit of placing masses of new-releases in prominent shelf space without any respect to alphabetical order

3.   their failure to properly alphabetise their other movies—a sin to one who once worked shelving library books

4.   making movies full-priced releases for up to two and half years—or as long as their was profit to be squeezed from the market

5.   the lack of Canadian content

6.   the lack of specialized art house releases

7.   the rate at which older movies disappeared from their shelves as soon as they failed to move.

 

This spring E-books reached critical mass and for online marketer Amazon exceeded print book sales as of April first. For people who prefer to listen to rather than read books MP3 versions of audiobooks continue to become a popular downloadable option. For those who’d prefer to hold something in their hands books on cassettes have become antiques and been replaced by CDs however one can expect to pay up to $60 for popular titles. Cassettes had one distinct advantage over CDs, by their nature they offered positive proof of where you’d left off, the provided a natural bookmark. Expect digital audio versions to become more popular as MP3 technology continues to improve. In particular expect the price to come down as text-to-speech technology improves and artificial voices sound less artificial. Paying a human being to read books on mike is expensive particularly when name actors exact their commissions.

 

Having spent part of last summer in Newfoundland their ferry service continues to be of interest to me. I noted at the time that the failure of consistent service not to mention its cost would be a deterrent to future visits. Alas, nothing has improved since and the ‘new’ Norwegian ferries have not improved upon the record set by  British submarines. It continues to amaze me that a country such as Newfoundland whose people earned their living from the sea for centuries cannot run an efficient ferry service. Harbour access at Channel-Port-Aux-Basque is scary in good weather; the North Atlantic is noted for its fogs, quick changes in weather, prolonged howling gales. Climate change has seen violent hurricanes that would traditionally have blown themselves out long before they reached northern waters batter Newfoundland shores. Ferry service between Maine and Yarmouth Nova Scotia continues to be shut down making the travel bureau near its docks obsolete and causing the failure of numerous motel operations in the area. Bay of Fundy service between Saint John and Digby is priced exorbitantly its continuance is in doubt. Even the new ferry serving Grand Manan from Blacks Harbour New Brunswick has experienced growing pains. Storms on the Northumberland Strait have shut down service to PEI.

 

Microsoft’s Windows Operating System continues to be perpetually broken. Patches are now issued approximately every two weeks and downloads can be as big as 60 MB, major updates require CD-ROMs gigabytes in size. You may remember that VISTA OS required 2 gigabytes of computer memory just to load the operating system, Windows 7 had its code rewritten to reduce its size to a third of that. Remember that a Commodore 64 had 64 megabytes of memory in total, my latest laptop has 6000.

 

Hockey violence continues to be a Hot Topic in the sports world and after the Boston Bruins Stanley Cup victory this spring in Vancouver Canada was left with a black eye as rioting left the ice and broke out on the streets of one of Canada’s major cities. Fans became the equivalent of British Soccer Hooligans. The celebrating Boston Bruins players racked up a $100,000 bar bill—one can only hope no one attempted to drive home.

 

The news on Wednesday, September 7, 2011 was full of news  of  the fate of Sidney Crosby. It seems ironic that a team owned in part by Mario Lemiux, a player whose career was cut short by back trouble, did lot learn the lesson of a Wayne Gretzky and his shadow Marty MacSorley. No matter how big and tough the player, head injuries and concussions  threaten every player—just look at the likes of Eric Lindros. Being hired as an enforcer to ensure the protection  of  a  key star player may not be a glamorous gigue but it is one that Wayne has never denied saved his career  and  his  protector  followed him as he went from team to team wracking up record penalties ensuring the message was clear that any attack on Wayne would be met with reprisals.

 

Still on the topic of Hockey violence one of its chief proponents continues to be a Canadian embarrassment named Don Cherry. The death of his wife has made his grip on reality even more tenuous, his dog Blue often showing more intelligence. I suppose his continued presence on CBC Television mirrors the popularity of online services such as Hockey Fights.com which allow aficionados to download video of the previous night’s pugilism. The NHL has finally been shamed into taking measures to reduce the number of concussions in hockey. Even more disgraceful are the number of young players experiencing head injuries in their formative years as young goons with starry-eyed dreams of professional careers will stop at nothing to get ahead.

 

Tangentially the youngsters playing hockey and sports in general continue to become bigger and stronger as the North American population in general becomes taller and heavier due to improved nutrition, sanitation, and an enriched gene pool brought on by cross cultural interaction. The science of sports training has resulted in $1000 sneakers, $10,000 bikes, Teflon racing suits that can take swimmers up to half an hour to get into. The science of sports nutrition and training programs for athletes at all levels makes the concept of amateur athletics antiquated. No one can afford to devote the hours to training, access to the facilities required, the diets prescribed, and the nutritional supplements recommended unless he or she be independently wealthy or sponsored by a sports body, government, or celebrity endorsement. Hence the appearance of Sidney Crosbie’s image on a loaf of bread in Oakville Ontario.

 

Unfortunately bigger, stronger, more aggressive opponents make injuries to vulnerable body parts in players of contact sports more probable. Whereas weight training and body building can increase muscle mass relatively quickly the wear and tear on ligaments, tendons, joints, and spines is slower to heal and the damage is often cumulative. Damage to brains caused by concussions we are discovering is often permanent. The entire world became aware of the kinds of short cuts athletes will take to win when Ben Johnson disgraced Canadians by cheating with a drug meant to treat horses. Steroidal drugs and growth hormones boost muscle growth and stimulate more rapid healing. Unfortunately some can make their users more prone to sports injuries and they have side-effects: aggressive behaviour, testicular cancer and female hormones in men, bloating, heart disease, depression, mood swings, muscle tears, and early sudden death. The extent of hopped up bodybuilding was brought home to me when I visited the washroom of a training centre in Halifax with my brother-in-law and saw the over-flowing sharps disposal container there.

 

Until recent years Oakville Ontario which has been my permanent home had the dubious distinction of being the richest community in Canada. That wealth was of course concentrated among a fabulously wealthy elite that has been watered down by an influx of poorer neighbours. The extent of that poverty was recently brought home to me when I encountered a panhandler in the parking lot of a mall in an upscale neighbourhood. Begging on the streets had been unknown in Oakville.

 

Finally tidings of the failure of RIM’s Blackberry Network became big news last week. Having never owned a cell phone of any kind the blackout had no personal effect. However it’s an ill wind that blows no one good news. Although no direct correlation can be proven the rate of highway collisions during Blackberry’s downtime was reduced by up to 40%. 

Garths Guide to Travel Dans La Belle Province

When driving in Montreal don’t even think about running a yellow light, opposing traffic charges ahead the second the light turns amber. Cars in Quebec seem to lack  working signal lights but they do have horns. Don’t attempt to navigate in Quebec with a map made in English Canada; the same philosophy that created the road system should inform the guide. GPS do not fare much better. When a car passes you expect it to pull back in front of you two inches from your bumper. If a major expressway is not congested don’t be shocked if someone crosses five lanes to make an exit right in front of your nose—at least they no longer do it at 100 mph. Quebec highways do no have cloverleaf intersections. Exits occur on both sides of the highway. Services centres are often between the two lanes of traffic.

 

Chemin—road

Rue—street

Chemin de fer—railroad, literally iron road

Street names follow the designator.

 

Nord—north

Sud—south

Est—east

Oeust—West

 

Droit—right

Gauche—left

Arret—stop

Va—go

Debout—above

En Bas—below

Vite—fast

Lent—slow

 

Ouverte—open

Ferme—closed

Sortir—exit

Entre--enter

Circulation…. One way

Defence—Do Not

Travaux—construction, in Quebec controlled by the mafia

 

Pont—bridge

Tonneau—tunnel

Piste—ferry

 

Jour—day

Nuit—night

Soleil—sun

Pleut—rain

Neige—snow

Feux—fog

Vent—wind

 

Centre de Ville—down town

Hotel de Ville—city hall

Hotel Dieux—hospital

Caisse Populaire—bank, trust company

Bibliotechque—library

 

Food

Dejeuner—lunch

Petit Dejeuner—breakfast

L’oeufs—eggs

Jambon—ham

Erable—maple

Pain brille—toast

Beurre—butter

Blanc—white

Noir—black

Sucre—sugar

Poivre—pepper

Sel—salt

Du lait—milk

De L’eau—water

Crème-cream

Crème glace—ice cream

Pomme de terre frit—french fries

Poutine—add BBQ sauce, cheese curds, and gravy

Fromage--cheese

Poulet—chicken

Boeuf—beef

Tortiere—pie, meat pies are popular

Depenneur—grocery—usually sell beer and wine

 

St Hubert equates with Swiss Chalet

 

Dans La Salle Du Bain

Femme—women

Homme--Men

C—Chaud—Hot

F—Froid—Cold

 

Bonjour—Allo—good day, hello—if you make that effort most servers will answer you in English or find someone who can.

S’il vous plait—please

Merci—thank you

Ou Est—Where is? But men don’t ask directions and here you probably wouldn’t understand the answer.

Mange le merde—eat shit—thems fighting words

 

Le Surite Du Quebec, or QPP—fortunately I’ve never attracted their attention. Do ensure that all your paperwork is in order. Without it they’ll assume your vehicle is stolen.

Thinking abou the South

Having spent the last few years travelling a good deal throughout the American South I come to think about the clichés and put-downs that have become so common in our main-stream urbanized life. Having grown up in a small community and having travelled as well through remote sections of Canada I come to find a commonality among all isolated small-town environments. Mind you I’ve come to find a uniquely parochial disinterest in any matter not germane to the local interest on the American side of the border.

 

Small towns tend to be isolated, insular, xenophobic, and self-serving. The limited gene pool leads to situations such as the father who scotches his son’s romance with a high school sweetheart because the father clandestinely sired her. Limited opportunities lead to economic and intellectual poverty.

 

The kinds of sensibilities that inform metropolitan life become meaningless on the small town scheme of things. Privacy is a myth in a place where everyone knows everyone else and is either related or grew up with them. Whether you like someone or not you are dependent on them in times of emergency or life crisis. Fire departments are volunteer, the undertaker runs the ambulance service, the doctor is the coroner. When you’re the only physician within 200 miles you’ve no choice but to treat family members. Conflict of interest goes out the window when the town mayor owns the local car dealership and the general store. When the town sheriff is the only law in town and is the town barber. When the barrister runs the local watering hole.

Technological Change

The home in which I grew up got electricity in 1949—a refrigerator was required to keep the baby formula cold. Before power kerosene lamps were the order of the day and it was said that my grandmother was so frugal the family didn’t get light in the livingroom from the single lamp that was allowed to be lit until she finished up washing dishes in the kitchen. If you left a room without turning off the lights you heard about it from my father. To this day nothing matches the natural glow emitted by the grail of an Aladdin Lamp. Kerosene was not scented or treated in those days and homes smelt of the fuel—rural homes still keep oil lamps handy for when the power goes out to this day.

Battery operated radios produced wonderful sound because they lacked the alternating current hum emitted on AM Stations by electrified radios. I treasured that old radio and discovered the best antenna I could find was the metal of my bedspring when I was confined due to illness.

Before indoor plumbing the back door was always left unlocked as it led to the outhouse. Having a safe pathway shovelled to that essential service was a priority in winter. Cleaning chamber pots and thundermugs with Javex was an ugly but necessary task. Hand pumps got water into the kitchen, woe betide the child who left the lever in the wrong position causing the pump to lose prime. If no water could be found inside someone had to lower a pail into the well to dip water for the purpose.

Before electricity homes had ice houses and ice coolers. Every home had a mini-well in the basement to keep the creamer cool in summer. If you wanted skim milk you tapped the creamer, if you wanted cream you opened the creamer and dipped it off the top—nothing was homogenized in those days. The mechanical separator was turned until the bell in the handle no longer clanged and then a centrifuge separated milk from cream. Cream was allowed to go sour and then churned to make butter. Guernsey cows made the most naturally orange butter. Nothing produced today matches natural buttermilk.

We kept sheep until the only Nova Scotia carding mill closed and the wool had to be sent to New Brunswick. I’m told they still mail their wool to NB from Newfoundland to this day.

Family clothes were sew and mended on a foot treadle Singer Sewing Machine. The trick was to make sure the next bag of flour or sugar bore the same pattern as the last so you’d have enough cotton for the dress or blouse you were making.

I was home sick with the Red Measles when our first telephone was installed. Being on a ten-party line it was assumed someone else was listening in on your calls, the annoying thing was when they answered the phone before you did. I don’t remember seeing my father answer the phone, if he needed to talk to someone he got into his Ford Pickup Truck and drove to talk to them in face to face.

Baddeck on Cape Breton Island, where the telephone was invented--unless you live in Brantford Ontario--was one of the last places in Canada to get rotary dial telephones. Telephone rings such as three ring 13 were not uncommon and someone manned the central exchange as operator. Today most children wouldn’t know what to do with a rotary phone. Bell Canada still flagrantly charges extra for digital dialing.

I still own my Smith Corolla Manual Typewriter though I’m not aware of where I’d obtain a typewriter ribbon. Correction tape was a necessity and copies were made by using onion skin and carbon paper. Computer word processors such as the one upon which I am composing this document make editing and correcting a snap. What was life like before spell check, automated thesaurus, and dictionary software. Whenever I eat corn on the cob I still think of the Heckle and Jeckle Cartoon in which they peck at corn cobs like a typewriter carriage with a bell sounding at the end before the carriage gets thrown. Jack Kerouac would have typed On The Road on a roll of paper towel, word processors do not run out of paper or run off the end of the page. Did you know the letters are arranged that way to ensure less likelihood of letters jamming if they struck the paper at the same time?

When was the last time you used a fountain pen? Have you ever used a quill and ink? The old one-room school I attended still had desks with holes for ink wells. Boys like my father dipped girl’s pig tails in the ink. I still have my father’s slate and slate pencil. Once your work was corrected the slate was cleaned with a damp cloth. Did you have an abacus as a child? Were you taught to use a slide rule? Were you aware that there is no Roman Numeral for zero? Do you know Morse Code?

Television arrived in my home only a short time before I left home for good. If I wanted to watch Tales from the Riverside or Thunderbirds in Supermarianation I had to visit my Grandfather or go to the neighbours. With one TV in a family one neighbour household watched Doctor Kildare one week and This Hour has Seven Days the next. There were two choices of channels—CBC or CTV.

The advent of video players—cassette or DVD has changed the nature of island life forever. In places such as Grand Manan the ferry schedule made it impossible to go to a movie on the main and get home the same day. When I visited the island every grocery store, barber shop, garage, coffee shop, and drug store on the island rented movies. Today kids sit in their rooms and play computer games. Before that families sat around the TV and no one was allowed to talk unless a commercial was playing. During important games the men at the sewage treatment plant didn’t need a TV to know when breaks in play occurred. Before all these modern technologies families played cards and parlour games. Every parlour had a foot operated treadle type harmonium. Rich families had player pianos and rolls. People made their own entertainment and they actually talked to one another.

Modern paved highways and reliable fast motor cars have made commuting long distances commonplace. The drive from my home to Halifax was once 103 miles and took 3 hours. Now I can make the 90 KM trip in under an hour. Before the advent of Consolidated Schools Lunenburg County, NS, possessed at least three distinct dialects or regional accents. I was bused over seven miles of dirt roads 25 miles to high school—mud in spring and fall, ice and snow drifts in winter, and dust in summer—three to a seat in a vehicle with dodgy brakes. School buses ran to take kids to dances. Glee Club was a major event. I got my picture in the Halifax Chronicle for singing in the Kiwanis Music Festival and bused to Lunenburg to sing in the stars of the festival concert. My first trip to Halifax to visit an allergy specialist was a major event. Today I and my RV have travelled 75,000 KM circling North America twice.

The letters I sent home to my parents from University took 3 days to arrive. This message will arrive in a CBC inbox seconds after I hit send. Via instant messaging we can ‘talk’ immediately. Chess games by mail once took months to complete, now we can play online games with immediacy. If someone took the time to sit down, write you a letter, buy postage, and walk to a post box to send it the recipient felt some obligation to post a response. I’d appreciate the same courtesy for the effort I put into writing this anthropological essay.

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My first ‘record’ was a shellac 78 rpm copy of Bimbo followed by an original 78 of Rudolph on vinyl. Both were worn to death on my Mother’s 1930ies Victrola. Long playing disks were capable of playing for approximately 5 minutes before the disk had to be turned over manually. The needle needed frequent cleanings and regular replacements and exerted several pounds of pressure on the disk. The singer on those early disks was rarely identified, only the orchestra, as voices did not reproduce particularly faithfully.

Contrast this with vinyl 33 rpm records that could record up to half an hour of music per side and could be stacked to play for hours with a cartridge and stylus exerting micro-grams of pressure on the disk. My Mother thought the voices were real.

Cassette tapes for the first time made players portable. Afficiandos had for decades listened to and recorded sound on giant reel to reel recorders at speeds of up to 15 inches per second. Cassette players suffered from the bane of tape hiss but finally anyone could afford to take music wherever they went.

Compact Disks truly entered the electronic age electronically sampling sound and converting it back though to the discerning ear with a certain sheen. Capable of holding 80 minutes of music for the first time an entire symphony could be recorded on one disk--unless we’re talking Mahler or Bruckner. My cataloguing CD Player can play over 24 hours of music non-stop and the laser that reads the disk never physically touches it. CD Players were made portable but suffered from skipping if jiggled too much.

Enter MP3 Players. Finally a runner can place a portable player the size of a large wrist watch on his/her wrist or upper arm and go jogging as the device has no moving parts. Larger players can hold ‘cards’ that contain days of music. The compressed files may not faithfully reproduce the 24 cycle per second tone of a 64 ft bombarde reed at Notre Dame de Paris but for pop music that feeds on distortion they’re ideal. A 5 terrabyte hard disk can hold years of music. A nine-speaker system can literally place you in a concert hall.

I’ve seen a cylinder recording of Caruso played on an acoustic horn player and I’ve sat in a subway car and heard youngsters doing their ears permanent damage with ear buds blasting ‘music’ I can hear across the aisle. Times have changed from the old crystal set that picked up radio signals and played music in an ear phone using the energy of the broadcast signal to create sound.

Home Security

For the first eighteen years of my life I was blissfully unaware of the need for security. Until I left home in 1967 I’d never felt the need to carry a key or think of finding a locked door. Since all my neighbours were relatives and grew up with my parents and my parent’s parents even the act of knocking on a door was foreign to me, one simply opened the door and walked in. A far cry from neighbours and friends in a modern city whom visiting involves calling first and making prior arrangements for a visit. My parents did not grow up with phones or even electricity. Homes were built on hills so that neighbours could see each others lamplight and know everything was okay. The front porch door was hooked to indicate the residents had retired for the night, the back door which led to the outhouse was never locked unless everyone went away for an extended period of time and with cows to milk every 12 hours that was rare indeed.

Contrast that with my life today. On a country farm the key to the family car is likely to be found either in the ignition or the trunk lock. Closing my car involves arming the security system. Going for the mail involves locking my front door after I leave the apartment, the door is never left open at any time, taking the elevator down to the main floor and walking down four flights of stairs, a quarter-mile walk usually outside after exiting the building, two more entrance doors one locked, unlocking the mailbox and relocking it, then throwing away the junk mail. Most of what I receive. The return journey involves two exit doors, another walk across the parking lot, another set of entrance doors, one locked, a wait for the elevator, and unlocking my house door. Visiting my storage locker involves my house door, 5 storeys by elevator, a locked corridor, my locker key, finding an overhead pull-string light, then the reverse journey. Getting to my underground parking involves the same elevator ride and two sets of doors with a cramped interlock room. Entering or exiting the garage involves activating a self retracting garage door weighing two tons, two steep ramps, and a series of tunnels designed by an architect who obviously rode a bike and never owned a car.

Remembering 9/11

Ten years ago on Tuesday, September 11, 2001 I was having breakfast with friends in Calgary when their daughter interrupted us to turn on the TV to display video of the towers falling in NYC. After a while repeated showings became just plain tedious. A few days later I was bemused to note that everyone at the security wall in Calgary Airport wore a turban and kirpan. Airlines still served meals back then and although I wasn’t allowed to take my jackknife and nail clippers aboard the plane metal knives and forks it seems were okay. 9/11 has become as iconic in American Mythology as December 7th, 1941. We did not round up everyone of Arabic decent, seize their property, and place them in concentration camps but the xenophobia, distrust, and suspicions remain much the same.

Anyone who has attempted to fly, cross a border, or enter a public building has felt the impact of the events of that day. Those that manage security concerns have felt themselves empowered and have become zealous in bolstering their empires in the name of public safety. Whether the hundreds of millions spent and the wars waged have made America one iota safer is open to question. It has made travel more onerous, added to public unease, and plunged America into a debt situation from which it will probably never recover. Somehow it’s ironic that the one remaining Communist Bloc Country now essentially owns America.

Those who fail to learn the lessons of History are fated to repeat them. If Russia, with half a million men could not subdue Afghanistan what does America think it can do. And why on earth did Canada allow itself to be dragged into this futile conflict? If the war has cost America 15 trillion dollars, dealing with the veterans for the next 60 years will cost 45. One wonders how much the people who sold out Osama Bin Laden were paid; I’d hate to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder as those people will.

Waging war on terror to win peace is a contradiction in terms. Since suicide bombers are so sure of the rightness of their cause they believe their deaths will transmit them immediately to heaven as they understand it. It is almost impossible to defend against someone who is willing to die in the attempt. If a small fraction of the money spent on the war on terror had been used to better the lives of these people we’d have allies rather than mortal enemies. When fear takes over imaginary Weapons of Mass Destruction become tangible and enemies are invented to give vent to that fear and anger. If 15 trillion dollars had been spent on research to find alternatives to fossil fuels we wouldn’t be dependent on Middle East Oil.

While North American Youth grow fat and unhealthy sitting in front of digital screens five generations of some Arab families have lived in refugee or resettlement camps emotionally and physically starved. They may not have much but they can see how others live on TV. Should we be surprised that such privation breeds discontent and resentment? Is there any lack of fodder for Islamic Zealots who would spread terror? Should we be surprised that a people with no hope embrace such philosophies so eagerly? Do we need to find a new target for our War on Terror?

August Rant

How soon a population gets urbanized! A generation or so ago most Nova Scotians would have been quite familiar with the little white-washed shack behind the barn. Properly managed outhouses do not have to be smelly, disgusting places. Mind you checking down the hole to make sure there’s nothing present you wouldn’t want to share intimate company with is not an unwise move. Keeping the seat closed not only helps to keep down odours but also cuts down on the insect population. The same dolts who fail to drop the seat at home it seems also don’t know enough to cover the hole. The ladies side I fear is no better.

What would you say if a stranger walked up to your door, came in and walked through your kitchen? During my three-day stay at Rissers Beach adults and children alike seemed to think nothing of walking inches from my windows between my picnic table and my RV. Were I to have stayed longer I’d have thought of putting up a strategically placed washline to discourage the behaviour. My awning and picnic table only moved the idiots to find a route around them. Some education about campground etiquette would seem to be in order.

As you drive in either direction past the roads to Lunenburg on the 103 in Nova Scotia you’ll see a sign that reads Bluenose in Port. What the sign fails to tell you is that the Bluenose is presently at the home of its original builder, Smith & Rhuland, in pieces barely enough of the original boat still usable in its rebuilding to call it a refit.

In my dream world I’m enacting a 5-figure fine to be exacted upon highway crews who leave up temporary construction signs when no workman are present overnight and on weekends. And they wonder why no one pays attention to those signs.

I like those automated construction traffic lights that tell you how many seconds until the light changes. Nothing worse than sitting there fifteen minutes looking at a habitant bored out of his tree wondering how much longer before he’ll let you go. Move so I can tell you’re not asleep on your feet.

Descending hills so steep your ABS engages is a frightening prospect. I was in low gear at the time.

Everyone granted a driver’s licence should have to prove they know how to merge in and out of traffic at a cloverleaf intersection. Should someone who slams on the breaks in the middle of an expressway be surprised if they get rear-ended? If you don’t accelerate into the break in traffic I’ve left in front of my vehicle it’s not my problem. I’m not going to break so you can enter and then step on the gas.

There are two kinds of campground owners. Those who enjoy welcoming new guests and those who think it’s a money-making venture and find campers an inconvenience.

The Province of Quebec operates ‘National’ Parks, it ignores the existance of Canadian National Parks.

Is it legal to call fries smothered in Cheese Whiz and gravy poutine outside Quebec? Must everyone get in on the craze?

There’s a special place in hell where I’ve consigned the blighter who walked off with my walking stick while I was up the observation tower on Mt St Albans in Forillon National Park. Imagine if looks could kill when I ran into him on my way back to my campsite.

No fair. Someone has planted a row of spruce trees that will block the view of Pierced Rock from the best and only public viewing park in Roché Percé.

Is it a beach if the water’s too cold for anyone to swim?

I really didn’t need fireworks at Caraquet New Brunswick nor the gusting gale-force winds that almost blew over my RV. The 8 hour series of thunderstorms that knocked out power, struck two people, and lit up the sky over Halifax while the rain drummed off the roof was not necessary either.

I had no idea shelling pecans was such a challenge. Took me an entire day to shell half a gallon and I can’t even eat them.

Eat clams and chips at John’s Lunch in Dartmouth near the ferry terminal. Just watch out, the owner isn’t above sampling the fries on your plate. Be warned cash or Interac only.

Did you know that new or rotated tires should be retorked after 50 miles of driving? How can it take 45 minutes to get 5 L of synthetic oil from the parts department to the service bay? Ask me if I’ll ever patronize GM in Dartmouth again?

Is an E-mail correspondence if no one ever answers? Don’t you detest people who send one sentence answers or junk E-mail which they’ve forwarded from someone else after it’s travelled half way round the world already?

LaHave Outfitters in LaHave, Lunenburg County Nova Scotia with wharf along its side was operated by the Gray Family for centuries. Today its three storey bulk houses the LaHave Bakery with ovens in its basement, various other businesses and several living spaces. In the former front office still sits the massive 6-ft safe locked because no one now knows the combination.

The cable ferry still plies back and forth across the LaHave River between LaHave and West LaHave.

An aging population on Tancook Island still grows cabbages and markets the eponimous sauerkraut.

Visited the Land Registry Office for the Regional Municipality of the County of Lunenburg. When I had my land in Midville surveyed not only did it cost a fortune and take six years; its registry also ellicited 4 new tax bills and fire protection fees from Northfield Fire Department for property that’s inaccessible. In adding those new bills they maintained an old one that in effect taxed me twice for the same land. They’re investigating it.

Why I make most of my own meals in my RV! The eleven dollar bowl of seafood chowder only looked big. Its wide shallow edges sloped to a tiny centre section. Hunks of fish obviously added at the last minute to the broth were still raw, it was accompanied by a single small dinner roll. Two lawn mowers started up next door just after the soup arrived after a long wait. The scoop of ice cream added to the dried out Dutch Apple Pie could best be described as niggardly. Why did I give that waitress a tip?

The sidewalks in Mahone Bay are rolled up at 5 o’clock on a Friday Night, even in summer at the height of tourist season. Driving home to my campsite after an evening concert at one of the Churches by the Sea in the fog was not a pleasant experience. We watched the fog bank eat the world and hide the full moon while enjoying cookies and punch on the lawn during the intermission. Earlier the electrical system at that campground was not up to the task of supporting my A/C unit.

It’s an ill wind that blows no one good. One positive side-effect of the present downturn in the economy, the bad weather, and the rising cost of gasoline is the opportunity to drive up to nearly any private campground and obtain a spot to camp without prior reservation. Popular provincial and national parks still require a reservation, particularly on long weekends but bad weather cancellations can open spots even there. Good for people such as myself, not necessarily good for campground operators.