HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2012-08-02, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 2, 2012. PAGE 5.
Doug Rochow is a certifiable good guy.
He’s the kind of citizen any
community would be proud to count
as one of theirs.
You’d think.
Each winter for years now, the Ottawa native
has routinely shouldered his snow shovel
every time it snows and waded into a nearby
public park to clear a path so that visitors can
get through in comfort and safety. He doesn’t
charge for his service; nor does he brag about
it. He does it so that people won’t slip, fall and
hurt themselves on uncleared paths.
The city of Ottawa has ordered him to cease
and desist. Why? The bureaucratic reasoning
is impeccable. If Doug Rochow clears paths
through the park, more citizens might be
encouraged to walk on them, thus increasing
the city’s exposure to lawsuits.
Hopefully the city bureaucrats won’t stop
there. They should erect a 10-foot fence
around the entire park perimeter patrolled by
security guards. For sure nobody would get
injured then.
It’s a shame Prime Minister Harper won’t
scuttle his King Canute-worthy scheme to
saddle us with $25 billion worth of U.S. F-35
fighter jets. He could divert a fraction of the
money saved to create a Department of
Common Sense. The new agency could be
tasked with torpedoing dumbass official
decisions like the one that deprived Doug
Rochow of his philanthropic pastime.
They could open a branch office in Edmon-
ton to address the school board that has
suspended high school teacher Lynden Dorval.
His crime: assigning a mark of ‘zero’ to students
who failed to complete their assignments.
Mister Dorval is an old-fashioned guy. He
actually believes that – and this is a quote –
“High school students are not little kids. It’s
time to become an adult and take responsibility
for your own actions.” How naïve is that?
The superintendent of the Edmonton School
Board (which is firing Dorval) explained to
reporters that students don’t get zeroes at Ross
Sheppard High School anymore. Instead, they
get a chance to ‘make up the work’. Whatever
that means.
Where does such disconnection from reality
end? I’m not sure but I know it made a pit stop
in Windsor, Ontario last year. Doreen Wallace,
an 82-year old woman who was visiting her
dying husband at the Greater Niagara General
Hospital slipped at the entrance and broke her
hip. Nasty turn of events – but at least she had
the good luck to fall in front of a hospital,
right?
Wrong. Hospital workers told her
companions that they’d have to phone for
paramedics and an ambulance to come and
“officially admit her”. For half an hour visitors
literally stepped over the grandmother as she
lay waiting, moaning, on the floor.
Viral insanity touched down in Elliot Lake
recently as well where, as the world learned to
its horror, the roof of a shopping mall
collapsed. The disaster was no surprise locally.
Elliot Lake residents had been making bets
among themselves as to when the leaky and
shoddily built structure would finally crumble.
Nobody took responsibility. Two people died.
It’s not just the Elliot Lake mall that’s poorly
built. How is it that the bureaucratic structures
we build to make our lives better so often turn
out to be worse than the problem they were
constructed to solve? The American critic
Brooks Atkinson once said. “Bureaucracies
are designed to perform public business. But
as soon as a bureaucracy is established, it
develops an autonomous spiritual life and
comes to regard the public as its enemy.”
U.S. President Harry Truman had a solution
to the problem. He had a sign on his desk that
read “The buck stops here.”
We need more people with the gonads to say
that.
Arthur
Black
Other Views Wanted: a department of sanity
The Olympics mean many different
things to many different people. To
most, they are the ultimate symbol of
unity around the world and they represent a
time where people from all over the world
come together and bond over the world’s
universal language: sport.
As I said, the Olympics mean different
things to different people. The Olympics don’t
scream the aforementioned sentence to me. To
me, they symbolize three weeks of nothing
being on T.V.
Yes, for three long weeks those five rings
will dominate the televised world, the radio
waves, the written word and everything else in
the world.
You have a television show you like
watching? That’s a shame. Even if the show
you like is not carried on one of the 7,000
channels that carries the Olympics, therefore
bumping it for three weeks, the other channels
tend to shut down for that three-week period
every two years, conceding defeat and not
wanting to make people choose between their
feeble little program and the mighty Olympics.
And it’s not that I have a big problem with
every sport in the Olympics (there are some
that I don’t mind watching) but you can
probably lump those into the running time of
your average movie that isn’t directed by Peter
Jackson. Not three full weeks of live coverage,
encore coverage, highlight packages and
analysis.
A lot of the other sports just seem strange to
me. Take, for instance, the first sport Canada
won a medal in last weekend: synchronized
three-metre springboard.
While I have no doubt that Jennifer Abel and
Emilie Heymans are very talented athletes, I
have to admit that I didn’t know this was a
sport before Sunday. I knew of diving of
course, but I didn’t know that if two people did
it at the same time, it was a different sport than
regular diving.
This three-week run of oddball sports (as far
as I’m concerned anyway) exists nowhere
outside of the Olympics.
For instance, I can’t say I’ve had my friends
over to watch the year’s annual synchronized
diving championships, or I can’t remember
ever getting up in the morning to make sure
I’m on Ticketmaster early enough to buy good
seats to fencing.
I have found myself a fan of many sports
over the years. I have followed a baseball team
through 162 games and then watched them in
the playoffs. I have watched baseball every
year since I was young, and I have developed a
history with it.
So when I turn on the Olympics only to be
introduced to yet another sport I didn’t know
existed four seconds earlier, I can’t pretend to
be sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to see
what happens. But because it’s the Olympics,
that seems to be how everyone expects me to
be. Sorry. It’s not going to happen.
And yes, before you ask, baseball has been
removed as an Olympic sport. Don’t ask me
who was in charge of that one, but it seems like
a bit of a silly decision to me.
So if you’re looking for me over the next few
weeks, which just happens to coincide with
The Citizen’s annual vacation time, I’ll be
wandering aimlessly trying to avoid the
Olympics and biding my time until the closing
ceremonies, which is another thing I don’t
need to get started on. Five hours of
interpretive dance and weird music at the
beginning and end of a sports competition just
sounds like torture to me.
See you on Aug. 13 when this is all over.
Three long weeks
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
For me, one of the best parts of starting a
new school year as a kid (and a young
one at that) was doing the inevitable
“How I spent my summer vacation” stories.
I always loved hearing people explain what
they did and picturing the great adventures
they went on; be it boating, skidooing, being
up in their parents’ planes or going to some
specialized summer camp.
My story was usually the same until I was
old enough to stay on my own: I went to my
cottage for a good portion of the summer.
As much as I may have griped and groaned
about the trips, I did always have a fondness
for the place. Never have I been anywhere else
where my imagination could run wild and I
could count the time I had often-sought
solitude in days, not minutes.
Anyway, with that in mind, I thought I might
reprise those school practices of old and tell
you how I spent my weekend because it felt
like it was an entire summer long.
July 27-29 marked the 140th Brussels
Homecoming and, while the rest of the world
may be focused on the Olympics or the August
long weekend, everyone around here was
excited for the celebration.
For me it meant a lot of work, but that work
didn’t feel much like it at all.
Friday night I watched, for the first time,
barrel racing at the Boothill Bash behind the
Optimists’ club house in Brussels.
For those of you keeping track, this is likely
a little odd since my girlfriend is into (what I
thought was) all things equine.
I found out quite quickly though that what
she does is English riding and that the events
at Boothill Bash are Western (or Cowboy)
riding.
So while watching didn’t give me the
common ground I thought it would, it certainly
proved entertaining, especially watching
celebrities like Huron-Bruce MPP Lisa
Thompson, saddle up, try and make her way
around the barrels and tip over two of the three
of the obstacles (but maintaining a smile the
entire time).
While I didn’t get the picture of a local
politician falling off the horse that I was
hoping for (because, let’s be honest, that’s the
kind of fun that is remembered for decades to
come provided no one gets hurt), it was still a
great experience.
Also on Friday night I meandered around
the Brussels Farmers’ Market snapping
pictures of the younguns getting their faces
painted and balloons made and also ended up
getting my picture taken for The Citizen’s
Brussels’ office great decorating job.
Ironically, or perhaps fittingly enough, this
came right after a speech in which
Homecoming Co-Chair Bob Richmond talked
about railroading people into assisting them.
(For reference sake, I had nothing to do with
the decorating and I certainly claim no
ownership over it.)
Saturday started early with pictures of
people making a scrumptious breakfast at the
Brussels United Church.
Following that, and spilling a large coffee all
over my semi-new car mats, I spent the day
travelling between events at the Boothill Bash
and Brussels’ downtown.
The soap box derby made for some amazing
photos of local youth trying to be the best of
the best and the volleyball tournament to
which I returned several times over the course
of the weekend, provided a great opportunity
to get shots of some people trying their hardest
to be the best and others trying their hardest
just to have a fun time.
I’d have to say that the volleyball and the
bath tub races (which I’ll get to soon) were
likely the two events that made me regret the
fact that I was working the weekend instead of
joining in.
What can I say, I’ve always loved boating
and volleyball is fun no matter what reason
you have to be on the court.
The match races at the Boothill Bash were
also a real treat to get to take photographs.
Whether the riders were neck and neck coming
to the finish line or there was a good distance
separating them, the intensity and speed of the
horses was enough to keep me entertained and,
judging by the cheering, the same could be
said of everyone else.
I had a great deal of fun enjoying the parade
and picking out the people I knew while trying
to get photos of all the great floats people had
put together for the event. I would have to say
that my favourite of the entire parade would be
the pipe bands. What can I say? When I hear a
bagpipe, all I can think is that it’s the sound of
the angels singing.
Sunday morning I had a bit of a later start,
taking in what I thought would be the early
risers for the car show. However, I found when
I got there that the early risers were the only
people who got on the street.
While there I heard stories of people being
shifted to side streets and other parking areas
because the car show had proven so popular
that there were more cars than there were
spots.
Next came the cattle sorting competition
which, thanks to earlier visits to local events, I
had an idea of what was happening. However
the excitement and the energy makes for a
fantastic competition.
After a quick stop at the multi-
denominational church service (which looked
to be very well attended) I was on my way
back across the river to wait for the bath tub
races.
The event was great and definitely amusing
as a saboteur, who shall remain nameless,
made his way out to the lake to start tripping
up the competition after the first and second
place crafts had passed the line.
After making a few more stops, including
the Tri-County baseball reunion, the pork chop
dinner at the Brussels, Morris and Grey
Community Centre, the Lions Club duck-race
turned draw and the all-cowboy awards at the
Boothill Bash, I made my way home, weary
but entertained.
Oh, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t say the
cowboy wrap and root beer float at Cinnamon
Jim’s were just what the doctor ordered for a
long day with a camera in hand.
From Pari... er Brussels with love
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den