Foremost on my Mind: A Boy Called Norman

 

He was born approximately halfway between the end of World War II and the beginning of the Vietnam War, around the time Korean War was starting. He came sometime after the Big Band sound had, well, toned down, and a clear decade before Paul, Ringo, John, and George (that would be the Beatles, Maurice) showed up on the Ed Sullivan Show.

I'm not sure how disappointed his parents were at having a fourth son, but they were half anticipating a girl. Had he been a "she," her name was to be Patricia. As it was, they named he and his brothers with the conventional two names, only to call each boy by his second name. Had he gone with his first name, he would have been called Norman.

The past 27 years have gone by in a flash for Norman. No, the math is good, people: He's 57 tomorrow, but the last half of his life has flown by like a bird with its tail feathers on fire, The first thirty years seemed to drag; the last nearly-thirty have whizzed by (and getting 'whizzier' by the decade) so fast, he has trouble remembering whether such-and-such an event was last month or last year. Either way, it reflects the stage of life he's at.

When Norman was in public school, back in the '60s and '70s, he was an average student, a poor athlete, but a popular classmate. Back then, all his classmates came from two-parent homes, the Lord's Prayer was recited every morning, and the strap was an effective deterrent to mouthing off the teacher. There was no gum, no iPod, and most definitely no hats in class.

As Norman got older, life changed somewhat: The rural municipality that he was raised in started to grow up, and all its citizens got culture shock. It went from a charming farming community to a bustling metropolis almost overnight. One may even say that Richmond—made up of many islands, including the main one, Lulu Island—is now Hong Kong's largest suburb. More precisely, of the 100,000 people that call Richmond home, 75,000 are ethnic Chinese.

Another change was his own personal growth--the character type, if you will. Because he had to work hard even to get average grades, when he ended up at the University of British Columbia (UBC), the transition was quite easy. You see, unlike his naturally smart classmates, he continued to work hard, and—surprise, surprise—did okay on the Point Grey campus. Not great, but certainly acceptable; in fact, better than when he was in high school.

He ended up training for a teacher, even though his first love was writing. But being the obedient son that he was, when his dad suggested a teaching career out of UBC, rather than a writing career out of Western Washington State College, he did what dad said. Funny how that probably wouldn't go over as well these days.

Two things demand comment here for Norman: One, he doesn't remember a thing he learned in the four years of teacher training; and two, the last thing he wanted to do when he got his glorious receipt, er, degree, was to teach school. That desire came two decades later, as did all the necessary life skills to run an effective classroom. Those life skills were honed at the diningroom table, in the other "school of life," also known as raising a family.

So Norman plods on. Mountains and valleys, joys and sorrows, good days and bad, pink slips and red flames. Alberta's been good to he and his family. Funny though, there isn't one thing that he had plans for back in 1977 (the year he graduated from university) that he is doing today. And yet through it all, he has been preserved by a divine force beyond and outside of himself, namely, a good Heavenly Father who has guided him all the way.

So, here's hoping that the next thirty years won't be quite as fast as the last thirty. Happy birthday to me, Norman Craig Funston.

Foremost on my Mind: Consumer Confidence

 

Perhaps the greatest contributor to the global economic crisis these days is consumer confidence. Though I am a lowly teacher-hobby farmer-writer (and not an economist), I believe this would be a safe assumption to make. The economic cycle flows something like this:

Stores that are full of goods are empty of customers. Said stores respond finally by laying off staff and cutting back hours. Next, they order less and less from their suppliers,so the supplier (aka wholesaler) then responds by not ordering from the manufacturer. The manufacturer (aka plant) starts laying off its workers, who then have no money to shop in the full stores—because they have empty wallets Well, they weren't shopping there much anyways, so now they shop less.

We don't have too many stores, people, or too many manufacturing plants; we have too few consumers. (Maurice: consumers means customers, buyers, and spenders.)

I have dealt with two of the reasons in this column before: One, the evil of abortion has wiped out millions of buyers (as well well as millions of workers); and two, the careless approach to immigration has channelled people into large cities, rather than spread them out evenly throughout the country. On that last point, it is like water: uncontrolled, it is a devastating flood; controlled, is is hydro-electric power.

There is a third possibility as to why there aren't enough shoppers, and that would be the employees themselves. Call it what you like: customer relations, personal service, or simply, staffing. And when I say staffing, I am thinking more of the quality of staffing, not the quantity.

Speaking personally, I am incredibly loyal to a store, restaurant, hotel, or whatever when I get great service. If I don't, I'll move on to where I'll get it. This is a very competitive market, so every store owner must be on his or her toes relative to customer relations.

On the other hand, if I walk into a store and feel for a moment that I am an intrusion, and not a money-generating, job-creating, goods-buying consumer, then I'm gone. Exit left, to the next clothing store. I'll buy my suspenders at some place that wants my money.

I may blame the employers for staff that is incompetent, lazy, and thick, but I won't. It's also easy to blame schools and parents equally for this woeful state we find our workers in, and I wouldn't be too far wrong. If I were a percentage man, I would suggest parents should get a chunk of the blame, schools get the rest, say, 60-40.

On the school front, in particular, be it high school or university, there is a sad myth out there that a piece of paper says you're qualified for a certain career. Graduation is a very misleading rite of passage. Unfortunately, that paper doesn't deal with manners, spirit, ethics, or morals. And as far as the home goes, one wonders where the old-fashioned approach to training and mentoring went.

So let me re-state the consumer problem: We've killed their potential (and globally, I have have no idea how many millions upon millions that would be), and we've stunted their productivity (by penning them in the larger centres). And now I suggest we've insulted their sense of purpose.

I have no idea how many employers I have talked to over the years who have made it clear that they would rather hire a new employee who has character; once hired, they would give them the skills to carry out the job. And when I speak of character, here is a sampling of said qualities: thoroughness, punctuality, diligence, teachableness, and initiative.

They don't teach that at high school or university. That starts in the homes. And as our homes are weakened through divorce, materialism, and undiscipline, so too will the economic machinations of our society be weakened.

Now if I can just find a nice clerk in a store that can help find those suspenders.

Foremost on my Mind: Controlled Immigration

 

It was a perfect metaphor for this great country of ours: Canada Day at Waterton Lakes National Park (please note correct name, thank you), and there was (seemingly) every nationality represented. Let's see: There were Syrians, Chinese, Irish, Americans, Gauls, and a smattering of some of us third-generation Canadians (would that make us Generation III?).

I think there were a few Quebecers, too, but I'm not sure how to classify them.

The only un-Canadian thing about the day was the park entrance fee: It was on the house—another term for "free." Usually it's here a tax, there a tax, everywhere a tax, tax, tax, so it sort of throws off my Canadian metaphor.

I'm all for immigration and the more the merrier. I understand from one of my favourite sources that Canada is the fourth-least densely populated country in the world. (Maurice, that means there is a lot of room for each man and his dog). I think geography and economics would allow plenty for "permanent visitors." May I suggest quietly that there should be "controlled immigration"—and that would solve a lot of our growing problems.

By the way, controlled immigration has little to do with where they come from, and everything to do with where they go.

Allowing the big centres (read: Toronto, Vancouver, Calgary) to get fatter and fatter, while the smaller towns and villages waste away to nothing, is a prime example. Also, there are literally hundreds of jobs going unfilled throughout Canada for lack of qualified (and willing workers). Apart form the obvious results of butchering babies for the past forty years (and thus wiping a potential workforce), we are mishandling our immigrants, many who could fill those positions.

I'm thinking you're not thinking what I'm thinking. Let me explain (after all, it's my column, you know!): Allowing more immigrants into Canada, with a number of discretionary strings attached, would also help other nations of the world. Too many of the cities are over-crowded and too many of their citizens are under-achieving—with little or no hope for future progress.

My suggestion would be for a specific government portfolio of Economics and Immigration. (I want less government, too, so some other ministry would have to be down-sized.) That jurisdiction would be given over to channelling immigrants into all the far-flung corners of each province and territory. They would work with local, civic governments to encourage settlement, acculturalization, and prospects.

Distributing immigrants throughout the prairies, for example--and I cite the prairies because I have chosen to live here--would fill empty houses and schools, would meet many employment needs by filling and creating jobs, and would generate a robust economic cycle through these people becoming taxpayers, homeowners, consumers, and investors.

In Alberta alone, there are far too many towns slowly dying for want of people. The Canadian Way is to have about two kids, shop over the Internet, and live as close to a major city as possible. There is also that growing trend called "homeschooling" that can no longer be ignored. I do not stand in judgement of such a lifestyle, but I still think I'm free to pass along my observations. Some choices—homeschooling, for example—I strongly support.

The mess that our friends to the south of us have on their hands is very, very disturbing. I am speaking of the "illegals" (a shortened term for illegal immigrants). How and when they deal with it is beyond me. I do have an angle on that problem, but it may be a little irrelevant to a Canadian readership. Or at least at this point in our history.

If you know your prairie history, you'll be aware that my plan has precedence, sometime in the late 1870's-1890's. Certain ethnic groups were settled in various parts of our land, and, to my best knowledge, it worked well. The above scheme is not without pitfalls, but none so great that we should stand by and watch the economic paralysis impede us further.

The point is, it is our country and we should know what's good (and what's not) for this wonderful nation. I see controlled immigration as a win-win situation.

I also see a free pass into our national parks as another one.