HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2016-07-07, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JULY 7, 2016. PAGE 5.
Other Views
Times have changed, untied we stand
Jn 1668, a platoon of mounted Croatian
cowboys thundered into France. They
were actually mercenaries working for the
king of Austria, so what they were doing in
France was a bit of a mystery. They didn't
attack or invade anything. What they mostly
did was drink prodigiously, flirt with les
femmes and ride their horses up and down les
rues.
When the Croatians finally galloped away
the French didn't remember a whole lot about
them, aside from the fact that they were
decidedly dashing, good tippers...Oh, yes —
and they wore these long weird scarves
knotted about their necks. The French dubbed
the scarves cravats after the Croats who
popularized them.
Thus the necktie, that most accursed of male
fashion accoutrements, was born.
Men had worn things around their necks
before -- but always for a reason. Roman
legionnaires wrapped water -soaked scarves
about their gullets in order to cool off and
I'm betting your typical Cro-Magnon man -
about -cave was not averse to draping an
expired weasel or wombat around his neck
to ward off the chill, but the Croatian
necktie marks the first time men chose
to wear decorative neckwear just for the hell of
it. Neckwear that was goofy -looking,
potentially lethal, decidedly uncomfortable
and performed no useful function
whatsoever.
French males, with their penchant for
foppery, gobbled it up, and in no time,
style -conscious males were lashing scraps of
cloth around their throats in increasingly
bizarre configurations. Soon the fad had leapt
the channel to England, where eventually
ham-fisted teenage boys would be expected
as a matter of course to master the Windsor,
the Half -Windsor, the Cavendish, the
Ascot, the Four -in -Hand and the aptly named
Pratt.
And then there's the bowtie. The late Pierre
Berton favoured bow ties — as does otherwise
sane and sentient Michael Enright, host of
CBC Radio's Sunday Morning.
God knows why. I have never been able to
look at a grown man wearing a bowtie without
suppressing a giggle. Bow ties deserve to be
accessorized with vinyl pocket protectors and
beanies with propellers. But why single out
bow ties for derision? All neckties are
abidingly stupid.
Looks like men have finally figured that out.
Only six per cent of male working stiffs now
throttle themselves with a necktie each
working day. Also of note: the Men's Dress
Furnishings Association of North America,
which represents necktie manufacturers across
the continent, has announced that it is
disbanding. Cancelled due to lack of interest.
Oh! I just thought of another celebrity who
favours bow ties: Donald Duck.
The Defence rests.
Petrified, terrified and scared silly
While I've made no effort to hide the
fact that being a father scares me, it
didn't really set in until
approximately 10 p.m. on Sunday evening.
That may sound overly specific, however I
can explain why I'm able to pin -point the
moment that being a father stopped being
some foreign, scary concept to me and became
an all -too -real terrifying concept with such
accuracy.
To be clear, I say terrifying not at all like I
would say that war or a scary movie is
terrifying but like fair rides can be terrifying.
It's going to be scary, but it's going to be the
kind of scary that you look forward to, that you
anticipate with happiness. It's like going to
some amusement park and patiently waiting
while you are pulled to the first drop in a roller
coaster; sure, it's going to make your stomach
do flip-flops and probably result in some
nausea, but it's fun and you're actually
somewhat sad when the ride is over.
I know I've written before about how I think
I'll be able to handle this and, in truth, that
hasn't changed I think I'll be able to handle it
because I have to. That hasn't changed, but, as
with any life -changing event, as the reality
creeps closer, the change seems more
daunting.
So, back to 10 p.m. on Sunday evening, or
where that particular story began, Friday
morning.
While some people spent Canada Day
enjoying the great outdoors that our nation
offers, I enjoyed working with my father to
finish painting my wife's former office.
I say my wife's former office because,
honestly, up until Sunday night, that's what it
was. It was this room that had been her office
and that name never changed. We called it the
office even when it was a storage room, a room
with a leaky ceiling and a room covered in
drywall dust. The nickname of "the office",
just kind of stuck. It was also a name that I
could say without having to come face to face
with the fact that I'm going to have to be
responsible for another person's well-being.
Now, however, it's a nursery.
I'll be honest — I've said that word a few
times when describing the fixing of the ceiling,
the replacing of the drywall and the eventual
painting of the room, however, the words were
just that, words.
They had no meaning to them until Sunday
night at 10 p.m.
Denny
Scott
IligieL Denny's Den
After Ashleigh got home from work on
Sunday, the painting, cleaning and repair jobs
were finished so there was nothing left to do
but move and put together the furniture which,
up until that point, had all been hidden away
behind cardboard boxes.
Up until last night, those boxes were just
large cardboard intrusions on my life.
The bed was a tall, skinny box that I had to
be careful of every time I walked past it while
the dresser was a large box on which I kept
bashing my toe.
Other things, like the stroller, the swing, the
high chair and even the bassinet, which sits in
our bedroom awaiting its first use, flew under
my radar. They were there, but they were akin
to clutter that I knew I would have to move
once the nursery was complete.
In essence — I was surrounded by the reality
that my life was about to change but,
somehow, looked right past it.
Not seeing those things for what they are,
however, was about to change.
I grabbed a knife, a pair of scissors, some
screwdrivers and, under the direction of my
white -hard-hat wearing wife, started to
assemble and unpack the crib, the dresser, the
swings and chairs and the blanket rack.
It wasn't an overly -taxing job. Like most
furniture, it was a matter of using the provided
hex keys to tighten up bolts that all go into pre-
drilled holes. The most laborious part was
likely having to hand -screw the anti -tipping
device on the dresser into the wall.
Within a matter of two hours, the crib was
set up, the dresser was filled with clothes and
various diaper necessities, the toys and various
baby apparatuses were spaced throughout the
room and, as a final touch, the curtains were
put back on the wall.
We shut off the light, closed the door (after
all, I want the baby to be the first to sleep in the
new crib, not the cats) and went about getting
the rest of the house cleaned up.
We cut up the cardboard, bagged up the
styrofoam packing materials and cleaned up
the house (a bit, there is still a lot more to do
to un -clutter the house, specifically on my
behalf, because of the change in priorities).
Then, we called it a day.
This was approximately 9 p.m. I fell asleep
shortly after while trying to read a book.
About an hour later Ashleigh roused me
from my sleep and I went to let the dog out
before trying to escape back into dreamland.
I walked through the house and let Mikayla
out, then ushered her back into the living room
for the night when I decided to take one last
look at the room, at approximately 10 p.m.
That was when these objects that have been
at my house for months, in some cases, began
to actually take form.
There wasn't an assortment of cardboard
boxes throughout the room — there was a
nursery there.
The crib had toys placed on it, the dresser
had a changing station on top of it and blankets
were draped carefully over the blanket rack.
I wasn't looking into an office or a storage
room or a place with a leaky ceiling, I was
looking into the place where my child will lay
his or her head down and sleep someday (not
someday soon, I'm told that sleep isn't in a
newborn's plans).
It took my breath away.
Whenever anyone asked me about the
pending changing of my life over the past few
months, I've said the same thing: I'm
terrified — and I wasn't lying.
I'm not exactly a shining example of
responsibility. I work to deadline, as most
journalists do. I put off medical, dental and
vision care appointments far longer than I ever
should. I misplace my keys, cell phone and
wallet at least four times a week. While I have
recently started trying to eat more healthily, I
have been known to consider half a bag of
chips a good meal replacement.
In short, I often have trouble taking care of
my own needs and wants and in the very near
future I'm going to be responsible for another
life. A life that can't take care of itself for quite
awhile.
However, seeing that room (and from
dealing with my friends and even watching my
younger siblings growing up) has changed the
answer to how I'm doing with the change.
Now, I'm still terrified, but in more of a
nervous way — I'm at the top of that first hill on
the roller coaster and just waiting the first
drop. I'm terrified, but I know it will be great.
Shawn
111
Loughlin
Shawn's Sense
A culinary county
Nothing gives you a true appreciation
for the bounty of Huron County
(which is a rhyming term I'm pretty
sure I stole from a future Brussels Fall Fair
theme) than having a full plate of food slid in
front of you at a community supper.
What's accomplished at these meals goes
beyond the county's food bounty as well. The
classic country supper really shows off all that
the county has to offer: community,
fellowship, good times and, of course, great
food.
My mom was up for a visit last weekend and
I was able to feed her two nights in a row
without having to life a finger (unless, I guess,
you count having to grab for my car keys).
First we took in the Canada Day fish fry at the
Brussels Legion (taking a break from hours
four and five of the Toronto Blue Jays'
marathon Canada Day game) and the next day
we were in Belgrave for roast beef courtesy of
the Kinsman and those behind the East
Wawanosh 150th celebration slated for next
year.
I said it was too bad there wasn't a breakfast
for us to attend on Sunday, only to find out
after the fact that the Central Huron Fire
Department in Clinton was hosting its annual
breakfast. So there was an opportunity missed.
Back to my point — there is a special aspect
to these events and a homecooked meal is only
part of it.
Jess and I saw many people we knew from
one corner of our lives or another. We were
able to catch up with many of them, whether it
be a quick chat as we passed by one another, or
a longer conversation if we happened to sit at
the same table while we ate. These community
suppers are a real who's who of the area and I
think that has to be most of the appeal.
As a Huron County resident, you're
guaranteed to encounter smiling, friendly faces
at these suppers, which is perfect, because no
one likes eating alone.
Of course, the experience was a little
different for my mom. She didn't know too
many people, but we introduced her to
everybody and everyone I knew at either event
was kind enough to lie and tell her how great
of a guy I am (I knew I could count on you all).
It's a different world in Huron County. I've
been hearing people say that for almost 10
years now and I've always known it to be true.
But as the years go on, my understanding of
that statement has evolved. It's never become
more or less true, it's just changed and been
true in different ways.
It's a great lifestyle we're lucky enough to
lead here and the food is only the beginning —
although, I can't say enough good things about
it.
Whether it's local markets, farmers' markets,
farmgate stores or a table with a margarine jar
for your change, we are certainly lucky to have
the bounty we have here in Huron County.
We know who brings us our food, we know
who prepares it for us and very often we know
who we'll be sitting with when we enjoy the
finished product.
Not everyone is that lucky, and perhaps we
take it for granted sometimes.
Huron County has a fan in my mom. She
loves the people, she loves the community and
she loves the atmosphere — and she certainly
loves the food.
It's a testament to this area and its people
that they can win over someone so quickly and
so completely and all it took was some fish,
some roast beef and a few scoops of coleslaw.