Foremost on my Mind: Four Strong Winds (Part 1 and 2)

Part 1

I cannot think of any other country that I would rather live in than Canada. And I can't think of any other nationality I would rather be than Irish-Canadian. Okay, just Canadian. So on the eve of Canada Day, once known in my world as Dominion Day, I want to not only wish her (him? it?) a happy birthday, I want to list reasons why Canada is a great country.

There should be no illusions as to the future of our country. There is no wisdom in sticking our collective heads in the sand and thinking everything is okay; everything is not okay: Like every other nation in the developing world, we are facing challenges that many never saw, even a generation ago. Or, better stated, maybe they did see them, but no one listened. It would take a book, not a column, to lay out a reasonable blueprint for Canada's future.

The nature of this column is more along the line of one-liners, not heavy tomes, so I will refrain from pontificating about some of the fears I have for the greatest country in the world. Today's column is more of a look back, with the hope that past successes can be parlayed into future ones.

So the following are ten reasons why I love this country, with appropriate kudos and cautions. Take them in the spirit in which they're given.

Its geographical diversity. I like mountains (like Switzerland), but I like more than just mountains. I like warm weather (like Hawaii), but a little snow and ice and rain brings on variety. Perhaps no province captures this more than British Columbia. A cursory trip across Canada shows its diversity

Among other things, I like all four seasons. Denmark would be okay for a brief holiday; Arizona would great for about a week or two; But too much of the same would simply be too much. From mountains to deserts, and everything in between, such diversity allows for a welcome change of seasons.

Its historical depth. Boring History? Are you kidding me? You're reading the wrong books, watching the wrong channels, listening to the wrong teachers. Check your sources, please. Explorers, pioneers, immigrants, and entrepreneurs have all added colour to our past. Foreign workers, for that matter, have helped make this country what it is.

On the topic of explorers, as an example; you'd be thrilled with their exploits. Check out the foreign workers that populated the prairies 100 years ago—you know, the ones who settled down here, the ones you call grandpa and grandma. Try discovering all the past inventions that came from Canadian minds. We have a very rich history.

Its cultural scope. (See previous paragraph.) Pockets of different ethnic groups are scattered from St. John's, NF, to Victoria, BC. This ethnicity should be celebrated, but within the grand scheme of things. We celebrate differences through religion, community festivals, ethnic neighbourhoods, but must still see the commonality of being Canadian —a term that is unfortunately being re-defined as we write.

This, of course, is not the same as multiculturalism, a ticking time bomb. Either we band together, despite our differences, or we isolate ourselves from each other, and increase our differences, at the expense of our commonality as Canadians. Language, culture, and religion all factor into making Canada—for better or worse.

Its spiritual freedom. At this point, we are still a nation for the right of all religions to practice their faith(s). I'm not Sikh, Mormon, New Ager, Evolutionist (just a smattering example of some religions), but I allow them the right to practice their faith. I certainly don't embrace their perspective, but, hey, this is Canada, so we tolerate each other, don't we?

We're not Iraq...yet. Curtailing said freedom, especially in the area of lifestyle choices (my, was that put nicely or what?), is an evil that will be all religions' downfall. From my perspective, the more we turn from the Judeo-Christian basis for law, justice, and freedom of speech, the worse off we'll be.

Part 2

Its financial foundation. Compared to the other G-7 nations (once know as G-8 when it included Russia), Canada has become a marvel in the world's eyes when it comes to finances. I have no idea exactly what Harper and his people have done, but they've done it right. I think low interest rates are one of the key factors.

The nations of the world should sit up and take notice how the Conservative government has weathered the financial storm over the past decade. Can you imagine an NDP government in Ottawa succeeding like this? I didn't think so. I don't think we appreciate how strong our economy is, compared to other nations

Its political perspective. My ideal would be to have a conservative government in power, both in Ottawa and in every province, with the left (or the liberals: the terms are interchangeable) in opposition. You've read it here before: Never, ever reverse it; we've seen too many provinces and the havoc the left-leaning governments have wreaked.

As you are well aware, I lean to the right of things—conservative morally, fiscally, socially, among others. Things work better for all, in my biased opinion, when things are, well, right.

Its moral roots. The Canada I was raised in, of course, is not the Canada I live in--those good old days, when right was right and wrong was wrong. Every institution, from the church to the courts to the family (even the arts), were held to higher standards back then. It was a safer place to live, think, and inhale.

There is a spirit of tolerance today, but that's all it is, namely, a spirit. There's no substance to it. It is a selective and inconsistent tolerance, and far too many people have been duped into thinking we're a better society because of it. No, friend, we are actually far worse off than we were even ten years ago.

Its natural wealth. Primary resources, from fishing to logging to farming to mining to fishing again (from British Columbia to Newfoundland in that statement). Drag it, log it, harvest it, drill it, extract it, then drag it again. We are rich beyond our limited ability to pull prosperity out of the water, ground, or air. We need to get back to improving those fundamentals.

I am grateful for those men and women who risk life and limb to fish, log, farm, mine, and fish again. They are an essential service to extracting all the varied wealth that lies at our feet. We need to do whatever we can to continue to support them. Reigning in environmental extremism and managing said resources responsibly has also been a key factor.

Its global influence. We're not much when it comes to, say, soccer, I suppose, but the world is much bigger and more needy than a soccer field. We have an army, but there is more to solving the world's problems than shooting the enemy. Canada has always been the leader in humanitarian aid and peacekeeping support. The world is a healthier and safer place because of Canada.

We're usually one of the first two countries to rush to the aid of others when natural disaster strikes. I've said this before, but the freedom-loving democratic countries certainly have it right when it comes to helping their fellow-humans. Rarely, if ever, do we see those Muslim-based (and socialist-based, for that matter) countries rise to the occasion.

Its personal appreciation. I was born here almost 60 years ago and I have no plans to leave. The thought of the Bahamas appeals to me, but only for the month of February. I need to stay somewhere where I can whine about the weather, hockey, price of wheat, the price of gas, and politics in a meaningful way. And if not meaningful, at least in a loud way.

So, Canada, you're one hundred and forty-seven years old. I hope I'm as robust as you are, if and when I reach that age. When you were my age, it was the “Roarin' Twenties,” and it would be nice to hear you roar again.

Happy birthday to you, Canada

Foremost on my Mind: A Late Father's Day Greeting

Owing to the necessity of deadlines, I can never get any pertinent column in on time. I am either a few days early or few days late for any significant event—that is, unless the big day (whatever it is) happens to fall on Tuesday.

So, a day late and a dollar short, here's to all you dads ( real and wannabe, legitimate and illegitimate) out there: Happy Father's Day.

I won't be too hard on you (or me) today; we have enough movies, television sit-coms, and feminists doing that already. But, on the other hand, I won't pontificate about what to do, what not to do, and how to follow through.

After nearly thirty years of trying (which rhymes with crying), I still haven't got it straight.

When it comes to Father's Day, I must confess that I haven't sent him a father's day card for over twenty-two years. “Ignorant wuss,” you say? “Insensitive boor,” you say again?

No, try this: He's been “gone” for that length of time. From my Christian worldview, I believe he's gone to his reward, to a place known as heaven. (I'm not asking you to agree with me, but I would ask you to show some--what's that buzz word today?--”tolerance,” please.)

If I could write him a note of appreciation for being my father, I would include some of the following points. It's too bad he is not able to read it. Maybe you can use some of these insights for your own father sometime.

First, I would thank him for his faith. Again, I'm not asking anyone to agree with my view. After all, I am having a wide variety of lifestyles, values, and perspectives crammed down my throat, so I think I have as much right to express my point of view as anyone else.

His was a faith of practical Christianity, by living by the Good Book, by serving others, by honouring God. I have picked up on much, but certainly not all, of that. I say that to my shame. His was a faith that was caught, not necessarily taught.

Second, I would thank him for loving my mother. He was a wonderful example of a genuinely loving husband. Now that would be a salt-of-the-earth love, not the Hollywood tripe we're exposed to these days. His was a respectful affection, a clear focus on who was the most important person in his life.

His example wasn't as clear to me when I was a kid as it is today, now that I am pushing 60. I wonder why I pick up on these things so late in life?

Third, I would thank him for being there for me...often. I was the fourth son of four sons, and there were times that I felt a little left out, that I was an appendage in the family—and not a vital organ. However, that was probably just the confused perspective of a twelve-year-old.

Over the years, when I was in public school, I was involved in a number of plays. (Surprised?) Guess who always showed up to see his son play the spinny wizard in The Wizard of Oz and the goofy step-father in a musical version of Cinderella, among other plays? (Maurice, it rhymes with “egad.”)

Was he perfect? Are you kidding me? But twenty-two years since his passing, I can't remember any of his faults. That's what time, maturity, and life itself does, namely, you move on and forget the petty disappointments.

It's a much different world than it was in the 60's and 70's, when my parents were raising us on dearest Lulu Island (seriously). The role and value of dads have changed considerably since then, but the essence of fatherhood has not.

For those around me, I wish I had half of his faith, his love, and his support.

He won't be reading this column where he is. I doubt they have Internet in heaven, and even if they did, I doubt he would be up for any form of social media. I can't see him doing Facebook (he worked more along the style of face-to-face); and he probably wouldn't be into texting (though he loved the Great Text).

Here's to you, Dad.

Foremost on my Mind: Mayhem in Moncton

As I write this, the manhunt for Moncton's cop killer is over, and the alleged murderer is behind bars. Not only are the Monctonians happy: People right across Canada can breath a collective sigh of relief. It's a time of bewilderment, grief, and reflection—which will be the make-up of today's column.

Probably like you, when I first heard of the shooting in Moncton, I thought they meant Moncton, Alabama, or Texas, or Virginia. The news broadcasters surely were mistaken, I thought. These sort of insanities take place in Connecticut, Colorado, or California, but not Canada.

I was shocked when I discovered it happened in Canada, then sickened when I read of the senseless loss of life. I thought of the choking panic that must have gripped Moncton, New Brunswick—dare I say?--Canada. Like you, I was relieved when I heard the killer was finally apprehended.

Whatever else comes out of the misery of the Moncton murders, the bleat for stricter gun control will surely be front and center. The argument will flow like this: “If there had been better gun control legislation, the young man in question would not have had his arsenal, and three RCMP officers would not be dead.”

Really? Since when do deranged people, heartless crooks, and other felons obey the laws of the land? Law-abiding citizens do, for sure, and for them to be compliant and unarmed in the face of growing lawlessness is sheer stupidity, idiocy of the highest order.

The issue in Moncton was not a case of lax gun control, of course; rather, it was a case, as usual, of a disturbed young man troubled young man who fell through the cracks—emotionally, vocationally, socially, spiritually, and morally. It had nothing to do with gun control anymore than it had to do with him being white, male, Catholic, or homeschooled.

He was indeed all of the above but, at the same time, he was none of them, simply because those factors are irrelevant to the carnage he produced.

It was one of those rare moments--once the feeling of this-can't be-happening-in-Canada subsided-- that I felt truly Canadian. If there ever was true irony, this was it: I felt so connected to my fellow- Canadians because they were Canadian, yet so disconnected because, well, they were Canadian—and “things like this do not happen in Canada.”

I felt their pain and fear, even though I was thousands of kilometres away. In fact, I felt more angst for those in Moncton than I did for others in recent mass slayings. Somehow, as grievous as the shootings in Seattle, Newtown, and Centennial were, they seemed so removed from my reality, my culture, my people.

I 'm simply saying that's how I did feel, not should feel.

What is equally frightening is that if some lunatic freak—or even one leaning towards said lunacy—could snap in Moncton, who's to say that couldn't happen in, say, Camrose, Vulcan, or even Bow Island? Truth be told, it could. Canada is obviously no longer immune to this.

There are enough disaffected people in these places that could easily snap over anything (or nothing) and do the same. Real life issues such as family strife, school bullying, sexual frustration, and workplace friction can all be contributing factors. People snap all the time, but usually without a rifle to carry it out.

Said snapping exhibits itself in road rage, domestic violence, suicide-murder, and every other form of abuse.

There is no easy solution to preventing such mayhem. Rarely can issues be reduced to a mere concept or even a single word, but I'll stick my neck out and suggest one:

“Isolationism,” as in being alone, or at least feeling that way.

My observation is that this is the key thread running through the shattered lives of the mass murderers over these past three to four years, in your Connecticut, Colorado, and California—that feeling of being isolated from family, friends, and things familiar.

No one needs to be a super hero these days, but reaching out to the lonely and disaffected in your circle of friends could be a good place to start. Who knows what life you might save?

It might end up being your own.

Foremost on my Mind: Break or Breakdown?

It's that time of year when parents start panicking and kids start drooling, both over the same thing--summer holidays. And then there's the teacher, panicking and drooling at the same time.

Of course, that may have more to do with the workload than anything else.

Parents panic because they will be having all these extra kids around the house for days and weeks (and nearly months) at a time. And kids with too little to do and limited motivation to be productive are a volatile entity. Sleeping in, laying around, hanging out, and playing cyber games are every parent's nightmare—but every kid's dream.

In fact, that's what has them drooling.

And then there are the teachers. There's the panic of all the year-end demands and the drooling for those weeks without marking, prepping, and disciplining. Summer holidays indeed are a welcome perk in that business.

No matter where I stand on the role of public/private education vs. home education, I will be the first to acknowledge that teachers do deserve most of the breaks they get, with summer holidays being the biggest plum of them all.

Good teachers spend extra hours every day at their craft, well beyond classroom time. They easily cram a 52-week year into 40 weeks. The track record of a few poor teachers out there shouldn't take away from the many good ones.

It may not be that long ago that you were a student in a classroom. If it was, then at least envision being a teacher, with thirty-plus students that look, talk, dress, and act like your own kids. Can you imagine teaching thirty kids all day, every day, just like your own? Didn't think so.

Then throw into the mix subjects you both hate (teachers and students), out-of-control hormones, baggage from home and generally life itself, and you will have a recipe for a modern classroom setting. (Okay, not always, but often.)

And that's one of the main reasons why teachers need holidays.

I dabble in teaching on a part-time basis, as you know, teaching only two days a week at this point of my career. Through the gracious direction of my principal, I teach subjects I like, ones that I think I'm quite competent to teach. Classes are small, and, for the most part, kids are well-behaved. Thus, I can't relate to the challenges of what I just said two paragraphs ago.

While my wife and I have taken the homeschooled route, that's not how most people have their kids educated. But the thrust of today's column is not about teacher options—it's about teacher holidays.

If you as a parent have handed over the education of your child to a teacher, then you have a moral, personal, and educational responsibility to support that person—and by extension, that system.

And part of that support should come in the form of understanding your child's teacher a little better. Understanding their need for holidays would be a good place to start.

I speak from personal experience when I speak of the joy of encouragement that comes from supportive parents. Notes, handshakes, and a word of thanks over the years have gone a long way to bless me.

Over the years, it appears that the relationship breakdown between school and home has eroded. One of the successes of the school system of a generation or two ago was how much the families were able to work with them.

In other words, working together for the common good of the child.

And part of that equation would be supporting them in the breaks they deserve so they will be refreshed enough to be more effective with your kids. Again, that becomes a win-win-win situation.

Just thinking about that makes me drool.