Category: New

One of the advantages of the software used for this blog is the ease with which corrections can be made in individual postings. The occasional typo does occur and it is easy to just open the blog and fix it. It is less convenient when facts are under question and the posting needs major surgery. All the posts from #1 are still here and available for reading. I have therefore decided to, on occasion, post a series of corrections.

Re: Post #49 – Rumours of the death of the Liberal party are premature… My rumour of the saving of the party might also be premature. Bob Hepburn of the Toronto Star wrote last Thursday about the party’s Thinkers Conference scheduled for March 2010. I wrote in blog #49 that the conference would be in January. I decided to find out what was happening. I e-mailed Alf Apps, president of the Liberal Party of Canada. I mentioned in my e-mail about this that Harper might just eat the Liberal party’s lunch if we delay the conference until March. All Harper has to do is believe the pollsters and call an election.

Alf confirmed that the conference has been rescheduled for March. I guess the thinkers were busy in January. Alf also pooh-poohed my concerns about an election call. He might just have Mr. Harper’s assurance that he will not call an election until the fall. I would hardly want to bet much on that.

Re: Post #47 – Parsing the body politic in Babel… A number of people had heard the old joke before about the rectum being the most powerful part of the body. I was having fun in the retelling.

Re: Post #45 – How city planners teach Babel drivers… The planners must be paying attention. They have painted all new traffic lanes and even put up overhead lane signs for when the road is snow-covered at the Essa – Lakeshore – Bradford – Tiffin intersection. It appears to have reduced the number of emergency vehicles servicing patrons in the intersection. Well done.

Re: Post #44 – Minutes of Meeting 23: Republican League of Canada, Babel Chapter… I have had a number of comments that my humour was weak in the ending of the minutes as nobody could imagine why the league would end its meeting with the singing of God Save the Queen. The reason is, as I understand it, was that there was an unholy row about it originally but nobody knew the words to O Canada, and still don’t. Not that it matters but I should mention that the snooty royals went back home to Ole Blighty without visiting Babel. They were not missed.

Re: Post #43 – Michael Ignatieff and the Liberals need a Hail Mary play… The argument over this blog is whether the Liberals need a few Hail Mary’s, the full Stations of the Cross or Extreme Unction. I guess it depends on your religious leanings.

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Complaints, comments, criticisms and compliments can be sent to [email protected]

American Thanksgiving always reminds me of my favourite episode of WKRP in Cincinnati that first aired in November, 1978. It is not everyone’s favourite. People who already knew about the non-flying habits of turkeys were profoundly shocked by the premise of the episode. It was the one where the station manager (played so well by the late Gordon Jump) decided to drop live turkeys from a helicopter. The ‘on-air’ reports to the station by reporter Les Nessman (played by Richard Sanders) were a comedy classic.

You’ve got to admit that American television has certainly given us a lot of turkeys over the years. Nothing like Ivan Fecan, president and CEO  of CTVglobmedia, did at the recent television hearings in Gatineau, Quebec. Mr. Fecan is that nice looking white haired guy who regularly shows up in a well-fitted tuxedo at gatherings of the Toronto aristocracy that are worthy of coverage by CTV news. It is occasionally mentioned by the newscasters who he is but those who count, already know.

Ivan was in Gatineau to have a chat with his friend Konrad von Finckenstein, chair of the Canadian Radio-Television Telecommunications Commission (CRTC). Ivan’s friend Konrad is the guy who regulates television, radio, telephone, cable and satellite companies. Ivan was there to tell the CRTC commissioners that they should tell the cable companies to pay something like 75 cents per month per subscriber for carrying his local signals. That might sound reasonable until Toronto-area viewers figure out that he is adding at least $8.25 per month to their cable or satellite bill. You might be willing to pay 75 cents each month for Desperate Housewives on CTV but you would also have to pay 75 cents each for channels you might never watch. That is when the turkey droppings get more serious.

Ivan is the guy responsible for all those annoying commercials on Canadian television about the TV Tax or cows stealing milk(?). Those advertisements drew more than 14 thousand letters and e-mails to the CRTV either supporting or complaining about the TV Tax. One of the complaints was my blog of October 14: #41 – Making sense of the broadcaster vs. cable/satellite wars.

It is quite unlikely that Ivan is worried about what the public might say. His writers are probably quite busy writing short (seven-minutes is all you get) speeches for all the pro-tax friends who will be appearing. The reason Ivan does not look worried is because I think he has the Ace up his sleeve. The Ace, in this case, is his friend von Finckenstein’s boss: the Prime Minister. There is no proof of this but, it seems very logical that Ivan is the only guy with the chutzpah to call his buddy Stephen Harper and tell him how serious he is about getting money out of the cable and satellite companies. Since Stephen Harper got where he is with a little help from Ivan, Ivan figures Stephen owes him this one.

Since the Prime Minister’s Office has told Konrad von Finckenstein that the Cabinet will be making this decision for him and his commissioners, Ivan has little to worry about. All those of us who are opposed can do is go to the public meeting and stir up whatever trouble we can with whatever news media can be stirred. I expect to be appearing for my seven minutes of infamy late on Wednesday morning, December 9. If you want to watch and have broadband Internet service, I suggest you watch on the CRTC video feed through www.cpac.ca It should be a fun event.

– 30 –

Complaints, comments, criticisms and compliments can be sent to [email protected]

Pundits are reporting the death of the Liberal Party in Canada. That might just be wishful thinking by some. It is definitely premature. The Liberal Party is hardly dead. It even thrives in the congestive conservatism here in Babel. Not since the Conservatives were reduced to just two seats in Parliament in 1993 have the talking heads and the scribblers of the news media been so convinced of an imminent political funeral. Yet the evidence is that the party is on the mend. And it is growing stronger every day.

All the Liberal Party lacks for complete recovery at this stage is a renewal of its democracy. Democracy is the breath of life in a political party. Democracy is what assures continued renewal, fresh thinking, new blood, new ideas, challenge and vibrancy in a political organization. It is also what assures a political party a future.

Michael Ignatieff is a Trudeau Liberal and was too young to be part of the battles over democracy in the party that kept the party in turmoil in the early 1960s. These were the times under Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson that issued in the Trudeau era. We were fighting for the very life of the party. It was the right wing of the party versus the left wing. When Pierre Trudeau joined the fight as a new Liberal Member of Parliament in 1966, he joined those of us on the left.

While he always respected the democratic principles that made the Liberal Party so effective, Trudeau became part of the problems that downgraded its democracy when he was Prime Minister. He often lost patience with the system in his drive to make things happen and he pulled more and more of the power of government into the Prime Minister’s Office. He gave Canadians their own Constitution and the democratizing Charter of Rights and Freedoms by finally running roughshod over his critics. He had determined that the less democratic route was the only way to make the charter happen.

After Trudeau, the party then had a revival of its right wing under the short term leadership of John Turner in the 1980s. This revival on the right was accompanied by opportunists using squadrons of ethnic workers to take control of local riding structures in and around the cities. Ethnic control of the ridings encouraged an oligarchical structure in the party. This loss of local democracy also blocked the left wing from any effective response. It was a fractured Liberal Party in the early 1990s with Jean Chrétien as the new leader. The only confidence he had was that Brian Mulroney’s days as Prime Minister were numbered. He could have kept the left wing on side if it had not been his support for the Charlottetown Accord. It cost him much of the left wing but they were at the time being replaced by the Eastern-Canadian right-wingers who were deserting Brian Mulroney’s Conservatives.

The one good thing from Chrétien was that he recognized the concern about how the Prime Minister’s office had concentrated far too much of the power under Mulroney. In an attempt to pull the party back together, Chrétien called for the party to have a thinkers conference at Aylmer and from that conference came the “Red Book” that carried the party through a sweep of the Conservatives in 1993. The Red Book made no bones about the “arrogant style of political leadership” that had permeated the Mulroney government.

But too much of the Chrétien era was window dressing. There was never a real effort to distribute the power of the Prime Minister’s Office and Finance Minister Paul Martin drove the Liberal government hard to the right. Outdoing his Conservative and Reform critics, Martin gutted social programs such as Unemployment Insurance and even changed the name to hide its purpose. Many of his other stringent financial measures left the former left wing of the Liberal party without a home. As Prime Minister after Chrétien, voters were faced with the choice between Paul Martin’s right of centre Liberal Party and right-winger Harper’s Conservatives. The voters went for the real thing. Luckily they held Harper back from a majority but they gave the guy a chance.

The one thing you can be assured is that Harper is no democrat. He wields a heavy hand in his autocratic rule of the party he crafted from the former Progressive Conservative Party, the dead Reform Party and its moribund Canadian Alliance successor. He was the Cassius to Preston Manning’s Julius Ceasar and finally savaged his mentor to aspire to his leadership of the right wing of Canadian politics. The bodies lie by the paths he took to become Prime Minister and there are many times when he shows his vicious side in trying to destroy potential as well as real enemies in Parliament.

But the Liberal Party has the chance to survive and thrive. Key to this will be the thinkers conference that Michael Ignatieff has called for January 14 to 16, 2010 in Montreal. It is Michael Ignatieff’s chance to bring his party into the Twenty-First Century as a vibrant, socially-oriented party.

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Complaints, comments, criticisms and compliments can be sent to [email protected]

Don’t expect me to Twitter

Because it doesn’t matter.

My thoughts of every day,

Are not that long, anyway.

___

My gay friends are atwitter

The right-wing are so bitter

George is going to city hall

He will paint it pink next fall.

___

Jack reported in his twitter

That guy Harper’s a quitter

Hasn’t said anything polite

Since Ignatieff lost his fight.

___

Heard from a Babel twitter

Babel MP’s a counterfeiter

Writes a really big cheque

And he don’t give a heck.

___

Sure wish I invented Twitter

And wouldn’t be a quitter,

I would live as a zillionaire,

Now wouldn’t that be fair?

___

I never really liked a Twitter

No point to it to being bitter

Average reader’s attention,

Ain’t really worth a mention.

___

Can’t earn money on Twitter

I’d do better as a steamfitter

But I’m taking up all this time,

With apologies for the lack of perfect metre, other complaints can be directed to [email protected]

It is almost 200 years ago and Westminster is seething in the aftermath of the Mackenzie Rebellion in Upper Canada. Lieutenant-Governor Sir Francis Bond Head has been recalled from the colony in disgrace. Lord Durham has been shipped off to the wilderness to provide direction for those Frenchmen in Lower Canada but nobody will brook delay in resolving the problems in Upper Canada. They can hang a few of the rebels if they wish but, after all, these people are British Subjects, loyal to Her Majesty. The Family Compact days are done.

It is in light of these serious events that there is a gathering of the heads of the families bequeathed land by the Mother Country around Kempenfelt Bay (named by Lord Simcoe for the Royal Navy Rear Admiral of that name who was famous for steadfastly going down with his ship—when it sank off Spithead whilst undergoing repairs). As is their custom, the landed gentry, heads of the five families, meet at a convenient tavern, order tankards of the best ale, light up their clay pipes and discuss the serious considerations of the future governance of Babel.

Squire Harrison always chairs these meetings, as he is the smartest. He explains to the others that the body politic is passing from them to the franchised voters. “Luckily, these are only men,” he explains. “But we all know that Babel men will always vote the way their wives tell them.

“That means we must carefully choose who will lead the Babel rabble. We should each choose the part of the body politic that we best represent and explain why that part should lead. I, to start off, represent the brain. It is the natural leader and nothing happens unless the brain tells others what to do,” he says.

“I am afraid I must disagree,” exclaims Squire Byrd, as he puffs on his pipe. “I choose the heart. Voters always make their decisions from the heart and that makes me the better leader.”

“No, no, gentlemen,” says roly-poly Squire Harper, “It is the stomach that is the natural ruler. It is the stomach that nourishes the rest of the body and gives it the strength to carry out its tasks. Voters always vote from their stomachs.”

“Yer all full of it,” chimes in Squire Aspergun, as he waves his tankard for the publican to refill. “I choose the mouth because someone has to tell them voters what to do. It’s the mouth that leads.”

“No gentlemen,” quietly says Squire Brown, with a knowing smirk. “The only vital part of the body politic you have left for me is the rectum. What you all seem to forget is that if the rectum shuts down, the brain will be far too woozy to lead anywhere. The heart will be racing and in danger of going into arrest. The stomach will have no outlet for digested food and will be extremely busy sending it back to the mouth where it will have to be projected with disgusting results, leaving the mouth unable to speak. The only part of the body politic still able to function and remain in control is the rectum. You have no choice but to let me run things in Babel.”

And that is why, dear reader, since the City of Babel was founded those many years ago, it has been run by assholes.

– 30 –

Send your comments to [email protected]

The jury has been in for a while. Time has not changed the verdict. So you might as well know: people prefer Babel. It is what they read. Google blog statistics are quite thorough. They say that people read the stories about Babel. Politics comes second. I hate to admit that American politics gets better readership but that is only because there is more of them guys than us guys.

The comments have not been huge in numbers but they sure make the point. I have been flattered when referred to as the poor man’s Stephen Leacock or a poorer Canadian cousin to Garrison Keillor. I think Babel is a more serious place than Mariposa or Lake Wobegone but I am honoured by the comparison. Quite honestly, it never occurred to me that people would compare Babel to those mythical places. Babel is a city that has never been designed or planned. It is an unfortunate accident of middle Ontario. (Something like a troubling tummy ache where you know you just need to relieve the gas.) I find Babel interesting because it still has much to learn about itself.

Babel is funny whether you live here or not. It is people. The women of Babel are not as strong as the women of Lake Wobegon and the men are definitely not as handsome. Hell, the men in Babel are hardly fit to be taken out in public and rarely are. And there is definitely no comparison between Babel and the Mariposa Stephen Leacock immortalized a hundred years ago. Mariposa was a Sunshine Town from a gentler era. At the time, it was cultured and refined. People were kindly, if not understanding. Mariposa was definitely a different world. The differences, I expect, are quite similar to the differences between Barrie of today and summer-time Orillia of 1912.

Despite the preponderance of Babel enthusiasts, readers are not going to get me to stop writing about politics. That is a life-long love of mine. One reader left me flattered but cold when I asked him specifically what he thought of my piece for the Canadian Radio-Television Telecommunications Commission. It took him a while to come back with an answer. (This is a person with some of the technical background needed to appreciate the complexity of the questions I was addressing.) “Well,” he said, “It is certainly erudite.” That is definitely the last time I ask for his opinion.

Someone I am doing some writing for called the other day after he had received a draft and told me that I was a wonderful writer. What can you say to a compliment such as that? I explained very patiently that, as kind as his comment might be, I did not send the copy to him for him just to admire. I needed his analysis of the direction in which it was headed and whether we agreed that it is on the right track.

I guess what bothers me about this direction by readers is that I have a just completed a 6000-word blog entry on the condominium where I live in Babel. It does not belong here. It is an orphan story and it will never appear in blog, web site or in print. It belongs in a court. Maybe it also belongs at Queen’s Park when they decide to rewrite the oppressive Condominium Act.

The good news is that, in the year ahead, there will be wonderful opportunities to write about the politics of Babel. I expect there will be a federal election and the voters of Babel will want to share their passion for upsetting the electoral applecart. The municipal election will be its own comedy of errors and even my readers in other countries will appreciate the silliness as our municipal Wise Men of Gotham try to figure out how to describe a voter when each is trying to parse a different anatomical component of the body politic.

So now you know what to expect. People seem to like the frequency of a couple entries a week. It certainly is no strain on me. I guess I would not do it, if it was.

– 30 –

Send your complaints to [email protected]

In training pets about doing their business outside, there is a technique known as newspaper training. It may not be the one you are thinking of. The method in mind is the one where you roll up the entire metro edition of the newspaper and swat the dog with it when the poor creature has made an error. I, of course, am apalled by such treatment of man’s best friend but it came to mind watching how Babel’s city planners teach Babel drivers to use the correct roads.

Admittedly, Babel drivers, as a group, are not the world’s best drivers. While, hopefully, there are some quite competent drivers among their numbers, there is not much hope for most. They desperately need remedial training.

Babel’s city planners teach with a version of rote learning. As opposed to the endless debates of the Socratic method, rote learning does not care if you understand why you should do something but forces you into a pattern acceptable to those creating the lesson. The secret to the success of the method is that you are forced into the pattern one step at a time and, in the end, you are trained.

In this manner, Babel drivers are learning that using the Lakeshore to go downtown gets you the rolled up newspaper treatment. Using Bradford to drive downtown is the city planners’ plan. Bradford, is a mainly unused, four-lane road, between used car dealer lots that leads the driver from the confusion of the Bradford – Essa – Lakeshore – Tiffin intersection to a traffic jam at Dunlop or direct to Hooters across Simcoe Street.

This small commentary on city planners (or lack thereof in Babel) is not intended to bore non-Babelite readers but to provide a cautionary forewarning of the dangers of giving city planners any leeway. Use rolled up newspapers on them if necessary!

Babel’s city planners are now in the process of gradually redirecting Lakeshore traffic. This is a slow and painstaking process. One road is opened at a time. Plan one is in effect in that downtown-bound drivers now turn left from the Lakeshore to go to Bradford. Alternatively, they can, very slowly, make a hard right to go around a curve back onto Lakeshore. The opening of this new and modern highway system on the bay has been the cause of the biggest traffic jams in Babel’s history. They will get worse as the locals find out where the different roads will take them.

The only other comment on this matter is that we should advise all tourists to stay away from the Bradford – Essa – Lakeshore – Tiffin intersection. It may not be working the way the Babel city planners hoped. Unless, of course, they planned the intersection to demonstrate the equipment carried on the city’s emergency vehicles. The paramedics, firemen and police seem to spend an inordinate amount of time there blocking traffic.

– 30 –

Enquiries about safe driving in Babel can be directed to [email protected]

Harry Sterns got the meeting underway at 7:14 pm—ignoring his wife who was telling Ethel Brown her recipe to make peach cobbler. (I’ve tried her peach cobbler and it’s darn good. The recipe is appended to the minutes.)

Harry, once more, reminded the secretary that she was not to put her own opinions in the minutes. Nobody made any objections to the minutes of the last meeting, so we have no idea if anyone, other than Harry, has a problem with the secretary’s opinions. Motion by Ralph Goode, second by Myrna Sterns to accept the minutes, motion carried.

The treasurer reported that he gave all the money ($82.15) to Harry to go to Buffalo (and not stop at the casino in Niagara Falls) when former vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is speaking there and see if she will be our guest speaker to boost attendance at our next annual meeting. (This led to the usual arguments about whether we are supposed to be Irish republicans or American republicans—still unresolved.)

Harry told us the big news: it seems the English guy with the big ears is bringing that skag of a wife of his for an official visit to Babel. No wonder we have such a good crowd tonight. (Except for Mildred Lapierre who has gone into labour with her seventh but her husband Maurice is here and he insists that he have two votes.) And you should have heard the protests when Harry said this was our chance to protest and get our league better known.

Tom Flanagan objected to Harry’s idea of a protest. He said last time we protested was when that pretty lady from Haiti told people in Paris she was Canada’s head of state. Harry insisted that the secretary send a strong letter to Ottawa pointing out that the Governor General had not been elected to anything and only served because the Prime Minister had appointed her as the Queen’s representative in Canada.

That Rideau Hall sure has nice stationary and we are thinking of framing the letter from some servant of hers saying our letter would be brought to the Governor General’s attention, if she ever gets back from her world tour. We could put up the letter next to the one we got when we asked her what raw seal liver tastes like. (We are still waiting for her to read that one. Betcha she spend a lot of time with her head in the bowl from that!)

But the meeting is getting a bit heated. Sam Brooke wants to barricade the railroad tracks south of Babel to keep big ears and his funny looking wife out of town. Harry said you cannot do that as it would just annoy all the commuters who want to get home in time for supper. He says the commuters are very good for his business as they are all likely victims of early heart attacks. (And Harry’s is the best funeral parlour in Babel.)

Maurice then gave what for to Harry about dumb ideas such as wandering around town with signs saying something about the (French expletives deleted) monarchy when if you just forget to tell people, nobody will know Chuck and Camilla are in town.

That struck a note with the women members and there were a number of increasingly shrill demands for a vote to ignore the Prince of Wales and his dowdy wife when they come to Babel.

Harry gave us all a very strong lecture about that. His premise seemed to be that if we ignored them, we would be no better than the 83.4 per cent of Canadians who already ignore the monarchy. (About half of those pro-monarchy people are women with confused hormones who want to mother Prince Harry or William or both.) Our Harry believes that we have a vital role in countering the doddering idiots in the Monarchist League without meeting them in pitched battle. That is good as there are few members of the Monarchist League younger than 80. We are supposed to make nice with them while pointing out the error of their ways.

The meeting ended with extra helpings of Myrna’s peach cobbler, thanks to Harry for the use of his best viewing room and a rousing rendition of God Save the Queen.

– 30 –

Enquiries about joining the Babel Chapter of the Republican League of Canada can be directed to [email protected]

It is the time of the year for football and football analogies and when one looks at the needs of Canada’s Liberals, a Hail Mary play is the best answer. A Hail Mary play is one where the quarterback throws the football as hard and as far as he can and says a prayer in hopes that the intended receiver catches it to win the game. It is a desperation play. It is also known as the long bomb.

After a quiet summer of barbeques and meetings with Liberals across the country, Michael Ignatieff and his fellow Liberal Members of Parliament were poised to do the Harper Conservative team serious damage when the House of Commons met in September. They were on a high and were ready for the scrimmage. In that game opening, they were teetering on the line of scrimmage, when the NDP’s Jack Layton went off side and the referees blew the whistle on the campaign. That turned the play against the Liberals. Only Jack Layton was chuckling. By siding with the Harper team, Layton had once again proved that he believes Liberals are more of a threat to him and his party than the Conservatives.

Whether Layton is right or wrong will only be known when Ignatieff starts calling the plays for his team in the coming election. The problem seems to be that Stephen Harper and the news media are all really curious as to what Michael’s policies might be—if he has any. Declaring his support for national day care at this early stage is just Michael telling his team that he recognizes a long-time Liberal platform plank. The plank might be weathered and silvery at this stage but it is far better than Harper’s miserly handouts to parents, telling them to solve their own day care problems.

Luckily, Michael’s Liberals are having a policy super bowl in Montreal in January. It will be like the Kingston Conference of Lester Pearson and the Aylmer Conference of Jean Chrétien but more fun. At least, we hope so. Anyone who has spent time in Montreal in January knows it is usually no fun. Americans are smart in that they hold their super bowls in the south or in covered stadia.

I expect I will want to go, if only in hopes of keeping the party in tune with its electorate. There is a real danger that the right-wing MPs in the party will pull Michael into the trap of exorcising Harper’s minions for the budget deficits they are creating. We finally get those Conservative ideologues into admitting there is an economic problem and laying out some money to help solve it and now they want to castigate the Conservatives for running a deficit. Somebody has to tell them, we cannot have it both ways.

Liberals need to remember that it was Paul Martin as Finance Minister under Jean Chrétien who fumbled the ball on Employment Insurance in the first place. Getting the unemployed back a few lost downs from Stephen Harper took the NDP’s Jack Layton and the threat of an election. If Harper believes today’s polls, he might just tell good ole Jack to take his game ball back to the stands and support the Liberals, ending up with an election, the Conservatives hope to win.

While Harper has done some stupid things since taking office, his advisors would tell him not to trust those polls that show the Liberals unlikely to last four quarters. They are still in fighting form. They have candidates on the line of scrimmage and ready to go in about 90 per cent of the ridings across Canada. After the January policy super bowl and a new Red (Play) Book ready to go in March, Michael will be just laying in wait for Finance Minister Flaherty’s budget.

If Jim Flaherty has a brain in his head, which he has, he is not just an ideologue like his leader, he will phone Gilles Duceppe, the erstwhile boss of the Bloc and see what is Gilles’ current wish list is for Quebec. That way the Conservatives can jilt Jack and his NDP and win the Bloc’s blocking without necessarily appearing to be in bed with them. They would be hoping that by taking the momentum away from Michael that his quarterbacking of the Liberals would be brought into question and cause dissension.

Michael can make sure that this will not happen by staying his course on the left side of the field. That is where all his fans are cheering him on. It is where he uses Jack Layton as the Liberal water boy, throws a few blocks at the Bloc and mops the field with Harper’s sycophants. Harper will draw a lot of penalty flags from the referees with his dirty tricks and in the final quarter Michael will need his team’s Hail Mary play. It takes guts. It takes planning. There are naysayers who will talk of the risks. It is also done when there is nothing to lose.

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Football tips available from [email protected]

It’s a busy time in Babel. Fewer tourists mean that it is mainly locals who get lost on Babel’s confusing streets. Those fishermen are back out on the bay. You hardly care about those fishing from shore. They might need dinner. The ones out on the bay are the ones you watch, wondering if they are going to drown today. They even stand up in their boats to fish knowing that the minnows they catch are unlikely to pull them overboard.

Our flocks of Canada Geese have already formed their squadrons for their flight south to annoy the Americans in their winter homes. Nobody has told these perennial snowbirds that there is going to be a bounty on their beaks if they keep defecating in the wrong places down there. Southerners understand where poop belongs.

Here in Babel, we need to get our poop together. Since early spring the wife and I have been giving our city councillor what for because of all the crap in our front yard. Let me explain: we have the poop works being extended south of our habitat for the past two years and that is coming along well. The general contractors’ people are nice guys and they try to maintain friendly relations with the neighbourhood.

Not so the people hired by the city to put in the main sewer line, fix the creek routes and move the roads. These bozos are slobs. Complaining has done us little good. They must think they are doctors who can just bury all their mistakes. Throw around pop cans and bottles, discard your lunch wrappings, detritus from work such as pieces of wood or pipe, whatever, they have a solution: they bury it.

The other day, doing their final clean up in front of our place, they actually had the nerve to run a huge Caterpillar excavator through their laydown area and bury everything that they did not want to take home. It was a shallow grave and we will be having that garbage and methane leaching their way to the surface for years to come. Mind you, none of the workers gave a damn about all the crap they had just thrown into the bushes. Probably from ground level, you cannot see it too well. Just look from the 15^th floor.

And yet we even saw the blue heron the other day. It looked like he just stopped for a bit of rest and a snack in our pond. The muskrats must already be in hibernation because they do not believe in flying south for the winter. Either that, or the hawks got them.

Babel turned off the Centennial fountain the other day. That means summer is really over. Christmas is coming. The city has finally replaced our eight-metre Christmas tree that used to sit on the triangle at the corner of Tiffin/Bradford/Essa/Lakeshore. Mind you, they have replaced the one beautiful old fir tree with three three-metre shrubs. We are waiting to see if the city decorates all three or arbitrarily picks the tallest?

Babel’s councillors will be out ingratiating themselves with their voting public this winter as they launch a year-long fight for council positions. The contest that promises to be most interesting will be to see who can oust the guy currently occupying the mayor’s chair. There is even talk of bringing back Babel’s biggest loser. The characters in the diorama of city hall remind me of a chapter from The Wind in the Willows. (My wife forbids me to tell you which one is the Squire from Toad Hall.) We will have to see if Ontario Lottery and Gaming wants to take book on the outcome in Babel. It would be illegal for this space to do it. I am going to vote for the tallest candidate.

Do you have a better way to choose?

-30-

Comments may be sent to [email protected]