Something on my Mind: The Canada I Love (2)

What could be more Canadian than maple syrup, beavers, Montreal Canadiens, and mounties? Well, let's try "elevators"? I can't think offhand of anything that represents small town Canada more than a grain elevator.

If last week's column was some broad stroke generalizations, this week we get down to specifics. I stand by what I said last week, but I will offer one caveat: There are some good things about urban life, as much as there some limitations with rural life.

Not many, of course, not many at all.

The other fact I tried to emphasize is that small towns (because that's where I hang my toque) are really a microcosm for what's good in and for Canada. (Maurice, that means that if Canada could in essence be one big small town [that doesn't even sound right], then our future is good.)

In other words, if you have it here, then Canada over there would be in good shape, for now and in the future.

The Canada I love should have that small town sense of accountability: In a city, no one knows your name or face, and doesn't even care that they don't know your name or face. In a small town, it's just the opposite—maybe too much the opposite The only time you are a number is when you're at the till in a grocery store, and the number in question is the last four digits of your phone number (for billing purposes).

I'm not a nameless, faceless, valueless person, and neither are you. And that's where the security of familiarity and the safety of accountability comes into play. Part of the village culture may include a little more curiosity than necessary, but at least someone's looking out for me. I cherish the greeting by name, the nod in the store, or the wave on the street. We need a Canada like that.

The Canada I love should have that small town sense of affordability: When we look at the medium-to-large cities, there is no way an ordinary working stiff (or his kids) can afford to buy a house. In an ideal world (read: Canada), we should be able to afford a roof over our head, and not be consumed by mortgage payments. One solution: I suggest moving to a more afforable market is one solution.

Rural housing is probably half or even a third of a comparable house in the city. Why more people don't shift away from the big centres is beyond me. I know employment is a factor: Can you spell C-O-M-M-U-T-E? It's a wise move for this nation as a whole to live within one's means. Our national debt load is spiralling out of control, with affordable housing being the chief culprit.

Beyond housing, I find that prices aren't that much higher in a small town than in a bigger one. Gas and groceries—two constant essentials—are not that much more in small towns. And with the infrastructure of highways throughout the province, major centres are usually within an hour for most people. This present generation is more and more mobile, so so driving is not a stretch. We need a Canada like that.

The Canada I love should have that small town sense of tranquility: I certainly don't mean all is serene in rural life. It's probably more a matter of pace more than peace. I have found that community events, appointments, shopping, coffee, and other daily habits have a certain deliberate pace to them.

"Rush hour," "red lights," and "line ups" are not in the village vocabulary.

To be sure, pettiness and politics can mark (and mar) every village. They are just not as prevalent in a town as in some bustling metropolis. We need a Canada like that.

One doesn't want to whitewash or over-simplify obvious exceptions to what I've said. I have observed the implosion of a once-healthy culture in my lfetime, and I am afraid for the next generation—and I don't even want to think about the one after that.

Small prairie towns reflect a better way of life from the past, and confirm a hopeful way of life for the future. The roots of multi-generational villages bode well for the bloom of future growth. We need a Canada like that.

There's more to be said and you can't say much in a thousand words, so I'll need to continue this for next week.

In the meantime, I have to "rush" off to a community event to—though it'll just take me four minutes to get there.

 

--

Sent using Postbox:
http://www.getpostbox.com

Something on my Mind: The Canada I Love (1)

Fourteen years ago, as some of you know, I left British Columbia for Alberta—the dogwood for the wild rose, if you will. It was a no-brainer for me, although I knew there would be many adjustments and some adversity. I just never knew how much adversity I would face.

House fires, employment terminations, health issues, and all the grief that comes with admninistrative callings—just for starters—were the results of my "eastward ho" urge. I have written about some of these things in these past ten years in this spot, so I won't bore you to death with all the pertinent, personal details.

After all, this is a column about general public issues, not a reality expose about intimate private ones.

By moving to Alberta, I shifted into a setting that is a microcosm for "The Canada I Love." It will take me a couple of columns to develop my thoughts, so bear with me. This column has never pretended to be a series of profound essays—rather stimulating food for thought, with some wordplay thrown in.

You see, the Canada I love is typified by a small prairie town (in the dead of winter, as a bonus). You can't get any more Canadian than that—unless there's a Tim Hortons [sic] nearby.

If I were somewhere in central or northern BC, I would likely say the same thing about a logging town; or back east, a fishing village. But I'm here, not there, so this is how I am framing today's column. The town I live in is the quintessence of Canada: maybe 900 people, basic services, muli-generational, and most people know each other's name. And you don't dare walk past someone without greeting them by name, or at least nodding.

Mutliply that by hundreds of other villages spread across the prairies, and you can see why I have great hope for the future of this great nation. Life in rural Canada is what our country is all about; if it is preserved, we've got a great future. If it's not, oh boy...

Call it a hamlet, a village, or a town, if you so choose; I do know the distinction. They capture the Canadian-esque mood more than any city could. And I speak as one who spent his formative years raised in a city.

Cities? You've seen one, you've seen them all. Okay, okay, it's not quite that simplistic, I agree. Each city has its own unique quality, to be sure. But it also has all those generic city hang-ups, those trends that do not bode well for Canada's future.

If cities are the jawbone of the country, then small prairie towns are its backbone.

You may doubt it, so check out how the cities voted in the last two elections (federal and provincial). If you want to blame anyone for the political mess we're in, just look to the cities. And then blame those politicians who listen to the city slickers' demands.

On the other hand, see how rural Canada voted. The rural populace seems to have its collective head on straight. For the most part, their thinking is practical, and balanced--a grassroots, hands-on approach to everyday life that is not found in any city.

It would be beneficial to our nation to have more politicians elected from rural Canada, but that policy flies in the face of "rep by pop." If we could, I'm sure we would want more common sense leadership.

My simple thesis is this: If you want to see what's right about Canada, both in its essence and its hope, look in our collective rural settings.

The longer I live in rural Alberta, the greater optimism I have for the future of this country. (And the inverse is true when it comes to cities.) All Canadians need to appreciate what small towns mean to the overall well-being of this nation.

And just outside any small prairie town are those enterprises called the "family farm." You may have heard of them. I don't think our "friends" in Edmonton understand the value that the agricultural sector plays in the economy and future well-being of our province, and by extension, our country. The NDP's Bill 6 fiasco has me wondering if rural Alberta is being punished for not voting red in May.

So if you want to see what's right about Canada, drop into a country village sometime.

And please, don't forget to nod.

 

--

Sent using Postbox:
http://www.getpostbox.com

Something on my Mind: The Canada I Remember (2)

Last week we parked briefly on “Memory Lane.” Today we're going to get moving, as we take in the sights (and sites) of a Canada I remember, stopping here or there for a brief discussion. There are too many places to visit, you might say. We'll try to make three stops along the way.

I don't expect you to remember what I remember, including the motivation for this particular column: My wife and I were blessed with yet another beautiful grandchild, Kieran Donovan Piper (Mosher) by name. It is bittersweet indeed: Sweet, for the joy that new life brings, and a healthy baby after two miscarriages; yet bitter, for the concern I have for his future in Canada.

It won't be the same one I grew up in.

You may or may not agree with me, and, ironically, that's okay...especially in the Canada I remember. Today? We have been poisoned with so much political correctness, that we're afraid to opine on anything anymore.

We can no longer stimulate minds or change hearts, because we might step on toes. To be sure, we need to be mindful of other people's opinions: perhaps restrained, just not shackled.

Let's start with education. The Canada I remember had a better grasp on education back in my day. I think there is a sincere yet misguided notion that, because we have more toys and tools, we're better off today. I can't buy that notion.

I would like to ask anyone in academia or business the following questions about the students we are producing: Can they think critically? Do they have a good work ethic? Can they take facts, interpret them accurately, then draw conclusions? Just exactly what is our educational system producing?

Where do I start? The textbooks back then weren't so revisionist or relativistic, so wussy or wishy-washy. They dealt with facts, not feelings. Basic math, grammar, and history, were dealt with as concrete concepts.

The type of student back then (again, exceptions notwithstanding) was more focused. I speak as a student, an educator, and a parent. I still maintain that one of the greatest curses to modern education (for starters) is any electronic gadgets that kids use today. Kids may not be dumber, but they sure seem shallower and lazier, less responsible and less motivated.

Said gadgets have dumbed a lot of us down, disallowing any true student to investigate, analyze, and discover the joy of academic accomplishments.

Part of my personal educational vision is to get the basics well established, then steer the students into careers and trades for which they have a bent. This would include appropriate seat work, as well as work experience. If so, this would be a huge step towards balanced education.

And as I have said before, there are many exceptional teachers today, no question—and the same goes for some great students.

The Canada I remember was healthier. Today we are sicker, slower, and stouter. Back then, we washed our hands, but only when necessary; there was no obsessive-compulsive edict like there is today. Playing and eating back then were less complicated, less sanitized—and we lived to write about it.

We didn't get vaccinated because we didn't need to be vaccinated, just like we don't today. There were safety measures then, just not as excessive and intrusive as today.

In the main, we were careful and care-free.

Back then, junk food was a rare treat; today it has become a staple in our diet--and we are suffering for it. There are different health crises today--with obesity being one of them, which contributes to a myriad of medical issues.

Some precautions are necessary, especially in the area of food purchasing, preparing, and processing. It just calls for a balanced, pro-active response today of both preventative medicine and healthy diets.

The Canada I remember believed in and supported families. Even the word “family” has been re-defined or even rejected. I am “old school”—for a lot of historical, social, moral, economical, and biblical reasons—and the Canada I remember functioned better when the traditional family itself was allowed to function better.

Home is the place where manners should be taught, obedience should be learned, character should be developed, and love should be felt. If the family unit is undermined, there is serious fallout for the future of the culture (I know, I know, you've heard all this before).

I have likely missed some differences that you had on your list; I know my list is endless, but my space isn't. Lots of ranting today, and I don't want to sound so negative. Next week we'll move on to what's great about the Canada I love.

 

--

Sent using Postbox:
http://www.getpostbox.com

Something on my Mind: The Canada I Remember (1)

If last week's column got you riled up, this week's and next's may get you even riler (not a real word, Maurice). Yes, I'm looking back (see heading for clarity), but it's more of a wistful than wishful.

If I am consistent with what I write (and I trust that I am), and you're consistent with what you comprehend (and I hope that you are), then somehow I need to make a connection between the Canada I once knew with the Canada I now see—you know, that cause and effect thing.

January is the month of reflection. Its namesake (Janus, from the Latin) has two faces, one looking back, the other looking ahead. While I am not into mythology, per se, it's good illustration fodder. If I wanted to play with words, I would turn it into a verb, with the following statement: I'm going to janus in today's column.

But seeing that I don't like to play with words...

Some of today's reflection is based on this time of year, but mostly, it is because my wife and I have welcomed yet another beautiful grandson, Kieran of Halifax. He joins sisters Kilmeny and Khaira, as well as cousins Ian, Jasmine, and Harry.

No worries: Today's thoughts are not about that beautiful baby; rather, they are about the country that beautiful baby is going to grow up in.

It's a Canada that is quite different than the one I grew up in.

The Canada I remember made more sense to me than this one does now. And I don't think these are the ramblings of some old goat in his 60s. (Well, actually they are and actually I am, but I think my opinion is cogent and concise.) To be sure, my memory could play games with me, but I think I'm pretty clear-headed these days—though probably more clear-headed than pretty.

The Canada I remember was smarter, wiser, healthier, friendlier, simpler, and safer than the one I live in today. That's a blanket statement, to be sure, and it would take a 10,000-word booklet to develop that position. For now, it will take a set of two breezy, 1,000+ word columns just to develop it.

Let me insert a caveat here: When it comes to remembering the “good old days,” even decades before I was born, I am not whitewashing our racist past. (Remember the Chinese, Ukrainians and the Japanese “problems”? The time frame was the building of the railroad in BC, WW I, and WW II.) Those were not the “good old days,” especially if you were Chinese, Ukrainian, or Japanese.

Even thinking about Nova Scotia: Can you spell N-e-g-r-o-e-s or A-c-a-d-i- a? You do recall that from history class, don't you? And our track record with “First Nations” is not a very good one while we're at it.

Nor am I overlooking the sloppy environmental track record in the past by big business. In matters of life and death, in the form of murder and mayhem, we have had issues over the decades. And while we're disclaiming everything else, there were broken families back then, too. We can't pretend everyone lived in a “little house on the prairie.”

Again, learning from the past would help us face the present—a line I recognize from somewhere...

However, let's park here briefly and address those above issues:

With the “First Nations” challenges, we still haven't got it right. But any rational suggestion from the common man (and that includes you and me) would seem as implicit racism, so we are forced to speak up, put up, then shut up.

The whole reserve debacle isn't working out at any level or for the good of anyone, least of all the “First Nations” individuals themselves—unless you're a chief. Getting rid of the reserves would be the best thing for all, but that would be so drastic. I have always seen natural assimilation, not forced isolation, as the best course.

The alleged arch-enemy of the environment (big business) has been replaced by another—more galling--arch-enemy, namely, the environmentalists themselves. If ordinary citizens could see what's really going on, they would be shocked: tree-green is not lily-white.

It is such an overwhelming topic, I hardly know where to start. Here's further fodder: How's our sense of entitlement, from sixty years ago to today—better or worse? Our work ethic? Have you talked to any employers lately, and their despair in getting reliable employees (you know, the type that simply show up for work)?

Let's keep going: Is our family life better today than it was sixty years ago? I'm speaking of the traditional family, providing a stable foundation (past) for generations to come (future). Can we discuss law and order while we're at it? And in matters of health and welfare, are we in better shape or not?

Just enough questions to tease you. Details to follow next week.

 

--

Sent using Postbox:
http://www.getpostbox.com