Category: government

Re: Us

I have a good sense of who I am. I’m also curious how other people go about life. Sharing and learning with another individual allows for something new to happen. No not another fleshy thing! I’m referring to a concept: The idea of Us. It’s such a small word yet packed with meaning. When two or more people (or tribes, or communities, or nations even) find a commonality, then an Us is born.

A new relationship has to make room for the individual differences. Eden-like is that first blush of association when souls recognize they are better together than alone. Hopefully the Me and You part is already well established. A union will be a work in progress. We’ve all seen power couples who feed off each other’s energy. They appear united in spirit, I think because they value the We that they have become. Yet complications arise testing the concept of Us: Perhaps a baby enters the picture, or an elder needs to join the expanding collective. In-laws can mess with the dynamic. Long surviving marriages can be a testament to the importance of Us, but with a caveat; Both partners must contribute to the success. One, providing nothing to the bond, undermines the structure. One, doing all the heavy lifting, will sacrifice themself irrevocably.

My Garden of Us will sound as naive as advocating for world peace. Which really is just another way of saying the same thing. Regarding this word Us, I could be talking about the U.S. of America. Right now, those fifty states are very disunited. Their union is in jeopardy. Some historians might point out that this particular republic has been floundering since 1776. I have a hard time getting around the fact the U.S. waged civil war over who had the right to own slaves! If the current 340 million population were considered a family then I’d recommend counselling, a divorce might be in order, or at least a call to Children’s Aid. Every U.S. election in my memory has created more of a gulf between parties than the election before (oops, did I mention Gulf!). The world has a lot to lose if trumpism is allowed to flourish. Really now. What will become of us?

One of my favourite memories of family time was gathering around a campfire. We listened to individual stories while we poked at the flaming logs. Others might join us to add diversity to our collective. When the fire went out, things got cold so we retreated to our separate places, but I believe we kept the fire that symbolized us, inside us. Our gratitude for being together was a form of cement. Through science we have learned that atoms can form bonds, creating molecular clusters of astounding resilience, flexibility, and utility. Love, Grace, or Joy are not factual things like scientific principles, yet I believe they are among the elemental units that enable us to experience things together. Our DNA confirms that we are one humanity. Our systems of congress must respect that reality, or we may perish as a species.

Re: Loyalty

There are some values I not only don’t trust but actually shun. I’d go so far as to declare that loyalty is a moral principle that I reject. Loyalty does more harm than good, especially if it is a priority on your list of creeds to live by. The wrongness of this credo is evident to me in so many aspects of life. Yet in most people’s account book, Loyalty figures highly as worthy of respect. I put Love high on my value list so, please, let’s agree to disagree.

I’m binge-watching the television series Billions. In nearly every episode the notion of loyalty comes up. Shall I be faithful in my marriage, shall I honour my business partner, shall I be loyal to my clients whose money I am using to make myself more money? These are questions we see the cast pondering as they try to live fulfilling and exciting lives. To say their morals are non-existent is not being fair. The lesson the drama is teaching me is that being disloyal is the ultimate crime. Any consequence that comes from being disloyal is acceptable. Revenge is usually delivered on a cold plate, without a warm beverage. It’s a dog eat dog world when it comes to the power of money.

In my book of engaging in the social arrangement, allegiance might change from day to day. I figure that loyalty must not be blind, therefore it must be proven worthy by consistency, not history. It doesn’t matter to me that we ‘go way back’ if your current attitude or circumstance runs counter to my association. It’s not good for either of us to support a principle that undermines the common good. I can bend but not be tied in knots. Integrity, Health, Compassion, Courage, and Adaptability all trump Loyalty in my card game of values.

And speaking of Trump. This untrustworthy fellow is my Exhibit Number One in my assertion that loyalty is suspect in the court of human experience. Consider who the former president of the U.S.A expressed his fealty to! Not the American people, no siree! Despite being advised by some to avoid the likes of Putin, Assad, and Un, Trump courted these nasty individuals and fired those who opposed him for disloyalty. Trump is an example of what goes wrong in politics when loyalty is more important than honour.

If you define being loyal as having a commitment to another person then I have no disagreement. Once I have determined that a person is dependable I will have patience for most of their idiosyncrasies. However, I am not faithful to a fault because there is a limit in my loyalty bank and accounts are observed daily. To continue with the pet analogy; I guess I’m like a choosy cat rather than a devoted dog. A domesticated dog seems designed for unflinching devotion and we humans are all too often charmed by this misguided loyalty.

No wonder this four legged creature is referred to as Man’s Best Friend. He doesn’t know any better.

Re: Peace

The first thought that comes to my mind when I read the word Peace is Mahatma Gandhi, then John Lennon. Both of these distinguished fellows died by a fanatic’s hand. While Gandhi perished before I was born, his writings and perception have been a large part of my life. The notion of passive resistance is integrated into my philosophy and my behaviour. Likewise Lennon eschewed violence and in his own way contributed to the resurrection of peaceful civil disobedience as a powerful form of protest. His music lives on as a guide to what might be. He and others in the peace movement of that time invited us all to Imagine.

I used to feel lucky that I didn’t have to experience a global war. I was being naive really because there were serious conflicts between peoples of the world in each of the decades of my existence. I think I looked at those of my parent’s generation as having survived WWII as an accomplishment, yet something that had happened back then; a burden I didn’t have to shoulder. I’ve never had to go to war as a soldier. That is not true for millions of people. Now there is no denying, regardless of what bafflegab you use, that world peace is in jeopardy. The ill conceived tragedy that was Vietnam transformed into Afghanistan which has bled into the invasion of Ukraine. Now, as the daily death toll in the Israel/Palestine region mounts, who in the wide world of empathy can say they are not affected by the turmoil unleashed when rigid sides are taken in the name of Property, Religion or Nationalism. We can all say we are at war so long as we see peace as being unrealistic. The label Soldier or Citizen will not protect you.

My father used Calm as an effective form of protest whenever his world turned upside down. My mother viewed this manner as Detachment but I grew to learn that my dad was a very empathetic soul. He was a Peacenik before the term was coined. He taught me that outward emotion could sometimes cloud an issue or interfere with peacemaking. In a perfect world people like my dad would be called upon to suggest remedies to conflict at an idolized United Nations type forum. Instituted in 1945, the UN has yet to live up to its potential for peacekeeping although it is not without trying. As a young boy I thought I’d like to wear a blue beret and join others in a peaceful pursuit of global harmony (while passing out cold bottles of cola of course). The current UN Secretary General António Guterres is being sincere when he directs us to have a global perspective.

Peace activists are often ridiculed for not knowing the whole story, or looking at the world through rose coloured glasses. We are told to ‘pick a side’ or ‘be on the right side of history’. As long as we inhabit a Me/You world it is hard to talk about Us.

There now! I’ve said my peace.

Re: Tax

“This job is taxing me.” My mom used to say that I was taxing her patience, leading me to believe that the verb to tax was a negative thing. My wife and I have just been through a taxing experience; the slow death of her father. It’s not easy saying goodbye especially when you have a duty to care for another.

Most folk use the word Taxes in the context of paying them to their governments. There is a tax on most things in a modern society. When we buy stuff there is an expectation that some of what we pay will go to a municipal, regional or federal coffer. Many of us resent the fact that a government always has a hand in our pocket. Most of the time I can get my head around the need for group participation in financing needed services. Collectively we have to have a way to pay for the roads we drive on, the hospitals we go to in emergencies, the schools where we find enlightenment, the infrastructure elements that provide for the continuation of our culture. The importance of being taxed in this way must be viewed as a positive thing if we are to consider ourselves members of a caring society.

We all have a duty to care for our neighbour. Sometimes it is on a personal and intimate level. Sometimes it is anonymously through paying taxes. I find it difficult to place a coin in the hat of a soliciting homeless person who regularly frequents a corner in our downtown. I don’t resent his presence, I feel sad for his predicament. I gain some solace knowing that I pay taxes to a city government that has a progressive housing initiative. I don’t mind paying my fair share. The fact that our tax system is unfair bugs me though.

#Taxtherich is a well used hashtag on Twitter for good reason. Taxation policies in my country and other developed areas lack equity. Records, research and anecdotal stories abound of the one percent of us who find exemptions to paying taxes in proportion to their income. Employees of big companies often pay more taxes than the CEOs who run the corporations. Governments are reluctant to close the tax loopholes or institute a wealth tax for fear of investment going elsewhere. Consequently social programs are run through raffles and bake sales, while the super rich play with their money buying yachts and building spaceships. This imbalance taxes my patience for an equitable resolution.

The game of Monopoly depicts an unbalanced corporate world, but at least there is a luxury tax card. Several among the millionaire/billionaire class have boasted that they will give their fortunes away. I don’t believe that philanthropy is the answer to such a persistent societal need. Citizens have a responsibility to vote for fair tax laws. Once upon a time in the Americas the notion of Taxation/Representation was enough to cause a war. It’s one thing to be independent from tyranny, it’s another to find ways to support each other’s needs.

Re: Theft

Everyone has a tale of theft. Either someone has taken something from you or you have stolen from someone else. We rarely feel comfortable admitting the latter but my oh my, don’t we all like to target the other when we have felt robbed.

I’ve never been a train or bank burglar but as a kid I enjoyed the exploits of bandits like Butch Cassidy, the James Brothers, and Bonnie & Clyde. I was so emotionally kidnapped by tales of that Prince of Thieves, Robin Hood, that I visited Sherwood Forest in England when I was an adult. I could never excuse violent acts but I think there are times when theft can be forgiven, if not justified. Looting is a form of theft that can take place after a natural disaster. Studies in the wake of break-ins after Hurricane Katrina suggested that desperate people were seeking food, medicine or shelter. These were acts of survival not of anarchy. I believe that rioting can be a response to societal theft: When one person or group abdicates their part of the social contract (providing government oversight, a living wage, adequate health care, access to education), then that agreement is henceforth non-binding.

As a child I was tempted many times to lift something in the manner of the Artful Dodger. Once I spied a set of magnets in a clear cellophane pack on a display rack at a local five and dime store. I had learned that year in grade three that a magnet has a mysterious ability to attract. In an impulsive moment I pocketed the package. I couldn’t believe I made it street side without sirens or flashing lights. I rushed home and hid my shoplifted booty in the very back of one of my dresser drawers. There it remained for months, unopened. As an adult who should know better, I took a stapler from a teachers’ workroom at the school I worked at, ostensibly to organize some student marking while at home. I soon rationalized that it was mine. While not a moral dilemma equivalent to that fictional loaf of bread stolen by Jean Valjean in the novel Les Misérables, it’s a source of personal regret notwithstanding.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kP9fFngHgkQ

We could use some modern ‘rob from the rich/give to the poor’ stories. I keep struggling with the whole concept of ownership. Our life is so short, so why not share. An equitable tax system would help. Wages based on the common wealth of a nation would benefit everyone. The societal balance sheet is tilted in favour of the wealthy. I feel profit is a form of theft. Intellectual property is a scam. I wonder how Banksy feels about copyright laws. Passive income from tax sheltered corporate shares is also theft. We’re being robbed!

I was once mugged while delivering pizzas but I kept my dignity. Never let anyone steal your sense of who you are, your time, your identity, your future or your opportunities. Keep your true and precious self inviolate.

Re: Symbol

Symbols must change or perish. I worked in elementary school education, an institution remarkably slow to change. In policy and practise, the methodology of teaching has not changed significantly either. From slate to iPad our technology has advanced but the symbolism of students being given information by teachers is still with us.

Our country’s flag is a symbol. I can remember when the Red Ensign flew in the school yards of my youth. In the classroom it hung beside a picture of Queen Elizabeth, symbolic of her reign over us all. In 1965, when our flag became the familiar red maple leaf it symbolized our emergence as an independent nation; even though Governors General still symbolically stand in for Her Majesty in our government. My country’s flag currently is misrepresented to promote Freedom by truck driving convoy members bent on overthrowing parliament.

As I watched the visit of Prince William and his wife Kate to various Caribbean Islands, I grieved for our inability to create new symbols of service instead of perpetuating signs of servitude. A member of England’s royalty providing blessings is old news that holds us back from the challenges of working together. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDCQUPEiqmA

Statues of once revered politicians and conquerors are being torn down throughout the world in what might be described as a mass awakening to the lack of relevant symbolism. A common wealth of nations is what the United Nations was set up to accomplish without irrelevant figureheads.

Around the world Wealth has become symbolic of power. Those who have fortunes are allowed to judge those who don’t. Television programs Dragon’s Den and Shark Tank ask participants to come before a court of Oligarchs to plead their case. Billionaires like Elon Musk are permitted to manipulate entire industries with their fearsome purchasing might. Few societies, past or present, have been successful in limiting the power of the wealthy. I live in a province where First Nation potlatches were once banned by governing white colonists because they couldn’t understand the symbolism behind a ceremony where the rich gave away their possessions. 

For something to be symbolic it must have a strong link to Value. Corporations try to sell their products as symbols of something we care about. If the company logo can be imprinted on our collective psyche then it’s easy for us not to question how the plastic wrapped item got into our hands or homes. Watch closely the next time a commercial interrupts your baseball game. The ads are all about symbolism, not about the substance of what is being offered for sale. Gambling (particularly on-line sports betting) is being strongly promoted as a citizen’s right. The dollar sign is a dominant symbol in our capitalistic world.

I’ll join others who are sounding their cymbals in the world symphony of warning. An awareness of the role symbolism plays in our lives is critical. To my ears the music of money is not sustainable. The cries of those suffering are falling on deaf ears.

Re: Park

A park is a lovely place to go on a summer’s day. In Canada we are blessed with policies that require governments to recognize the need for natural spaces and recreational parks where citizens can go to revitalize their tired urban spirits. Some neighbourhood parks are so small they are called parkettes. When I was raising a family my young boys would pace by the door asking to go to a small patch of grass containing one small climbing apparatus, directly across the street. It’s freeing to go to a park.

Now, finding a parking spot is a whole different scenario. How one word can carry two very different connotations is an example of the confusion found by some in the intricacies of the English language. And getting a parking ticket is the height of insult to me. My sister used to just stuff her parking tickets into her glovebox, avoiding paying until they came with additional fines. When I walk by a parked car with a ticket under its windshield wiper I always feel sorry for the owner. I’ve had so few I remember the circumstances in detail, but I’ll keep it short: One was in Toronto where I had parked on a street that was signed ambiguously (I almost got towed that time), another time in Toronto was on a quiet residential street where I had parked a large moving van, once in Vancouver’s Stanley Park I parked unknowingly in front of the  ticketing agent sitting in his unmarked vehicle and lastly in Victoria B.C. I had parked my tiny moped in what turned out to be a construction zone (I found the ticket neatly rolled and taped around my handlebar). Have a nice day!

Even when I am sure I am parked legally I am anxious until I can get back to my vehicle and gaze at the clear windshield. On street parking comes with the additional risk of being broken into. A city parkade with its multiple levels is also a source of stress for me. Even though I like the security and the friendly gate keeper the tight spaces make me fear scratches. And finding the car on return is easier than when you park at those huge Box Store parking lots. My wife is a whiz at navigating the tight corners of the ramps in downtown parkades and doesn’t seem at all concerned that the traffic control bar might come crashing down on the car’s hood before she has made it safely back onto the street. I find it best to close my eyes when I’m her passenger.

Once I tried to fight a parking ticket at city hall. I had to make an appointment with the mayor’s assistant. I came early and parked outside, near a municipal park, feeling calmed by three Garry Oak and a memorial fountain. I presented my evidence and supporting documentation, but the parking authority bureaucrats politely disagreed with my assessment of the situation. I drove home listening to Joni Mitchell. It helped.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWwUJH70ubM

Re: MAGA

Make America Great Again. As acronyms go, this one will certainly go down in history. I imagine the famous Pearl Harbour speech by FDR, paraphrased in my head; “This policy slogan will live in infamy!” The directive MAGA, in reality, may also win a prize for best example of irony as the USA’s reputation as a great compassionate country is in tatters across the globe and its people have never been more divided in purpose.

The acronym will always be associated with that single term US President, Donald J. Trump. MAGA was borrowed from his predecessor Ronald Reagan whose phrase was less demanding and more invitational in tone, “Let’s MAGA!” Both of these jingoisms are representations of the idea that the ‘good old days’ were better than what we have now and ‘by golly by gum we’re gunna make them happen agin, dagnabbit!’ In fact, the thought went that if you were not in favour of getting back to the way we were, then you were un-American.

Trouble is the present day flows by like that River Zen, where you can’t possibly sample the same water once it has passed you by. As that theory continues; You aren’t even the same person! But try telling that to someone who thinks everything is turning out all wrong. At this point I’m wondering where all the visionaries have gone. Maybe I’m not facing in the right direction. I need a hat!

Campaign slogans aside, the wearing of baseball caps can be an identifier; of a favourite team, a philosophy of life or just a cheeky observance. I don’t have a head for hats but I would wear a cap with YOLO on it if I was invited to a Wear a Cap party. Since I don’t believe in an afterlife it’s important that I observe a ‘you only live once’ philosophy. I don’t have FOMO because I am one of the lucky ones while the majority of the world’s people are, in fact, missing out on a lot of basic things.

In our family, my sister and I were expected to act in a certain way every December 25th. It was a Make Christmas Great Again effort so that our mom could ‘get that feeling’. The stress was intense. Every detail had to be acted out. I have mixed emotions when I watch the film Christmas Vacation because of the prescribed nature of the holiday. It scarred us as kids. I believe it was a factor in my sister’s untimely death.

Personal memory plays a big part in our belief that life was better before: Before cars, before computers, before contraception, before electricity, before appliances, before feminism, before guns, before stand-up comedy, before plastic, before welfare cheques, before oil. We filter out what interferes with our conception of the facts. Sometimes the filter is so fine only a few things stay relevant and our point of reference gets permanently clogged.

Psychologists may do well to advise us to get a filter change every two years or 10,000 thoughts.

Re: Private

When I first started writing this blog my only followers were my friends and family. I remember my niece asking; “How can you write about such personal things?” I told her that I didn’t think I was giving away any secrets. “But what about your privacy!” She countered. Well, I told her that there are some things I consider private and I guess it matters only to me what I might consider to be a secret. I honour the people in my life by never telling their private story, only mine. Their secret is safe with me.

Most cultures have body boundaries. Privacy comes with a perimeter. When there is little room for privacy, we may be cautioned not to look, out of respect. Children are taught early what parts of their body require coverage in public. Modesty is often determined by these early codes of conduct. An uncovered window is a privation for some and a source of liberation for others. In this way privacy suggests a space that surrounds us but it can also be within us; as in the privacy of our own thoughts, where no one may enter.

Comedians make a joke of this sort of conundrum by saying things like, ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’ My mother warned me early in my life that what happened in our house was no one’s business but ours. She would often say things like, “This is a private matter between your father and me.” Keeping a secret involves information. Information that someone else might want. I never thought anything that happened in my family would be of interest to anyone, anyway.

Privacy is a big issue in the www. world. Our devices are becoming so linked that it is harder to police your own privacy. We are told that if we have nothing to hide then we have nothing to fear, yet our private stuff is entrusted to a Cloud.

There are many instances in life where the difference between private and secret gets fuzzy. For example, after a death you often hear family members requesting that they have privacy, out of respect for their grief. The death is likely known in the community, so that much isn’t a secret. Yet sometimes the circumstances surrounding the death may become a closely guarded secret by family members who feel that the cause of death itself is a private matter.

Many Canadians have kept the realities of the Indigenous Residential School System like a secret. Privately, many things were done in these state sanctioned institutions that have brought grave dishonour unto a people. Awful secrets cannot stay private for long. Secrets like these must be uncovered so that all may find healing. Original intention does not matter. Excuses don’t count. A healthy society is responsible for making amends. All citizens have a right to privacy and in that private space a determination must be found to eliminate secrets. For secrets are like lies, impossibly fragile and destructive even before they come to light.

Truth must come first.

Re: Age

The view that age is a state of mind sells anti-aging products and makes seniors feel better about themselves but perhaps we are just kidding ourselves. Some may look good for their age, while others must surrender to the inevitable sag and wrinkle. If you have the means for a little cosmetic enhancement then I guess age is relative. I enjoyed a second look at The Curious Case of Benjamin Button which is a film that oddly turns the aging process upside down. Benjamin returns to baby-like form as some of his senses get shuffled out of play. Similarly, as I age, my sense of caution, for example, is winning out over my sense of adventure. If I’m honest with myself, my body has been aging steadily since I passed sixty. My hands mark me; I see my father’s tanned oniony skin when I pause from this typing.

Parents love to report how their baby is a day old, a week old, then a month old. The age of the newly born is so precious it must be clearly defined in celebration of its existence. Children sometimes correct you if you guess their age wrong. A ‘Four’ is adjusted to ‘Four and a half!’ because at that tender age 6 months carries great significance to their rank in the world. On the other side of the age specific spectrum, a decade may seem a brief span of time to a septuagenarian.

While I was paying attention to other things, The Age of Aquarius, morphed into New Age practises, to the Age of Entitlement, which was part of the Consumer Age before being summarized as the Anthropocene. Ironically we may be facing a global environment catastrophe equivalent to the Dark Ages because our leaders maintain Stone Age regressive thinking. It’s the age old story of greed, immediate gratification and wishful thinking. We aren’t getting any wiser.

We lost many aged folk through Covid19 pandemic missteps. Strange that we can value vintage automobiles, aged cheddar or cellar casked wine more than we do our grandparents. Our standards around assisted living facilities (barely sanitized old age homes) must change to reflect a greater respect for what elders can provide in a wholesome, healthy society. Wisdom, like beauty and love is ageless in a way. When our terms of reference for Age become so narrow that we begin labelling people dismissively as Boomers, GenXers, Millennials, we are in danger of demonstrating ageism, as restrictive a label as all the other forms of prejudice.

Mature First Nations individuals whom I have known have often been referred to as Elders and I’d like to follow the path of humility, wisdom and patience that comes with that territory. In correspondence with the younger members of my family I have self identified and signed off on notes as West Coast Elder. This WCE moniker helps distinguish me geographically and it’s also how I’d like to be perceived as a senior member of the collective.

I’ll take that as a respectful salute to my agedness.