Foremost on my Mind: It's the Law

I met one of Washington state's finest the other day: He clocked me at fourteen miles per hour over the posted speed limit (Washington hasn't gone metric yet), and now I am ten times that amount lighter in the wallet.

I wanted to protest that I didn't know they had lowered the speed limit just a couple kilometres, er, miles, back; I also wanted to argue that I needed to get to the Sea-Tac airport to pick up my daughter; and I wanted to tell to tell him that it didn't seem fair that the other ten cars around me were doing the same speed.

Actually, I wanted to tell him a few other things, but they were both unmentionable and unprintable.

The truth be told, I was speeding, and it's against the law to speed. I broke the law and I was wrong. You see, I was raised by two very good parents: Remember those old-fashioned moms and dads who loved each other for decades, who had a firm yet loving idea of discipline, who co-operated with various institutions (local school, church, and police)?

They raised me and my older brothers with that quaint notion that if you “do the crime, you do the time.” Okay, they weren't that funny; that's the role of some witty newspaper columnist, who read it himself somewhere else.

The point is simple: A generation ago, we were producing families from good homes who knew what it was to face consequences for breaking the law. It's changed somewhat these days, what with knowing the difference between right and wrong, truth and error, good and bad, not quite as clearly defined any longer. I admit that those comments (in terms of good and bad parenting skills) are on the slight generalization side of things.

Last time I checked, lawlessness is lawlessness. The only difference is in degrees: some are big, some are bigger, and some are the biggest of all.

Over the past year or so, we have tolerated the Occupy movement, the Quebec university student movement, Idle No More movement, all in the name of freedom, rights, and justice. I see them as activities done in the name of lawlessness.

Trouble is, there may be some token justification for their cause, but they are going about addressing or solving it in a very wrong and dangerous way.

I suppose there are two extremes are both worth monitoring, namely, a police state and a lawless state. My concern here is the latter. As always, it starts in the home, where children must learn to obey the laws of the parents. From home we move on to day school—whatever form it takes—where the students must follow the rules of the school.

Whether it's home or school, for the most part, said rules are generally there for the good of all members of that community, no matter how small. Little outbursts can lead to out-of-control tantrums and physical violence, schoolyard pranks can lead to community vandalism, if not held in check.

Kids need to learn to obey mom and dad, teacher and principal, because one day they will get out into the real world and be forced to obey a boss here or a cop there. Even in the workplace, wildcat strikes, unnecessary absenteeism, and slacking off, are all forms of lawlessness. On the other hand, unions are often formed because there is an attitude or practice of lawlessness among the management.

Whether it's the mobs on the lakefront streets in downtown Chicago, the sandy climes of Daytona Beach during spring break, or some railroad track just outside of Milton, Ontario, lawlessness of any stripe is unacceptable in a civilized society. Note: I said “lawlessness,” not peaceful protest. Do not get the two confused.

If I have issues with the government, I don't shoot the leader; I vote for a more acceptable candidate—then hold him or her accountable. The former is lawlessness, the latter is peaceful protest (or exercising my democratic right). Or if I am horrified with the butchering of defenseless babies, I don't shoot the killer doctor; I support victims, I promote adoption, and I encourage abstinence. And I would vote for those who agree with me.

I would have exercised my democratic right last week on the Interstate-90, but Canadians can't vote in America. I simply voted with my foot and slowed down. That makes for a cheaper, wiser, and saner response.

Come to think of it, cheaper, wiser and saner sounds like a good response to a lot of things these days.

Foremost on mt Mind: Good Wood

One of the saddest sights on a prairie landscape—next to seeing Calgary Flames pennants waving in the wind-- is the state of so many neglected wooden out-buildings. The sadness is because of what they once were, as well as what they could be.

Re-stated: past usefulness and present potential. All quite possibly lost.

These buildings are Exhibit A when it comes to the Second Law of Thermodynamics (= things left to themselves will deteriorate and wear down). Be they farmhouses or granaries, or other sheds of any description, they are finished, having been replaced by newer, more time (and weather)-resistant buildings.

Check out any homesite in your neck of the, uh, grassland: If a family is living there, they are probably in the new house, with the old one just sitting there, like an old person waiting to die. Sometimes, though, they get fixed up and used for the hired hand.

That's the past. For the present, and for a number of reasons, I would like to see them torn down completely. They are fire hazards, eyesores, and useless—at least in their present condition. I personally obtained five from my neighbour Claude years ago that were in great shape, and they re-invented themselves into five distinctive and useful buildings on my Foremost acreage. To date I believe they are still standing, still functional.

You might say I was too dumb to build these myself, but too smart to not use them somehow.

Essentially, everything that was wood—I suppose that would be all of it—could be put to use. If the buildings are still in good shape, they could become tool sheds and chicken houses; even a creative carpenter could convert one or two into a guest house or two. If I had the skill, that's what I would do.

Would that be “Little Granary on the Prairie” Bed and Breakfast? Just wondering.

For those buildings that are no longer intact, the parts of the whole could be very functional as used lumber. Anyone who has ever been inside these granaries is well aware of the great shape this wood is in. Taken apart, very carefully, of course, they could become part of a used lumber inventory--or material for the start of another shed. And most of that wood has never seen the light of day, only adding to its durability.

Furthermore, there are pieces of wood that are too short for construction, yet too good for destruction. I suggest—drum roll, please—material for picture frames. Not a new idea, I'm sure, but one I haven't read about or seen implemented much. “Useless” pieces of wood that may not be more than two to three feet would be perfect specimens.

It could be pitched as authentic “prairified” (no such word, Maurice—that's why I have to use those squiggly things), for the simple fact that there's a lot of history in those frames. It would look good, and give a nice pioneer feel to, say, a Robert Duncan or Norman Rockwell picture.

I think there would be no problem presenting this concept to art shops and framing stores in the big cities. People in Calgary and Edmonton, Vancouver and Victoria, for starters, would pay wonderful money for this western iconic wood.

Got any old buildings you want torn down? Getting them razed (not “raised,” Maurice; that's going the other way) is half the battle. Few can be bothered with such grunt work, so that actually might be the toughest part of this vision.

But once they're gone, your homesite is a whole lot prettier (and neater), and said buildings have found new life, even if it's fragmented, cut down, and shipped away.

Old lumber lying around? That's no longer good-bye—it's good buy.

Foremost on my Mind: Name of the Game

If you ever looked up “athlete” in the dictionary, you would never see my name or face there. Even at high school I was never “lettered,” as it were, unless you consider “C-” a letter. No, if I ever made a career out of any sports enterprise, it would be somewhere in administration, say, an assistant general manager, maybe even a colour commentator.

The dream job, for me, would to be working somewhere in the Canadian Hockey League in the front office, unless it was in someplace that rhymed with Prince Albert. While I know next to nothing about the game as a player, I do know a few things about administration.

And within that jurisdiction, there would be two tasks at hand: One, putting a quality product on the ice; and two, putting quantitative seats on the seats. Uh, that means good-sized crowds, not good-sized derrieres. (And Maurice, that would actually include the rest of the body, too.)

I have always had a flair for team colours, logos, and names—observing them, designing them, or, as in today's column, assessing them. It never fails to amaze me that so many teams choose black as a road colour, or red, white and blue as the overall all colour combination. It has baffled me for years why there isn't more burgundy, gold, silver, and green in the mix. Even certain shades of brown would look good.

In addition to colours, logos are a hot topic for discussion. Generally, there is some history for the logo style of most teams, which is meaningful, though too many CHL teams have very lame logos. (Adds a twist to the term “ugly history.”) A good rule of thumb is as follows: The higher the ranking teams (read = the more professional), the classier the logo.

Take the Canucks...please. Some of their logos over the years have ranged from stupid to okay to classy. The multi-coloured “V” would fall into the stupid category, the present orca leaping out of the styled “C” is okay, and the hockey rink, with the inverted stick, is classy—at least in my opinion.

But it's the team names that I want to direct your thoughts to. I haven't done a poll, but I suspect that names like Eagles and Lions are the most popular at any level. And only in the Canadian Football League would you have found two out of eight teams carrying the same moniker—the Saskatchewan Roughriders and the (now-defunct) Ottawa Rough Riders. The latter has re-invented itself as the RedBlacks—a name that I just hope has some historical meaning to it.

Teams that live in regions with some cultural tradition often have a particular history behind the name. In the CFL, the Stampeders honour the Calgary Stampede; the Lions honoured a geographical outcropping on Vancouver's North Shore (I kid you not); and the Ti-cats are an amalgam of two semi-professional teams from the area.

Only the Lord above knows what Argonauts have to do with Toronto, or Eskimos with Edmonton.

Hockey seems to be very sensitive to the cost of tradition--or would it be tradition of cost? What's so “Flames” about Calgary, unless it was cheaper to keep the name when they moved from Atlanta? Canucks, as you well know, is imbued with Canadian history. (Maurice, Canuck is to Canada as Yankee is to the USA) And still on the Canadian angle, the Toronto Maple Laughs, er, Male Leafs, are truly as Canadian as they come--even if it's in name only.

Montreal Canadiens are either bad spellers or good historians, in their quest to keep the French tradition alive. Even their nickname, the “Habs,” comes from the term les Habitants, something you learned in your Grade 8 Socials class.

I can live with the Hurricanes and Lightning, regional realities in the the Carolinas and Florida, respectively. And Capitols and Senators have political angles the respective nations. However, where the Bruins, Flyers, Devils, and Rangers fit into this discussion, I cannot say.

I understand why no team I know of is called the Worms, the Rats, or the Chickens, though you might be surprised at the positive athletic qualities worms, rats, and chickens possess. Where I'm baffled is why there are not more Wolverines, Wolves, Badgers, and Cheetahs.

In the meantime, I am starting a petition to re-name the Calgary Flames: I think Lames or Dames would be a more appropriate fit.