Two sides of the coin...

I keep hearing deficit, dire financial times, we have to tighten our belts to weather this recession.  And then the gov’t that has been crying wolf for the last couple of years and continues to warn us that it will have to cut, cut, cut is now throwing around money, 35 billion for new fighter jets, 35 billion for new frigates and now billions more for nuclear submarines.  Are we in hard financial times or aren’t we?  Are we fighting the deficit or are we flush?  If the goal is changing the direction of policy-making then at least be honest about it.  If, as an administration, you care more about the military than social welfare or culture then say so.  Don’t pretend that you’re so constrained fiscally that you have to gut programs to balance the budget and then turn around and blow billions on stuff that you do care about.  One could just as easily argue the necessity of social programs as you do about the requirement for defence.  I could at least have some respect for you if you were as up-front about what you dismiss, social welfare and culture, as you are about your aims, a stronger military, a corporation-friendly economy and a harsher justice system.  You just can’t claim to be all things, all the time because it makes you dishonest half the time and I’m starting to wonder which half of the time it is.  We’re not so stupid as to not realize that the guy crying poverty while driving a brand-new Porsche might be lying about one thing or the other.

I'm unmoved...

Maybe I'm alone in feeling that way.  A couple of fairly high profile people have passed on recently, and while I recognize that these are tragic events worthy of sympathy I certainly haven’t internalized them.  I care but I’m not moved or affected really.  I don’t really feel any loss; it isn’t as though I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning wondering how I’ll carry on without this person’s influence in my life.   I’m certainly not about to shed tears for people that I’ve never even met (although I had met Jack Layton on a number of occasions, I certainly can’t claim to have known him). 

 

I don’t really understand how people can be all emotional over the passing of some celebrity or politician that they have no personal relationship with.  It all seems a little ingenuous to me.  What exactly are they mourning? What a person does or has achieved has little to do with who they are.  Isn’t it all a little selfish?  You’re crying that the guy who designed your phone won’t be designing your next one?  That the guy who agreed with your aspirations won’t be there to affirm you anymore?   I can appreciate that you can admire someone for their achievements but ultimately it isn’t as though their achievements go away when they do.  At least they will be remembered; something the vast majority of us will never have.

 

Craptastic...

It appears as though the view from my balcony is going to be restricted.  A developer has purchased the 4 houses to the back and just to the right (north) of my apartment building.  They are zoned for a 37 meter building which works out to about 14 stories but are asking for a bylaw variance to allow them to go as high as 90 meters or 28 stories.  28 stories!  Given that there are no buildings higher than 20 in the neighbourhood, they will by far be the tallest in the area.  Given that this city’s council has never met a developer they didn’t drop their pants for, I have no doubt that the 28 story solution is going to be adopted. 

The developer made a presentation to the surrounding apartment buildings last week that made it clear that were they forced to stick to the zoning they would build the biggest eyesore they could manage, and inconvenience the rest of the neighbourhood to boot.  But were they allowed to do what they want they would be the best neighbours ever!  Either  way it’s inevitable that something will be built there and that I’m anticipating at least a year of construction basically right outside my balcony, and 14 stories or 28, my view of the river is gone.

I’m sort of resigned to the reality that there’s little I can influence in this and I’m not gonna waste too much of my energy being upset about it.  I kinda knew it was just a matter of time anyway.  When I bought here 5 years ago and looked out the back to see the old, run-down houses and 3 story tenements lining the main drag I realized that eventually someone was going to do something there, especially given that the neighbourhood is supposedly on its way up.

For the time being the 3 story crack houses directly behind me are unaffected but I doubt it will be long before they go too and my whole view is eaten up.  I’ll be a little upset if nothing happens while the other building is going up just to be sold and developed immediately afterward.  Then, I’d be looking at probably 5 years of blasting, dust and construction.  The 5 year-old in me is thrilled to have a ringside seat to the construction of a building but I know that it will be far more pain-in-the-ass than vicarious thrill.

 Injection of Culture...

I'm in Niagara on the Lake for the Shaw Festival.  I try every year to alternate between Stratford and Shaw to get my little dose of culture and to feel, given my financial constraints, that I've managed to do something of value with my holidays.  
Generally, the Shaw ends up feeling like the little brother of Stratford, not so much because of the quality of the plays themselves but because the organization is so much more amateur than at Stratford;  the way the schedule works and how the tickets are sold, that kind of stuff.  Niagara on the Lake is certainly more high-end than Stratford that's for sure.  Stratford seems to cycle around the plays where at Shaw it's all about wine tours first, quaint Victorian town life second and the festival third in their esteem.  That much is obvious when you walk the streets and bars.  
If all these people were here strictly for the festival, like at stratford, there would be way more English people here.  I've barely heard any English being spoken since I got here.  I can't imagine that the plays of Shaw would be all that interesting if your fluency in English is sketchy.  The plays are all about puns, wordplay and double meanings (The Importance of Being Earnest is a perfect example)

Notes from the heartland...

Just back, well a couple of days ago, from a conference in Orlando.  Florida in June is it’s own special form of hell.  It wasn’t even particularly hot by Florida-in-June standards but it was 98 degrees everyday with an obscene amount of humidity.  Walking from building to building, all of 2 minutes, was enough to drench you in sweat.  How do people live here year-round?  Oh and the thunderstorms that rolled in every night were biblical in their intensity; cats and dogs and golf-ball sized hail and total sky lighting bolts. 

Orlando is a strange place in its own right.  I actually wasn’t in Orlando per se because the convention center is over near the resort area some 10 miles out of Orlando, to take advantage of the 25000 hotels rooms feeding Disney, Universal and Seaworld, so unless you consider Mickey and Daisy and Homer Simpson to be high-culture it’s an island of crass-commercialism and blatant tourist-gouging. 

Every time I’m in the States I’m reminded of how uniquely different they are.  I don’t find it to be a sociable, hospitable or particularly humane place.  While I’ve rarely met an American that was anything but nice to me, it just feels like a hostile, merciless society generally.  It felt like there was little consideration for other people except insofar as they could get something from you.  I liken it to being pecked to death by ducks.  Every where you turn no one misses an opportunity to fleece you a little.  II can’t say that I would ever go back to Orlando, or to most places in Florida for that matter, because I don’t like feeling like a mark, valued only for the money I spend.   Maybe I’m just being naïve but I’ve rarely been made to feel that way in any other country.  

Moreover, this me-first attitude seems a little cruel to someone raised in a country with a social conscience.  Not that Americans don’t have a sense of charity, they most certainly do but that’s also how they view it, as charity, completely voluntary and done out of a sense of pity rather than on the rising-tide-raises-all-boats sense of social responsibility we have here; no one’s looking out for anyone else. 

On another point, being there really makes me miss the 1 dollar bill.  It’s just so much easier to deal with; down there I’m not routinely stuck with 2 pounds of change in my pocket, that there foldin’ money’s just lighter to carry around and use.  I still don’t get why, when the Canadian dollar’s stronger than the American one, everything is still so cheap here; books, clothing, electronics, all of it is still 25% less expensive compared to back home and that’s not even mentioning the sales taxes.

The conference?, meh, not all that exciting, barely even worth mentioning.

The greatest thing since sliced bread...

I recently replaced all the baseboards that my ex-girlfriend’s dog ate; he was particularly fond of the corners.  Yeah, it’s been a year in the coming, I was busy alright? I did about half of the work using a hammer and finishing nails and it took a ridiculous amount of time to say nothing of the banged up baseboards themselves (you can’t drive 150 finishing nails without missing once in a while).  After telling my buddy about the ordeal of the finishing nails he offered to lend me his powered nailer.  I gratefully accepted and only gave him shit for 15 minutes or so for not mentioning it sooner.  Well, the rest of the job took virtually no time at all and there’s certainly a Rambo-esque feeling to driving 2 inch nails with the lightest touch of a finger (and a satisfying thunk to go with it).  Gotta get me one o’ these things…

 

What I think it's like to be rich...

It was only after I went on my diet that I came to realize that food was the only part of my life where I was free to do as I liked.  Apparently I live a life of frugality.  My indulgences are tiny, insignificant even.  I golf a dozen times a summer or so and ski a half-dozen.  That’s basically it.   I live in as much apartment as I can afford, I drive the cheapest car it’s  possible to own, even my hobbies are on the cheap. 

Vices, not really.  No drugs, no gambling, smoking or even philandering despite not even having anyone to philander on.  I hardly drink and I throw my coins around like they were manhole covers.  Food, that was it.  I never denied myself but I didn’t go over the wall either, I just didn’t think about it.  If I wanted steak, that’s what I had, If I wanted a sandwich that’s what it was.  Now that I consider virtually every morsel that passes my lips I’ve come to the realization that it was the last of my indulgences and I didn’t even realize its import.  It isn’t even so much a quality issue as its very unconsciousness that was valuable.  I still eat mostly what I want but I know that there are definite limits on the types and quantities I can eat.  If I’d known that it was the only luxury in my life I would’ve been more appreciative of it or at least less blind to its joys. 

I see those folks with fancy cars, cottages and boats and wonder how they do it, maybe they’re up to their eyeballs in hock like I was not so long ago but even then I wasn’t the one living the high life.  One day it would be nice to be able to indulge myself without thinking about the cost.  I think that’s what being rich is, that your choices are unconscious.  To travel without affordability as the main driver.  To look for a car based on what I’d like to drive as opposed to how it fits in my budget.  To just make choices without weighing the consequences.

It isn’t as though I’m living in a cardboard box under the overpass or anything; I’m sure a great number of people would love to be in my situation but I’m feeling a bit like I’ve lost my last freedom and I wasn’t even aware that I was deprived before.