The Citizen, 2011-05-19, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, MAY 19, 2011. PAGE 5.
I have left orders to be awakened at any time
in case of national emergency.
Even if I’m in a cabinet meeting.
– Ronald Reagan
You get enough sleep last night?
Chances are you didn’t. One out of
every seven Canadian adults –
that’s 3.3 million of us – has trouble nodding
off or staying unconscious after lights
out.
It’s even grimmer in the United States. More
than 40 per cent of Americans wake up every
day feeling grumpy and sleep deprived – and
the experts at the U.S. National Sleep
Foundation think they know why.
A study conducted by the foundation
revealed that 95 per cent of the people polled
had used some sort of electronic device less
than an hour before bed. They’re not talking
about radios or stereos or even electric
toothbrushes. They’re zeroing in on light-
emitting gizmos like TVs, smartphones,
computers and video game players – devices
a foundation spokesman claims “can suppress
the sleep-promoting hormone melatonin”
and leave us staring goggled-eyed at the
ceiling, all psyched up with nowhere to go.
End result: a crummy sleep followed by a sub-
standard day.
The consequences are grim too. According
to the U.S. Center for Disease Control, ‘driver
fatigue’ causes upwards of 100,000 vehicle
crashes and 1,550 deaths in the U.S. every
year.
I spent a few months as a couch surfer
during my wayward youth. One of the places I
crashed at (but never for long) belonged to a
couple who owned three TVs and ran them
pretty well 24 hours a day. One of the sets was
in their bedroom and it stayed on all night. I
could see the gray-blue light leaking out under
their bedroom door and hear the murmur of
fitness shows, get-rich-quick ads and on-air
diet gurus droning through the early morning
hours. One evening I got brave and asked
them why they left their bedroom TV on all
night.
“Can’t sleep,” they said in unison.
It was a Homer Simpson moment, but I let it
pass.
It was also a valuable learning experience.
Aside from a clock with a luminous dial sitting
on a dresser against the far wall, our bedroom
is a technology-free zone. True, there’s a
bedside telephone but through some
mysterious and totally wonderful Ma Bell
quirk, the ringer – on that phone only – never
sounds. We can phone out, but we can’t hear
anyone trying to reach us. If you call me after
I’ve hit the sack, you’ll get a recording asking
you to leave a message at the tone.
And why not? How is it that we have come
to give these gadgets such control over our
lives? Why are so many people incapable of
having lunch in a restaurant, sitting on a park
bench or relaxing to enjoy a bus ride without
first checking in with their BlackBerry or iPod
to see if it’s okay for them to take a break?
I’m reminded of the story of Edgar Degas,
the French painter and sculptor. Degas, a
practising curmudgeon, had a friend named
Jean-Louis Forain who loved new technology.
Forain was one of the first citizens to have a
telephone installed in his home in Paris.
Hoping to impress Degas, he invited him over
for dinner, having arranged to have a friend
call the house while they were eating. They
were halfway through the first course when the
phone rang. Monsieur Forain leapt up to
answer it. When he returned to the table
smugly beaming Degas looked up from his
plate and grumbled: “So that is the telephone.
It rings, and you run.”
To paraphrase another well-known
Francophone, Ma Bell has no place in the
bedrooms of the nation. Neither does Sony,
Apple, Hewlett-Packard or RCA.
If you’re looking for a reasonably-priced,
non-electronic device that you can turn to at
bedtime which won’t interfere with sleep I can
recommend just the thing. It’s a database
recording system, but it’s non-light-emitting,
involves no dials or switches, takes no
batteries and never needs re-charging.
Nevertheless five minutes before bedtime with
this baby and you’ll be out like a light –
guaranteed.
It’s a book called The Collected Speeches of
Stephen Harper.
Arthur
Black
Other Views First turn off, then turn in
When I first saw the 2011 calendar and
I knew that we would be publishing
an issue of The Citizen on my
birthday, I knew it would be tough to resist the
temptation to write a column all about myself.
It’s true, 29 years ago on May 19 I was
brought into this world. Quite early in the
morning too, something my father rarely
misses an opportunity to remind me of with an
annual call at an hour far earlier than anyone
should be forced to rise on their birthday.
The setting was Scarborough General
Hospital and it was 6:45 a.m. and out I came;
feet first, of course, resulting in some tense
moments and an emergency Caesarean section.
I originally thought it would be interesting to
check out what kind of stuff was going on
around the world on that magical day in 1982.
A quick spin around the internet shows that not
a whole lot was going on. The world was pretty
dead that day apparently. Bummer.
May 19 is, however, always floating
somewhere around the Victoria Day long
weekend.
Birthday long weekend: Pretty great, right?
Well not in my younger years. My friends and
fellow students all had cottages, and Victoria
Day weekend is pretty much why cottages
exist in Canada, so a lot of early birthday
parties were sparsely attended to say the least.
So as I got older and traded loot bags for
boy-girl parties, things were bound to get
better, right? Well they did, but it was no
thanks to my school’s principal at the time.
Of course one of the best parts of having
your birthday on a weekday when you’re a kid
is having your birthday read to the entire
school over the announcements. I have
endured a lifetime of mispronunciation with
my last name. I have heard ‘Lowg-lin’, ‘Log-
lin’ and (inexplicably to me) ‘McLaughlin’
more than I care to admit, but there was one
birthday where my first name was absurdly
pronounced ‘Shannon’ on the announcements.
As you might imagine, this did wonders for a
shy young boy trying to find his way with the
lovely ladies of St. Anthony Daniel.
In subsequent years things have been
levelled out by some truly great birthday
celebrations. There have been trips to
Muskoka, trips to Niagara Falls and some great
parties with dozens of friends.
A definite highlight from the 28 previous
birthdays I’ve celebrated was a few years ago
when Jess orchestrated a surprise party for me.
I like to think of myself as an astute man, so
when I realized that I had been fooled so
spectacularly, it certainly was a strange feeling.
It was, however, great at the same time. To
have so many people willing to spend a night
with you on your birthday is pretty special.
Apparently it wasn’t easy. There was a Blue
Jays game I was pretty committed to going to
that night that I had to be talked out of and a
gas leak closed the bar where the party was
being held until about an hour before everyone
was due to be there, but in the end, against all
odds, it all worked out. And it turned out to be
one of the best nights of my life.
And as I’ve begun to take golfing more
seriously, the long weekend has proven to be a
perfect time to spend a serious amount of time
on the course with my buddies. That will be the
case this weekend with a weekend filled with
golf, barbecue and good times.
So while it may be true that May 19 and I
might have got off to a rocky start, I’ve grown
to anticipate it every year, with the possible
exception of next year. Turning 29 years and
12 months old might be a completely different
story.
29 and counting...
I’ve had this column bouncing around in
my head for years, ever since I wrote a
letter to the editor (of a different
newspaper) regarding the respect, or lack
thereof, that referees get.
Now for those of you who don’t know me to
see me, I’m not exactly an Olympic athlete
and if I switched my glasses lenses for coke
bottles, nobody would look twice.
The moral here is I’m far from physically
ideal for a job that requires running up and
down a field with people half my age for an
hour and a half, yet every week I don my cleats
and black regalia and take to a field as a
referee, an assistant referee or both.
What I’ve seen, in the last 14 or so years that
I’ve helped or refereed is a dramatic reduction
in a respect for the game and for those who
give up their time to be there.
A week and a day ago (from the day this
newspaper is printed) my brother called me up
at home.
Prior to the phone call, I was ecstatic – I was
sick and had no games to referee, no pictures
to take, just me and an excuse to lie on my
futon watching DVR’d episodes of Doctor
Who.
So, anyway, I get the call from my brother.
He’s in Blyth, and, due to a scheduling mix up,
there’s no referee on the pitch.
I sigh a heavy sigh, grab my gear and make
a bee-line for the field.
The game starts 15 minutes late and ends
five minutes early due to low-light conditions,
but the kids got to play almost 95 per cent of
the game.
It certainly wasn’t my proudest game, I was
hacking and wheezing and relying on the
assistance of someone who may have had
to up and leave at the drop of a button (or
the sound of a pager), but the kids got to
play.
Now, both coaches were informed it was my
brother’s team, and all of the players knew that
I had been called out to do the game.
Despite the fact that I had given up my night
of rest and relaxation, parents (unfortunately
from Blyth) were anything but respectful of
the game and myself.
This boggles my mind.
Now, if we were in hockey, this would be
commonplace, however, soccer is supposed to
be a “gentleperson’s” sport, to be completely
inclusive.
I won’t belabour the problems I had at that
game, suffice to say, I wasn’t impressed and I
expected better. I don’t mind players asking
me questions or voicing their opinions (in
moderation). This is a contest, it’s meant to be
competitive but fans need to remember their
role – silent unless encouraging.
At another match with other local players, a
game got downright dirty and physical and
resembled more of a hockey game than
anything else.
I wasn’t the lead on this game, I was just
assisting.
This game it wasn’t the fans causing a
problem, but the players themselves.
Many of them are what a refereeing mentor
of mine called hockey players who forgot
where they are.
Hip-checking, pushing, elbowing, body-
checking and otherwise impeding a player
with your body is illegal in the game of
soccer and grounds for a foul, or potentially a
card.
Now illegal doesn’t necessarily mean a
stoppage in play given the complex and unique
rules of the game, but it does show an
ignorance of the rules, or worse, disrespect for
them.
Players need to be reminded time and time
again that there are no boards, no ice underfoot
and no penalty boxes, if you get sent off the
pitch in soccer, you’re gone, there is no two-
minute time out.
And that has become a far more pressing
concern for coaches and referees alike with the
local minor soccer associations becoming part
of a more competitive league.
Red cards now carry a hefty punishment
with them – if a player is red carded they will
need to go to the league’s head office in
London and explain why they should be
allowed back on the pitch for future games.
It should make players more aware of their
indiscretion on the field, and make coaches
more aware of bad habits their players are
picking up, but it also makes it harder for a
referee to remove a player from a game
without serious consequences.
What it boils down to, however, is this.
Players talking back may find themselves
removed from the pitch for a significant
amount of time.
Players putting others in harm’s way may be
removed from the pitch for a significant
amount of time.
Parents disrespecting the rules or referees,
while primarily embarrassing their children in
my experience, may be asked to leave a game
by the home team’s coaches (as they are
responsible for fans on the pitch) and the game
won’t continue until they do.
Why, you may ask, the latter one? Well it’s a
lot to do with monkey-see, monkey-do.
My first job is to provide a safe playing
environment, my second is to provide a fun
one.
If players see fans disrespecting the referee,
they may think they can to. That leads to
yellow cards, which leads to red cards, which
leads to players facing much stiffer
consequences.
So remember, be you player, coach or fan,
the people on the field are giving up their time
to make sure there’s a safe place for kids to
play soccer, give them the respect they
deserve.
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den
Be kind to those who give up their time