Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Something on my Mind: Book. It.

They say that March is National Book Month, so I need to speak up in celebration of literacy This is my chance to join the "volumes" of librarians, authors, publishers, teachers, and readers in celebrating "books."

I don't know who taught me how to read back in grade one or grade two, back in1961-1962. I think it was Miss Lamont at B. W. Garrett in Richmond, BC. I will ever be grateful for that significant contribution she made to my life. I can't imagine not being able to read. Colouring pictures gets so boring after a while, you know. And I know I could read more, even though I read everyday as it is.

As a homeschooler supervisor, I am seeing countless devoted mothers, who may or may not even have grade 8 education themselves, teaching their own kids to read. These Mennonites mothers are making a tremendous contribution to our province in that way alone.

I hope our friends in Alberta Ed appreciate that.

I feel sad when I hear of people—kids and adults-- who want to read, but don't have the opportunity to learn how to. But I feel angry when I know of those who can read, but rarely do it—and even then, only when they have to. What an absolute waste of a privilege!

I cannot remember a night that I didn't go to bed without reading something, sometimes parts of two books or magazines! I have a wide variety of books and magazines on my shelves. I think we have a bookcase in every room in my house, and that inclues the bathrooms.

(After all, where do you put Uncle John's Bathroom Reader?)

I know there is something out there called e-book and Kindle, but I'm not into that style. I'm old school when it comes to reading. I like flipping pages and holding the book. Not sure if that makes me a tactile reader, but, boy, that sure sounds intelligent. Nor does it mean that I'm right (or stubborn, for that matter); it just means that I like a particular approach to reading. There is no right or wrong to it; more of a this way or that way.

The key is to get of your duff and read. (No, no, actually, it means stay on your duff and read.)

Books are likely the easiest, cheapest, and fastest form of entertainment. Kids can read in the backseat without the racket of a cd or a dvd; they can curl up on the couch for hours on end, and there's no serious distraction; or they can head to bed early and snuggle up with a book.

The same applies to the adults in newspaperland: Why go out to a movie when you can curl up with a mug of tea and find all the excitement, grim, suspense, and laughter within the covers of a book? No need to travel to Bali, Belize, Barbados, or Bolivia, when you can do it (virtually) at home—for next to nothing?

For myself, I read mysteries, histories, and biographies. They put me in situations that I don't have the time, money, or ability to pursue--and perhaps I'm just too chicken to do. If they are too intimidating, I just shut the book and crawl under the covers—and scream for help under my pillow.

I can travel for free and for as long as I want when I read a book. The one thing I have to pack is my imagination. The only jetlag I ever experience is a numb arm from being immobile for so long—and another part of my anatomy from sitting on it too long (too polite to mention the word here).

So why do people, boys especially, not enjoy reading? I have no idea. Maybe my boys are different, but they all love (present tense) reading. It took them years after the girls started reading to get into it, but when they did, they really did. They have advanced so far in so many areas because of it. We as parents modeled it, so I'm sure that was a factor.

It's not the only reason, of course: We made books available throughout the house. We encouraged reading (another form of modeling). We read to them when they were younger (okay, my wife did most of it, but I did my fair share).

Reading, then enjoying reading, and finally, maintain a reading lifestyle helps immensely, of course; but it also helps with directions, instructions, maps, street signs, and trouble-shooting, for starters.

If you read this column and understood it, maybe you should go thank your own Miss Lamont.



 
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Friday, February 19, 2016

Something on my Mind: The Worst V-word Ever

I have written a couple of these "letter" columns before. (Can you remember which letters?) With two down, I have 24 to go. That means that I have enough left over to write a column like this every second week for almost a year.

Then again, if I doubled up the letters (eg., "b" would be for busy and bully; and "e" would be entitlement and escapism), I could fill up a whole year's worth. Clever thought, but I don't plan to do it quite like that.

However, I will drop these "gems" in now and thenbecause I need to lighten up from my rants about carbon footprints and climate change, the Liberals' evil agenda, abortion and vaccinations, GSA and NDP, David Suzuki and Michael Moore, Bill 6 and 10, and other wholly unscientific and irrational matters.

You know that I'm saying the above to bait you, and that's not really kind of me. I'm sure other equally nice people have equally strong feelings about these matters, only from a different perspective. I apologize in a general way for how I say this, but not for what I say. I believe, along with the muted majority, that there are so many issues out there that are being crammed down our collective throats, without so much as an opportunity for public dialogue.

From my studies in history, I am reminded a little of Stalinist Russia.

I think one of the hallmarks of a free democracy is something called a referendum. Wouldn't be bad pratice, but we need a free democracy to carry it out.

Meanwhile, back at the letter"V": What are your guesses? Venom? Villagers? Vegreville? Victim? "Victor Victoria"?

Let's try the word "virtual," as in not real, not physically existing or not having substance, or simulated, artificial, and imitation.

A little grammar lesson here, please. When I eat imitation crab at Christmas, though it's not real crab, it does have substance. Or when there is a tribute to Roy Orbison, he is not there, as he left us too soon many years ago. However, someone else is there, so there's the substance, just not the real thing.

So in both cases, we can't use the word "virtual."

No, the angle that I am working today is that non-existent information that sits on one's computer screen day in and day out, year in and year out—it is there, but not real. And if one lives long enough in that world, it's a real struggle adapting to the outside world. I don't want to even imagine how many hours per week kids sit in front of any sort of screen—and then multiply those hours by weeks in a year.

Staring at a screen can lead to a zombie-like existence, that zoned-out mind set that seems too prevalent today. All kids? Hardly. Just too many kids. Maybe even kids I know personally, so I am not spouting off from a theoretical perspective.

And that, in a nutshell, is the pith of many problems at many levels in today's culture, especially among the young. Let's see: there's virtual death, sex, grief, violence, issues, and relationships. When one extricates oneself from the virtual world of graphic violence, then shifts into the real world, the tranistion is so painful and awkward that it becomes an emotional, physical, mental, social, and moral calamity.

I think, and I am just expressing my opinion here (because this one is really dicey), that one reason for so much random violence today, as an example, is because there is such a frightening disconnect between the virtual world and the real world. In fact, there is no connection whatsoever.

For example, there is the vitual death and destruction, guts and gore, and then there's the real thing. Real knives produce real wounds, which can lead to real damage (even real death).

There is no easy solution, so don't read on looking for one. I suggest it's like an addiction. No, actually it is an adiction –and must be treated with the same kid gloves, the same firm but gentle approach.

A virtual world leads to a fantasy existence. A fantasy existence leads to a irrational lifestyle. And we are already paying a heavy price for the results.



 
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Thursday, February 4, 2016

Something on my Mind: The Canada I Love

I never thought it would take me three columns to develop these few thoughts about the Canada I love. And there could be more, but three's enough. It's a much broader subject than I realized, when I started out, two deadlines ago.

Grammar, maybe; word play, definitely. But love for one's country? That's so, so American, isn't it?

Well, being "so" American isn't all that bad, or at least it wasn't a decade or two ago, say, in the pre-Clinton era. I wouldn't want to identify with present America, at least not until that Obama-nation is removed.

Meanwhile, up here in Canada...

I know that my simple thesis is, once again, wishful thinking, but very much in a literal (not figurative) sense. Literally, these are real wishes that I'm hoping to come true, for the good of all. And figuratively, "wishful thinking" means "pie-in-the-sky-in-the-sweet-by-and-by." In other words, no real basis in reality.

I like to think that I speak for grassroots man and the common sense woman when I suggest that life in a small prairie town reflects what the rest of Canada should look like--naysayers and doomsdayers, notwithstanding.

So let me continue my flow of the "Canada I love":

The Canada I love should have that small town sense of community: I have attended countless meetings, workshops, celebrations, and fundraisers, and each one had that sense of community. I have a greater sense of community when I am involved in the community. The cold, distant nation that I often see and hear about is not one that I want to be part of.

We need a Canada where we can feel at home, drop our guard, celebrate each culture, and mesh as a cohesive unit. I know that sounds kind of wussy, but I once knew a Canada like that once.

"Familiarity" could be another word for "community," though I think the latter speaks to the broader issue. It's that sense of belonging, of being part of something. There is so much disconnect in today's Canada. And with that disconnect, there seems to be no sense of ownership and responsibility, and you know the lifestyle that that leads to.

The Canada I love should have that small town sense of security: That's sort of tied into "accountability," but it has its own application. I know for a fact that there are people who don't lock their houses at night, who leave their keys in their car. Not me—so don't get any ideas--but I understand the thinking.

It's an on-going trust, an unpretentious thinking, something you can't and shouldn't do in the big city. It is so reassuring to raise a family in that kind of environment. I would like to live in a land that is safe and secure, free from having to look over one's shoulder, bolting one's door, and taking excessive protective measures. I would like to restore that sense of security to our nation. We once had a Canada like that.

Sure there's trouble in small towns: Homes get broken in to, marriages fall apart, petty vandalism marks a bored punk culture—that sort of trouble is nowhere near the same level in a city. People are people, and there's more trouble when there's more of them.

The Canada I love should have a small town sense of morality: Remember the days of right and wrong, good and bad, male and female, and appropriate and inappropriate? I was raised that way—and I don't just mean in my parents' home. It was taught in every institution I knew.

People are moral or immoral no matter where they live. My point is that, or at least it seems to me, there appears to be a clearer moral distinction, a more definite line in the sand, when people are not lost in the haze of mass humanity. We need to restore our sense of morality as a nation.

When I think of the shape of the future of the Western world—forget the Middle East and Asia for now—I shudder. We've got it great here in Canada and we need to keep it that way. We need to remember, then restore, the values from the past to shape the vision for the future.

If you're not sure what I mean, go visit a small prairie town or stay in the one you're in—and keep on maintaining your town's values.



 
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