Life in North Bay

It’s ninety-four days since the movers carted our belongings off to a warehouse in Calgary and we headed for the west coast on our way to Ontario. And now we’re in North Bay. We’ve unpacked almost everything and, except for the disaster in the basement, the place is in pretty good shape. There’s very little in our pile of stuff to which I’m particularly attached, but as we reassembled it in our new location it somehow created that mysteriously comforting quality called “home”.

We’ve been here two months and we’re discovering that North Bay is a very nice place to live. It’s relatively small, only about 56,000, situated on the north shore of Lake Nipissing. – In Ontario it’s hard not to be situated on the shores of a lake as there are 3,899 of them, counting only those of 3 sq km or more. In fact, we actually live in a district of North Bay called Trout Lake, because that’s the name of the lake we’re closest to.

Apart from mugginess, which I remember disliking from my Kentucky days, the weather has been beautiful. There are more than enough stores for nonshoppers like us, and enough nice restaurants to keep us till we can get away to Toronto. Regardless where you live in North Bay you’re within a twenty minute walk of a Tim Hortons, and if you want a better cup of coffee Twiggs is a nice Starbucky place just a five minute drive away. (Nothing in North Bay is much more than a five minute drive away.)

We live in a three bedroom, “semi-detached” town house ( it’s on the end of the row). Not a high class place. But, as in Kansas City, you can walk to the privy on a rainy day and not get your feet wet, so we’re not complaining. And, best of all, it’s an eight minute walk from our front door to Maggie and Esther’s front door. We came here to be a full time grandparents and it looks like we’re perfectly situated for the job.

And it’s a great job too. For example, at the beginning of July Maggie had her 4^th birthday and her mother made her a monkey-face cake. We were all wondering what fifteen month old Esther would say when she saw it. She loves monkeys so we figured she’d laps into monkey sounds or something of the sort. Well, her daddy picked her up and showed her the cake. “What’s that?, he asked. She pointed, laughed, and squealed “Grampa!”

To quote Simeon, “Now, Lord, you can let your servant depart in peace.” I mean, does it really get any better than that?

The country hasn't changed that much.

A sober-faced journalist peers from the TV screen into my living room. “If the election were held today...” she intones, and then tells me who would win as she recites the results of the latest poll. The introductory phrase is intended to create the impression that what she’s saying is of great significance, but the one thing we all know for sure is that the election won’t be held today. Between the dropping of the writ and election day there’s always six to eight weeks of campaigning. And, as we’ve just seen, campaigns matter.

When the campaign for this latest federal election began I was one of those who expected little change. I thought it was possible that the Conservatives would get the majority they were hoping for, but only by the slimmest of margins. And that all else would probably remain essentially unchanged: Liberals, NDP, Bloc, and perhaps one Green. But, as I’ve said, a lot can happen is a few weeks.

The Conservatives did get their coveted majority winning 166 of the 308 seats. But the rest of the Commons was also radically redrawn. The Liberals were cut down from 77 seats to 34. The Block was decimated, going from 49 seats to 4. The NDP soared to an historic high of 103 seats, and the status of official opposition, up from 37 seats in 2008. And the green got their leader, Elizabeth May elected; their first seat ever.

I hope the country will benefit from the stability of knowing there won’t be a change of government for at least four years, and it will be interesting to see Quebec represented in the House of Commons by a federalist party. The Liberals need to be reminded that the “natural governing party” in a democracy is the people. And a lonely “green” voice, that says it hopes to be a voice for civility, can’t be a bad thing, provided Ms. May can survive that much loneliness.

But, we need to note that there has been considerably less change than the realignment suggests. Our system amplifies small changes, and often produces results that have little to do with voter sympathies. Theoretically, for example, in a five party race, one party could take 100% of the seats with just over 20% of the vote. The likelihood of this actually happening is vanishingly small, but the eccentricities of the system should be kept in mind when analysing what actually happened.

In Quebec, the Bloc lost over 90% of it’s seats, but this is not the wholesale rejection we might imagine. It actually represents a mere 15% decline in popular vote. The NDP, on the other hand have increased their representation in Parliament 278% with an increase of less than 12.5% in voter preference. The Liberals have plummeted to third party status for the first time in their history, with a decline of only 7.3% in their vote share. And the Conservatives have taken control of the House of Commons, taking 53.9% of the seats, with only 39.6% of the votes, and a mere 2% increase in their voter share.

The country has not changed nearly as much as some are suggesting, and not nearly as much as the House of Commons. Relatively small changes produced this startling result, and small changes could turn it all back.

Good Long Weekend

My goodness! An awful lot has happened since April 8, my last blog, but it was really that April 30 - May 2 long weekend that did the trick. That 72 hour period saw the demise of Michael Ignatieff, Gilles Duceppe, and Osama bin Ladin, and the rise of Stephen Harper and Jack Layton. Well, you can’t have everything, but I think, all in all, most would say it was a pretty good weekend. Of course, some might be insulted that I’ve lumped the demise of Ignatieff and Duceppe in with that of bin Ladin, but those al-Qaeda folks complain about everything. Who cares what they think?

And I might as well admit right off the top, I do believe bin Ladin is dead. The US government says he is, and al-Qaeda has confirmed it. Admittedly, both these organizations have lied to us in the past, but not usually about the same thing in the same way. There is, of course, the bit about the body they dumped in the ocean, the picture they won’t show us, the DNA evidence that only a half dozen people can vouch for, and the fact that only a half dozen people can actually claim to have been there when they killed him. Well, I still think he’s dead.

There are people who don’t believe it. One guy on a phone-in show said he’d buy it when they produced the death certificate, but then backtracked pondering whether it might be created by the same people who created Obama’s birth certificate. Perhaps it was Donald Trump, but I don’t think we should pay any more attention to him till he comes clean about what’s happening to his hair.

And, on a more serious note, I do think it’s interesting that there seems to be a tacit admission by the Americans that this was a kill, not a capture mission. It’s understandable if it was, of course. Indeed, it would be hard to imagine that it wasn’t. But that does make it an assassination, raising the spectre of the CIA’s worst historical practices. And it’s a violation of both International and American law. This is a bad thing. And, if he was captured and murdered, it’s a war crime.

Now, it’s not that I want a fair trial for bin Ladin. I want a fair trial for me, and much more, for all the people he and his friends terrorized and murdered over the years, for the families of his victims, and even for those who were sympathetic to his cause.

Trials, with all their limitations, have a way of bringing to light things we could never otherwise know. And it’s a shame that such a dark figure, and such a dark period, should end shrouded in the obscurity of a covert military operation. The rule of law is a hindrance to the great powers of the world, and a protection for the little folk. We’re all little folk, and we deserve more than a confused account of what happened, even if it comes from “the good guys”.

I’ll leave my comments on the federal election for my next blog. Right now I’d like to hear your response to this bin Ladin affair.

Do you think it matters that he’s gone?

Do you believe the story the Americans tell of his demise?

Do you believe it matters that there will be no trial?

Have you felt safer in May than you did in April?

Here we go again.

Well, we’re off to the polls May 2^nd. The government has fallen on a vote of non-confidence, which is to say, the opposition parties all got together and decided they don’t trust Stephen Harper and the conservatives. And, since we don’t joust anymore, and the mace on the table is only symbolic, that means election time. That’s modern, parliamentary democracy for you; not as entertaining, sensible or productive as mortal combat, but what can you do?

We will now spend the next few weeks following one non-story after another:

- Gilles Duceppe says “Stephen Harper lied.”

- Michael Ignatieff says “Stephen Harper misled the House.”

- Stephen Harper says “Michael Ignatieff is not a real Canadian.”

- Jack Layton agrees with Michael Ignatieff and Gilles Duceppe that Stephen Harper can’t be trusted, though he is still undecided as to Michael Ignatieff’s true nationality.

- Elizabeth May says “Jack Layton, Michael Ignatieff, Gilles Duceppe and Stephen Harper should settle down and learn to get along.”

- Some Liberal candidate said he didn’t think all sexual assaults are the same. A statement that obviously could be true depending what it means.

- The conservatives, NDP, and Bloc say this is shameful regardless what it means, and that the candidate should be fired.

- The Liberals agree that it is shameful regardless what it means, but he's a good man so he won’t be fired.

- Someone showed up at a Conservative rally in a chicken suit challenging Harper to debate Ignatieff.

- Ad nauseam, which is Latin for “I think I’m going to throw up”.

And then someone has the nerve to complain about “voter apathy”.

If you go to the Elections Canada website there’s a neat little chart of all the federal elections since Confederation, and you will see that voter turnout has ranged from a high of 79.4% in 1958 to a low of 58.8% in 2008. (There is a 44.6 recorded in 1898, but that was a referendum.) This means there has never been a federal election in Canada in which less than half the eligible voters voted, and it’s only in the last decade or so that the turnout has been less than two thirds. Now, I’m not sure what people expect, but this doesn’t seem dismally low to me. How many voluntary activities in this country can gather up more than 55% of the people all the time, and over 65% most of the time. No, it’s not the voters who are failing in this country, but the politicians and the media. Or, more precisely, it’s the entire political system. And what it needs is an uprising of citizens demanding a BIG RETHINK.

MIRRORS ARE USEFUL, EVEN IF YOU DON’T ALWAYS LIKE WHAT YOU SEE.

My father was a Member of the Legislative Assembly (MLA) in Alberta from 1944 till they “threw the bums out” in 1971, and a Cabinet Minister beginning in 1955. He was generally treated respectfully by supporters and opponents alike but he was also, from time to time, subjected to both fawning adulation and nasty criticism. He took it all in stride and, for the most part, we kids did too. Just life in the public eye. Occasionally I was the focus of a little misdirected abuse, but it was kind of fun being a minor celebrity. And one of the things I most enjoyed was watching my friends discover who my dad really was, as opposed to the impression they had gathered through the media. Politicians are seldom as good or bad, wise or foolish, caring or uncaring as they seem on TV.

When friends got to know me, one of the things they were often surprised to discover was the cartoon wall in our family room where Dad hung the originals of many of the political cartoons that had lampooned him over the years. He loved those things, partly, I suppose, because they affirmed his significance, but also because they burst his bubble a little, and critiqued his ideas. Everyone needs critics and bubble bursters. They help you see yourself as others see you.

C. J. Peiffer, in a comment on my October 18 post last year Let God be God mentioned that she, like Mark Twain, is a religious sceptic, and recommended his Letters From the Earth and Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven. Both of these books are indeed well worth reading, especially for those who would consider themselves religious.

Mark Twain was a great social satirist and critic, and particularly so when it came to religion. And I, being what many would call a religious person, particularly enjoy him, as most sensible religious people do. You see, being a religious person doesn’t mean believing in religion, any more than being a politician means believing in politics. Religious people and politicians believe in their own religion and politics. Politicians, for example, generally think most politicians are idiots. Those in their own party are a cut above perhaps, but even there they will find plenty who need improvement. Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Christians, etc. believe what they believe, which is generally a subset of the things believed even in their own faith community. As a Catholic I found lots of religious ideas, even Catholic ones, laughable. And this didn’t change when I became a Baptist. So, an awful lot of the things Twain ridicules, most religious people also find ridiculous. Religion, like all things human, is peculiar, to say the least.

Mark Twain scoffed at religion, not God. He was irreverent, not blasphemous. Some couldn’t and can’t make that distinction because they fail to distinguish between their ideas about God and God him/her/itself. -- See what I mean? -- There is a good biblical word for the confusion of our notions of God with God as God is. The word is “idolatry”, and the function of the religious sceptic is to tear down idols. But, if you happen to be worshipping that idol at the time, you’re not going to like it.

The Mark Twains of the world are, to religious folk, what political cartoonists are to politicians; they burst our bubbles, critique our ideas, and help us see ourselves as others see us. This is good, and it can also be fun and funny.

Mr. Deity is a great example of contemporary religious satire, but because it arises in North American culture its target is largely Judeo-Christian religion. I suspect, therefore, that Jews and Christians enjoy it most. But if you are not a Jew or Christian, don't feel left out, you can make your own. Only thing is, if a community wants to reap the benefits of having satirists and critics within it you can’t go shooting them. Not that satirists and critics won’t risk getting shot, just that the ones who will aren’t usually the really funny ones.

Oh, by the way, Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all the Irish and Irish wannabes out there. Don’t know if we have any Leprechauns left in Alberta. But I notice we don’t have any Lepre Colonies.

EDUCATION IS A COMMUNITY THING.

Back in January I posted a blog, Just One Little Word, about a controversy swirling around the teaching of Mark Twain’s masterpiece, Huckleberry Finn. In response I received a very gracious comment from C. J. Peiffer, an artist and writer in Pennsylvania. How cool is that? I sit in my comfy-chair spilling out my thoughts, such as they are, to people all over the world, and if they are kind enough to do so, they can take the time to write a very encouraging and enlightening note. How cool is that? Of course, if Mark Twain were here he would have some wry and witty comment to make about the Internet but, after worming my way into the same paragraph with this comic genius I find, How cool is that?, is all I have to say. Well, even a cat can look at a king.

In her comment C. J. tells of a project she was part of aimed at teaching Huck Finn to middle school students (junior high), in spite of the oft repeated N-word. They did it by raising the scope and profile of the project, creating an entire unit around the book and making it an occasion for teaching history, art, music, science and drama. They rather than suppressing the N-word they promoted serious discussion of it and the problem of racism. And they involved parents by inviting them to a meeting to discuss their concerns. No one showed up, which might cause someone to suggest that all this effort was unnecessary, but I expect it indicates that the real concern parents have about these sorts of things is that they will be marginalized and ignored. It’s amazing how much trust and good will we have for people who respect and involve us.

And herein lies a host of great lessons:

1. Fighting back or withdrawing are often the only alternatives we consider when a project we believe in encounters resistance, On many occasions, however, what we really need to do is press in. By this I mean, continue to pursue our goals in such a way as to involve those who are concerned.
2. People have every right to resist, especially when something we are doing reaches into their personal or family life in a significant way. We need to value what they have to say, even if it upsets us or we feel we will disagree.
3. People generally have good reasons for concern, if only from their own perspective. When we accept and acknowledge them we often find that this is really all they want.
4. We learn more form our opponents than from those with whom we already agree. Regardless how bright or right we are, we cannot see all sides of anything at once. If we foster discussion and debate we may be amazed at what we learn.

The project C. J. Peiffer describes is an example of great teaching, Schools are among the most important institutions in any community but as such they need to involve the community. As they say, it takes a village to raise a child.