HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2013-02-28, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 2013. PAGE 5.
There are three cardinal rules I
try to follow in life:
1: Never argue with airport security
staff. (You won’t win and you might miss your
flight.)
2: Always answer ‘No’ to the question ‘Do
these slacks make my hips look big?’
3: Always answer your fan mail promptly.
Okay, the last one’s easy. When it comes to
fan mail I ain’t exactly Lady Gaga. It’s not like
I have to hire a fleet of secretaries to deal with
the cataracts of e-mails and letters flooding in,
but I do get some. And I do my very best to
answer it the same day. Why, you ask? Well,
I’m Canadian, eh? It’s the polite thing to do.
Recently, however, I learned an even more
compelling reason for responding quickly to
fan mail.
Justin Beiber.
Last month, police in New Mexico
announced that Dana Martin, a three-time
loser and convicted killer, had arranged – from
his jail cell – to pay associates to castrate
Justin Bieber with hedge clippers.
Interestingly, it was not the quality of
Bieber’s musical offerings that Martin
objected to, nor was it the pop star’s goofy hair
style.
It was the fact that Martin’s many fan letters
to the pop star had gone unanswered.
Because of the perceived snub,
Martin was reportedly prepared to pay
three hitmen $5,000 for delivery of ‘the
Bieber package’. Specifically, $2,500 per
testicle.
When it comes to answering fan mail, you
can’t be too careful. Or too prompt.
I worked in radio for many years and for
some of those years my fan mail reached me
with a curious time delay built in. I noticed
that the envelopes (this was before e-mail
times) all bore the inscription ‘forwarded’.
Turns out there was a gentleman in my
neighbourhood who bore the exceedingly
vulnerable monicker of ‘Athol Black’. Fans
(friendly and otherwise) would call Directory
Assistance to get my mailing address, the
operator would say “I have a Mister Athol
Black listed...” – and the fan would say “Yeah
– that’s the one I want! The ath hole who talks
on the radio alla time.”
Which raises the question: what to do with
crank mail?
For me it depends on the virulence level. If
someone writes to tell me that I’m an
inconsiderate, illiterate lazy slob who’s
ignorant, opinionated and about as funny as a
root canal, I write back acknowledging that
my next-door neighbours, my Grade 6 teacher,
my children and my wife whole-heartedly
concur. If, however, they write that I’m a
treasonous, illegitimate fascist who ought to
be castrated with hedge clippers, I write
back to say the RCMP have asked for a
home address so they can come over for a chat.
Happily, most fan mail is not so sulphurous
or mean-spirited. We are Canadians after all,
which means (outside of hockey arenas and
Normandy beaches) most of us are friendly,
generous and polite to a fault. That’s why
when people write to me, even to disagree with
something I’ve written, they usually do so in a
genteel and civilized manner. I appreciate that.
Over the years, many lively correspondences
and more than a few friendships have
blossomed because I faithfully answer my fan
mail.
As a matter of fact, this afternoon I’m off to
have coffee with someone I’ve never met who
contacted me by mail. We’ve arranged to meet
at a coffee shop downtown.
Mind you, if a stranger shows up lugging a
pair of hedge clippers, I’m going out the back
door.
Arthur
Black
Other Views Fan mail welcome; clipping not so much
Sunday night’s Oscars ceremony was full
of plenty of great moments, and plenty of
not-so-great moments, but for the
Canadians among us, it was a night to be proud
of our history.
As a proud Canadian, while I enjoy movies
and watching the Oscars year after year, I have
always felt pretty distanced from the whole
movie-making process. It is rare that there is
some sort of Canadian connection to a big
budget Hollywood film and if there is, it’s
usually pretty minor.
In fact, one thing that has always reminded
me about the size of the gap between Canada
and Hollywood has been when a Canadian film
gets nominated under the “Best Foreign
Language Film” category. A sharp, pointed
reminder that while we may share a friendly
border with our friends to the south, it remains
a border nonetheless.
Canada had its moment in the Oscar sun last
year when 82-year-old Canadian Christopher
Plummer won the Oscar for Best Supporting
Actor for his role in Beginners. But those
moments tend to be few and far between.
This year, however, Canada got a shout-out
from the director of the Best Picture of the
year, Ben Affleck who was behind the camera
for Argo. And Canada wasn’t thanked as a
location or for any other sideline reason. It was
thanked for a very real, very physical and very
political reason.
Argo, of course, tells the story of the covert
rescue operation of six Americans who had
been working at the American embassy in Iran,
but fled the embassy when it was overrun by
Islamist fundamentalists who were searching
out Americans to be held hostage. The
Americans were taken in by Canadian
Ambassador Ken Taylor and Canadian
Immigration Officer John Sheardown and
housed until an American exfiltration specialist
was flown into Iran, posing as a Canadian
scouting locations for a non-existant science-
fiction movie called Argo.
While Affleck’s film has been criticized for
its sensationalization of the events and historic
inaccuracies, one thing is clear: Canada came
up big when the Americans came knocking
that day in 1979.
The two men, Taylor and Sheardown, housed
the Americans at great risk to themselves as the
whole city of Tehran was looking for the group
of six embassy workers.
When the Americans returned home to the
United States, it was a Canadian lovefest south
of the border. Banners reading “Thank You
Canada” were everywhere after the lengthy
Iranian Hostage Crisis.
Behind the scenes, however, in an operation
later declassified by U.S. President Bill
Clinton, it was revealed to be a co-operative
mission between the U.S. and Canada that
saved the lives of the six Americans.
So when Affleck thanked Canada on Sunday
night, it was a true and honest show of thanks
that transcended film or the world of
entertainment.
On that same night, Life of Pi (a film based
on a novel by a Canadian author) director Ang
Lee thanked Canada, but he thanked his
Canadian crew. Something to be proud of,
sure, but it didn’t have quite the same impact of
Affleck’s gratitude.
So while it may not have been a Canadian
behind the camera while Argo was being
filmed, or the script may have not been penned
by a Canadian, it was a pair of Canadians who
saved six lives and helped to eventually get
them home; a great triumph for Canadians to
hang their hats on.
Canadian content
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
Sometimes I’m afraid of travelling
outside of Canada and venturing to new
and wonderful places because I’m
worried I might go hungry.
That may sound a little silly but I
have food allergies and am otherwise
sensitive to certain foodstuffs so not being
able to fluently express the fact that there
can’t be any seafood in my meal is a concern I
have.
Sure, during my trip to Montreal a couple
years back, I was pushing my comfort level,
but at least there were enough English signage
and English speaking people around me (even
if the people speaking it appeared to be
physically ill from having it in their mouths) to
get by.
If I were to go to somewhere like Greece or
Germany or Holland, I might be in a lot of
trouble.
There is, however, one place I’m never
worried about travelling to: Italy.
I know their sport, I know their beverages
and I know their food and that’s all
because a lot of it is very similar in English as
it is in Italian, some of it is easy to figure out
and some of it hasn’t even been translated at
all.
Pasta is pasta, lasagna is lasagne al forno,
wine is vino, water is acqua, pork is porco,
clam is mollusco, fish is pesci (one that I
would avoid due to allergies), seafood is frutti
di mare (which is very similar to the
French term for it: fruits de mer, and no matter
how you say it, it wouldn’t bode well for me),
pizza is pizza (and also pizza in French),
chicken is pollo... okay, maybe that one would
be tough.
However, on the whole, I’m sure I’d be able
to manage to keep myself fed, even if the only
things I could eat would be pasta, lasagna and
pizza chased with wine or water.
Maybe I would be difficult to converse with,
but I would certainly be able to walk into a
little ristorante and walk out with my hunger
and thirst sated.
The Office Quebecois de la langue francaise,
however, feels differently about the Italian
language.
The organization’s mandate is to monitor the
use of French and English in Quebec and make
sure Française is the predominantly used
language. The organization will make people
change signs to reflect the dual nature of
Quebec’s linguistic landscape and also,
apparently, focus on menus.
Currently the language watchdog is focusing
on Buoanotte, a restaurant in Montreal, for not
having French-language translations for, most
notably, the word pasta, but also other Italian
words on the menu.
According to reports, the restaurant has
words like pasta in the names of their dishes
(which are accompanied by a full description
in French).
Other words included bottiglia, an
Italian word which means bottle (the
French translation is bouteille) and calamari
(the French translation of which is
calamar).
This whole French language thing has
bothered me for years. I’m of the opinion
(in case you missed last week’s column) that
rules shouldn’t really be enforced the way they
are.
I’ve always been told rules prevent chaos,
but they don’t really. Rules give us a way of
knowing something is wrong. For most of us,
knowing that thing is wrong is enough to stop
us from doing what is wrong. For the rest of
the world (the small percentage that this is),
knowing what is wrong by societal’s standards
seems to be a dare.
I’ve often wondered why, in a place that is
predominantly French, we need people to
make sure that business is done in French.
According to a tertiary search, more than 80
per cent of people in Quebec claim French as
their native language.
It would seem to me that, if people felt their
language was being marginalized in some way,
they would stop patronizing the location.
For me, I won’t buy gas at certain places
because, and I could be wrong, I feel that the
fuel isn’t as effective there as the fuel offered
at other locations.
In a similar fashion, if a community finds
out someone’s cutting the quality of their
fuel to make an extra buck, the community
will stop buying its fuel there, the company
will either change its ways or go out of
business.
If people were truly offended by the lack of
a French translation of the word pasta (which,
for reference’s sake is pâtes), then they would
stop going to the restaurant and the restaurant
would have to manage to stay open with only
English (or Italian, I guess) speaking clientele.
Having an organization to slap the hands of
businesses seems counter-productive to the
consumer society that Canada, and yes
Quebec, has.
Take, for example, Goderich.
Recently the people of Goderich saw the
fruits of their decision when Kentucky Fried
Chicken and Pizza Hut closed down.
Now, maybe Pizza Hut or KFC in Goderich
were doing particularly well, maybe they
weren’t. Maybe they made money, maybe they
hemorrhaged it like cheese bursting out of a
four-cheese raviolo (which is raviolo in Italian
and French). Either way, the company that
owns both franchises saw that they weren’t
doing well and closed many of them across
Canada.
The same happened to Blockbuster.
People didn’t shop there, so they went under.
Since the restaurant is reportedly trendy, I
can only assume that the majority of people
aren’t bothered by the fact that Italian is used
in describing Italian dishes, so why do we
need a government-funded agency to say it
needs to change?
I say let companies run how they want
within the boundaries of criminal law. If they
cheat their customers, marginalize languages
or do other things to make them an unpalatable
place to shop, that will be reflected in their
bottom line and they will either change or fade
away, and all of it will cost less than paying
someone to tell people to spell things in
French.
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den
Pizza, pizza, pizza, what’s the difference?