A Break

No new posts as things are busy.  Taking a break for a few days.

U.S.A.F. Niagara Falls, New York

We spent the entire day in Niagara Falls, New York, and on a break, I made a quick run to a Wendy’s restaurant. In front of me in line were four young Air Force men who looked to be in their late teens, or very early twenties. Behind me was a young couple with a baby, and behind them more Air Force men.

As I stood there waiting in the queue, I chatted with the couple beside me who said their baby had been fussy in the car. As we were talking, the Air Force lads were playing with the baby and keeping her entertained, and it struck me that these boys, dressed in fatigues and black boots, are like all the other American boys being sent to Iraq, many of whom never return.

It reminded me that wars are fought by the young men, those barely out of high school and, at that moment, it seemed wrong that the men standing near me should be sent where too many others have lost their lives. It also reminded me of the American Cemetery in Normandy, France, where I saw field after field of white crosses with the names and ranks of fallen soldiers of the second world war; those buried in France the same age as these Air Force boys. I marvelled at their camaraderie, their courtesy, and couldn’t help but wonder what their futures held.

I hope there is an end to the war in Iraq.

Kudos to… JetBlue Airways

Yet again, JetBlue Airways impresses me with its service.

A friend and I flew to New York a while ago, my first time on JetBlue and I must say I was extremely impressed overall.  Yesterday, I collected my daughter and her friends at Buffalo Airport when they returned from Florida, their flight fifteen minutes early.  (Yes, early-arriving flights still happen.)  One of the girls had to speak to a customer service rep about a (late-boarded) bag that had gone astray at JFK, but within one minute (I shit you not, Terry…) the employee located the suitcase online, knew exactly where it was, and arranged to have it delivered that evening.

This may sound trivial and par for the course, but the JetBlue employee was extremely polite and helpful, not to mention the epitome of efficiency.  I’ve stood in line at baggage counters over the years like most travellers, only to have a page of suitcase pictures shoved in front of me and a few terse instructions barked in my direction… “…fill this in and sign your name.  We’ll see if we can find it, but we can’t promise anything.”

JetBlue was the first airline to make lost baggage a quick and painless exercise.

Niagara Life Magazine: A Lesson in Vanity

I clicked a link this morning to Niagara Life Magazine’s website.  (**Not to be confused with the interesting and informative Niagara Magazine, which can be found here.)

The first blurb I read was this:

“Niagara Life magazine enjoys one of the most affluent consumer demographics of any publication in the Niagara Region. Niagara Life appeals to readers who have discriminating tastes and are able to afford the things about which they are truly passionate.”

The second was this:

“Niagara Life celebrates the uniqueness of the entire Niagara Region. Features promote Niagara’s culinary venues, wineries, culture, arts, entertainment and more. Niagara Life enjoys one of the most affluent demographics of any publication in the region, distributing 50,000 copies to readers who are able to afford the finer things in life.

Award winning photography, editorial and graphics make this a MUST HAVE for those with discriminating taste.”

Now, what impression are you left with after reading this rather imperious introduction? I daresay it should have added, “…readers who are not up to snuff need not waste their time, or the magazine’s.

See, I’m of the opinion that in today’s struggling economy, self-serving magisterial comments like these are teetering on the dangerous side, able and ready to skid down the slippery slope to where other defunct publications have already met their end.

Isn’t it marvellous that Niagara Life Magazine is so assured of continued success that it need only appeal to readers having discriminating tastes and those able to afford the finer things in life?

Canada: Red, White… and Green?

So, here you’re looking at the newly unveiled Canadian Olympic uniforms.

If one can call them that.

Keeping in mind that everyone will have an opinion, some liking the styles, some not, I have to say I’m on the ‘not’ side.

At first I thought I was having a flashback to the 1970s leisure suits, though they were mostly powder blue, whereas these are… well, I’m not quite sure. The only thing I am sure of is that they certainly don’t appear to be fitting for the national Olympic team, but rather more in line with surplus army fatigues confiscated post-war on Easter Island, or, at best, adequate for a Saturday morning at Vic Tanny’s.

Suddenly, the flashbacks return and I see visions of the bargain basement at Woolworths… or was it the BiWay? No, wait, it may have been Kresge’s, K-Mart, or the Giant Tiger.

No, to be fair, Giant Tiger has some pretty decent stuff, comparatively speaking.

And what’s with the headband on the David Cassidy lookalike? Even Shirley Partridge wouldn’t have dressed her band of kid-musicians in this gear. I’m fairly sure that if Keith turned up on the psychedelic Partridge bus in this hippy garb, Danny would have to call in Mr. Kincaid for a man to boy chat.

But then these are, apparently, eco-friendly and organic. (Isn’t it de rigueur for everything to be eco-friendly, green, and organic these days?) I guess our bold red and white Canuck combo doesn’t cut it anymore, perhaps not eco-Canadian enough, but the clincher has to be that the materials used in these leisure suits help keep out the Chinese smog.

Say what?

“Designers have incorporated an element into the gear, called a B-Tube, which could help protect athletes from Beijing’s pollution. The sun-blocking polyester tube can be worn as a head cover, hair band or mask to filter out the particulate matter in the air.”

How about a mini, portable oxygen tank designed as an add-on to the iPod? Something along the lines of Apple teaming up its MP3 player with a particular Nike running shoe. That’s been readily available for some time at the Apple Store.

Will someone please reincarnate George Orwell? This ain’t 1984 no mo’.

Our Canadian athletes’ suits also use materials such as bamboo, organic cotton, and cacona, which is, so I’ve read, derived from coconut.

Still with me?

If you’re like me, one can only wonder how eco-friendly it must have been shipping and transporting all these materials into Canada, but that’s not to be spoken of. It’s a far better marketing strategy to inflict all the vogue eco-everything adverts on today’s consumers, and forget the real-time pollution and environmental costs behind the vendors’ ‘green’ claims.

And if you think that isn’t enough, astrology has also been incorporated into the designs by using the number 8, considered a lucky number by the Chinese. Now, where in hell is Nancy Reagan when you need to decipher the zodiac? (If astrology was good enough for Ronnie’s presidency, then it must surely be good enough for Canada’s Olympic team, don’t you think?)

Good grief, now we’re relying on astrology when we have the top Canadian athletes representing the country?

Of course, I must be showing my age, or, at the very least, behind the times.

Really, who am I to prefer sleek red and white uniforms over ’70s leisure suits?

Deerhurst

This past weekend was spent at the Deerhurst Resort in Huntsville, Ontario. Two hours north of Toronto, the town is just starting to see spring - buds just beginning to emerge on trees, though some spring flowers are in bloom.

On Friday evening, in the midst of a severe thunderstorm, I took the camera onto the Pavilion Terrace overlooking Sunset Bay, and Peninsula Lake just beyond. I stood underneath a sheltered area and took a few photos, and while the camera managed to capture the night scenery, I wish I’d had my videocamera to capture the sound of the rain and the thunder and lightning in the distance.

No camera, though, is able to capture the overwhelming scent of cedar only concentrated by the rain. I was the only person who was outside on such a night taking photographs, but I could have stayed on the terrace much longer had I not needed to be elsewhere.

If you’ve ever seen the 1987 film, “Dirty Dancing,” standing outside at Deerhurst Friday night reminded me of the Catskills resort featured in the film. (One half expected to see Johnny and Baby!)

A tiring three days, but of course we did manage to get through with the help of wine in the evenings and Shelley’s chocolate mint martinis mid-afternoon.

And youth counsellors and EpiPens will never be looked upon the same way again…

Pic of the Day

I took this shot about three or four years ago at the Zooma Zooma Café in Jordan Village.  A patron next to us had just left this particular table, so looking rather odd, I’m sure, to other patrons, I quickly snapped this photo.  I converted it to black and white to give it more street-like character.

Dreams of a Diaper-Diva.

As if Toronto isn’t beleaguered enough, rumour has it that George Smitherman is hinting of his desire to be the city’s next titular head. (This is the same gent who just recently suggested he don adult diapers to appreciate fully the plight of seniors in nursing homes who are left for extended periods of time in soiled undergarments.)

After reading The Star article here, I have to say that I have little time for grown men who can only hint and whisper amongst themselves of their latent desires to claw their way to the top of the political heap. Covert planning and all hush-hush, I’m convinced these sorts thrive on a bit of James Bond and Moneypenny gamesmanship.

So, dangling the supposedly coveted carrot in plain view, are the rest of us thought to be so naive that we can’t peg a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing?

For Chrissakes, George, if you want to be captain of the team, king of the hill, the big kahuna, just say it for cryin’ out loud! I don’t think there’s a whole lot of us who are enamoured with a man who speaks softly of his desires (at least outside of the bedroom…) to his cronies at ‘gala’ events.

On the other hand, being politics an’ all, what better way to get the word around than by murmuring surreptitiously into another’s ear a political secret, knowing it will spread faster than a California wildfire in August? They used to say loose lips sink ships, but Georgie’s just working the room, glad-handing, a few slaps on the back, paving his way on the yellow brick road to City Hall.

The tin-man cometh.

If you read the Star article, don’t miss Smitherman’s well-choreographed and unctuous admiration of his boss, Dalton McGuinty, who, allegedly, “unlocked one of the greatest secrets, one of the greatest pieces of magic of Toronto, which is to be found in her ravines.”

Huh?

Ravines! Dalton says one of the greatest pieces of magic of Toronto is….

One can’t help but wonder if this is what David Miller has overlooked all these years. Hey, Dave, the answers to Toronto’s ills are, according to Dalton, in the ravines. And all this time - since the ice age, in fact - who would have known?

Can you believe this clap-trap? How gullible do these clowns think we are?

Is there an elected public servant out there who is immune to this political logorrhea, to the draw of the media, to the spilling of secrets? If you ask me, it’s all too reminiscent of a sixth grade election for class president, or pretty much on par with Hillary and Barack’s infinite sniping just south of the border.

In our case, it ought to make for one interesting mayoral race in 2010.

Resurrecting Bruce

In progress.

Ramblings of a madman

This morning I read the article linked here in today’s issue of The Toronto Star, a story about Robert Baltovich being found not-guilty in the murder of Elizabeth Bain.

What really struck me, however, was the transcript of the police questioning Paul Bernardo. Bernardo, as you will see, is incapable of lucid or coherent answers, preferring instead to speak in fillers that take the long way around, leading up to a climax of… nothing.

I found it unnerving just reading the words.

Even though Bernardo killed Kristen French and Leslie Mahaffy in the early 1990s, they still come to mind each time I drive past the church on Linwell Road where Kristen French was abducted. I pass the church at least six times a week and never fail to think of Bernardo and Homolka pushing Kristen into their car. I feel the same sickening feeling every time, thinking of the high school teenager not far from her home or school further along the north-end street, and the same thought comes to mind: how could the abduction of Kristen French have gone unnoticed on a busy thoroughfare in broad daylight?

CONVERSATION WITH A KILLER

On June 7, 2007, police interviewed Paul Bernardo at Kingston Penitentiary and asked him about Elizabeth Bain. Here is a transcript:

Police: Um, did you kill Elizabeth Bain on June 19, 1990?

Bernardo: Well that’s a loaded question. I mean, are we going to go back and go through the time sequence of what happened in my life. I mean I could just give a yes or no answer. But you know, there are a lot of issues about that.

Police: Right.

Bernardo: You know, Karla’s and my role. Who did what, when, why – you guys, you know, go down there to get a polygraph to get to see if she’s telling the truth. Why didn’t they do it in the first place? … why would he make a deal with someone and not give them a polygraph? It’s incomprehensible. You know, because … my file says her version and it’s a lie. … I’m not making frivolous points here. And now, you’re asking me, after Peel Regional says I’m lying about this and now you’re saying I’m lying about my profile. … and now you’re saying hey, did you kill this person? I mean if you’re saying I’m lying here, here and here. I could say no, I didn’t, but, I mean you already said I’m lying here with the Peel. You say …

Police: I’m not saying anything about who’s lying. I’m simply …

Bernardo: And I’ve given you directions to go to find the truth and no one has done that.

Police: Right. And again I’ve told you that I’ve done the investigation from what information you’ve told me and … I’ve been able to verify in my mind where you’ve told me the truth. So if Peel Region is lying about you or someone else is lying about you, I have no control over that or (inaudible).

Bernardo: It goes right to credibility.

Police: Well, absolutely. … I hope to be able to go through some timelines here and identify where you were, what you were doing specifically in relation to this case.

Bernardo: Anyways, I know I’m giving you guys a hard time but I mean really. I’m a human being. When you guys do all these things, I’ve gotta. I’ll try to give you a little bit more but. Anyways the answer to that is no. But the 800-pound gorilla in a room – that’s life-25 sentence, you know. It really comes down to credibility.

Police: Right.

Bernardo: And not only credibility but then again timelines, what Karla’s and my roles were respectively and this and that – the answer is no to that question.

Police: Did you have anything to do with her disappearance?

Bernardo: No.

Police: Did you know Elizabeth Bain?

Bernardo: Not that I know of.

Police: Had you ever met her?

Bernardo: I’m going to answer that one with I don’t remember. Because if I did, I don’t remember. I know an ex-girlfriend, which I can think – but I don’t know.