The Citizen, 2011-09-29, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2011. PAGE 5.
T hat long frontier from the Atlantic to
the Pacific Ocean, guarded only by
neighbourly respect and honourable
obligations, is an example to every country
and a pattern for the future of the world.
– Winston Churchill
Ah, Sir Winston, thou shouldst be living at
this hour. You would have trouble recognizing
the Canadian-American border you so fondly
gushed over back in 1939. Respect? Honour?
It is to whimper brokenly. Here, in the Third
Millennium, that 5,000 mile-long ribbon
bristles with gun barrels, radar dishes, infra-
red sensors and legions of grim-jawed, gimlet-
eyed minions of America all squinting north
through binoculars. The mountains and
forests, the muskeg and grasslands that the
border runs through are now studded with
video monitors and night vision cameras. The
skies above are patrolled by camera-toting
drone aircraft. There are Yankee gunboats on
the Great Lakes.
Oh, you can still cross the border, Winston.
And if you don’t make a fuss about having to
remove your hat, your coat, your belt and your
shoes, or the confiscation of your toothpaste,
shampoo and tie clip, chances are you’ll be
spared the full-body-cavity probe. But
respect? Honourable obligation? Don’t hold
your breath. In fact, don’t do anything
to draw attention to yourself unless you
want to spend way too many hours answering
stupid questions in a tiny windowless
room.
It’s all to do with the 19 terrorist/hijackers
who tip-toed through America’s back door and
brought down the twin towers 10 years ago.
Americans – right up to the U.S. Secretary of
Homeland Security Attorney General – still
cling to the myth that they came across from
Canada. Not a single one of them did, but no
matter. The Yanks believe we’re a loose
musket turret on the battlements of Fortress
America and they’re determined that they
won’t be fooled again.
They’re looking for Taliban infiltrators, guns
and bombs. What they mostly find are Bic
lighters, toe nail clippers and Granny’s
knitting needles, but that doesn’t seem to faze
them. Maybe the fact that they haven’t had
much luck in 10 years is responsible for what
appears to be increased vigilance of late.
For example, if your kid finds a feather on
the beach and tries to take it through customs
you better hope it came out of a herring gull or
a Canada goose. If it’s an eagle feather and
you’re not a First Nations person heading
for a pow-wow, you needed to purchase a
permit for that feather. And your kid’s
allowance will not cover the fine you’re about
to receive.
Musicians are in jeopardy too. If you’re
thinking of going south with that old 1940s
Martin or Gibson acoustic guitar you picked
up in a pawn shop, think again. Chances are
the border guard is going to want to know a lot
more about your instrument than you can
possibly tell him. What’s it made of? How
about the fret board? The bridge? That nut that
the strings run through at the top of the fret
board – could that be ivory?
U.S. Customs doesn’t have to prove that
your guitar or mandolin or viola contains
illegal Brazilian rosewood, Madagascar ebony
or African ivory. You have to prove to them
that it doesn’t. And that means reams of
documentation and endless bureaucratic hoops
and barrels.
Didn’t do the paperwork? Sorry, Charlie.
Your instrument is confiscated. Forever.
Oh, and there’s a $250 fine for not having
the paperwork as well.
It would be funny if it wasn’t so absurd.
And costly. And cruel. Last year a piano dealer
in Atlanta, Georgia imported some antique
pianos from Europe. He asked officials at the
Convention on International Trade in
Endangered Species for assistance in filling
out the proper paperwork. Being paranoiacs,
the officials immediately flagged the guy for
‘special attention’ at the border. There was no
question that the importation was legitimate –
the pianos were old enough to be exempt from
the ivory ban – but the guy didn’t have his
paperwork in order.
He lost the pianos, was fined $17,500 and
received a sentence of three years probation.
“Paranoia runs deep. Into your life it will
creep.” Buffalo Springfield sang those lyrics
back in the 1960s.
They were ahead of their time. Reminds me
of the guy toting an elephant gun who was
stopped by the Toronto police one day on
Yonge Street. “What’s the gun for, mister?”
asked a cop.
“I’m shooting rogue elephants,” the guy
said.
“But there are no rogue elephants in
Toronto,” said the cop.
“Right” the guy said. “See what a great job
I’m doing?”
Arthur
Black
Other Views Welcome to the U.S.A. Now spread ’em
While covering last week’s all-
candidates meeting in Holmesville,
one thing was made abundantly
clear: wind turbines are still dominating
political discussion in Huron-Bruce and many
other surrounding communities.
It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was at my
usual Tuesday night gig, covering a Huron East
Council meeting in Seaforth when the room
was full of well over 100 people who were
angry about the prospect of industrial-sized
wind turbines being erected in their
community.
At the time, former editor Bonnie Gropp and
I didn’t know what to make of the presentation
and were on the verge of not covering it, as the
majority of the proposed St. Columban
development falls outside of The Citizen’s
coverage area. However, it is now two years
later and here we are with wind turbines on
centre stage and an election approaching.
There are groups on either side of the
argument. There is Wind Concerns Ontario of
course, and locally there are Huron East
Against Turbines and Central Huron Against
Turbines (HEAT and CHAT respectively) and
CHAT now even has a counterpoint in a pro-
turbine group calling itself Summerhill Against
CHAT (SAC). Liberal incumbent Carol
Mitchell says health studies have been done
and that turbines are safe, but many outspoken
residents feel not enough work has been done
and that the hopes and fears of communities
are falling by the wayside.
Whatever side of the argument you fall down
on, for God’s sake don’t tell anyone.
There are old rules about keeping friends.
Don’t talk religion, abortion, politics or money
with your friends and you’ll have friends for
life.
Well in many of Ontario’s rural areas, you
can add wind turbines to that list too. And with
the election creeping up, any political
gathering is becoming an excuse to vent about
wind turbines.
Walking into the meeting last week, Jess and
I saw signs protesting the Green Energy Act
and the wind turbines it brings with it.
The signs called for change and an end to the
so-called “dictatorship” that comes with green
energy under the current plan. Mitchell,
however, defended turbines at every turn,
speaking not only of phasing out Ontario’s
remaining two coal plants, but of the green
energy the Liberals have brought to the
province and the true economic development
the Green Energy Act has proven to be.
Those on either side of the fence seem to
have appetites that can’t be satisfied and the
issue has, in fact, turned neighbour against
neighbour in many circumstances.
So at a meeting when I heard grown adults
booing and yelling at each other (for the first
time outside of the aforementioned Huron East
Council meetings) it was wind turbines that
ignited this kind of raging fire inside of these
people. I swear, if this was decades ago,
tomatoes might have been hurled towards the
front of the room.
Seriously, at one point in the meeting,
another member of the Huron County
Federation of Agriculture, the host of the
meeting, passed a wooden gavel up to
moderator Marinus Bakker to keep order.
Thank God he didn’t have to use it, perhaps its
presence was enough to calm the masses.
No matter which side of the fence you’re on,
I’m sure you have never seen anything that can
incite this kind of anger. Hell, I certainly know
I haven’t and I used to work for Rogers
Communications.
Shooting the breeze
While this may seem a bit of a repeat
to some business people in the
community, I decided that it may
need to be brought up.
For the past few weeks I have been attending
Strategic Planning meetings hosted by North
Huron township as a reporter and also as a
citizen of the community.
I’ve attended two meetings in Blyth; one for
residents at large and one for business
stakeholders, and one in East Wawanosh for
local residents.
While there were many great ideas
generated at the meetings, I noticed a running
trend among the comments made by people
(and eventually spoke to the statements); I
don’t exist.
People said that North Huron (particularly
Blyth) wasn’t bringing young people either in
or back. Suffice to say, I looked at my hand
curiously, wondering if I was about to pull a
Marty McFly and have my extremities begin
to phase out of existence.
The fact is, I’m here. I have a job, nay, a
career here, I bought a home here, and I love
being here, and I’m sure I must not be the only
one.
I found a job in Blyth and then I moved to
Blyth and, regardless of the fact that all three
of my closest neighbours have either sold or
placed their house on the market, I believe I’m
not sticking out like a sore thumb.
While it is true my comfort in a small
community could be attributed to growing up
a stone’s throw away from said community in
Seaforth (and Goderich, and Egmondville, and
outside of Egmondville, and St. Josephs and...
let’s say I moved around a bit), I hope it’s
mainly because I try and be a responsible
member of the community; shopping local,
being as friendly as possible and keeping my
grass to a routine level (although the walnuts
are making that difficult right now).
I know that my roommates and close friends
from university have followed similar paths,
going where they can work.
They have found places where they could
ply their trades and make a comfortable living,
be it in communications field, as a lawyer, as a
teacher or in public relations, and lived there.
For some, it was a return home, for others it
was just another departure.
Whether they landed in Guelph, Brantford,
London (Ontario or England) or The Big
Smoke, they went where the job opportunities
were.
Despite the jeers that I face from having
once said I was a born-again city boy and
wouldn’t likely return home and now being as
steeped in Huron County as I can get, I have to
believe my friends see what I enjoy about my
community and what brought me back.
When I first moved out of Huron County, I
lived on the top floor of the tallest building in
downtown Brantford.
From my lofty perch I could see the lights of
the Brantford Casino 24 hours a day, I could
see the streets and the cars flowing regardless
of the hour.
It was intoxicating for someone whose idea
of a busy road was Highway 8 to see a four-
lane road right outside their window that had
traffic at least 23 hours a day.
The idea of being able to go anywhere and
do anything at any time of the day was
beautiful and intimidating, and one that I
never quite got used to.
Sure my roommates and I used to play
football in abandoned parking lots at all hours
of the night, and enjoy having the majority of
an entire grocery store to ourselves when we
did our 3 a.m. shopping trips, but I always got
the feeling I was missing something big.
It wasn’t until I took a job in Huron County,
promising myself that it wouldn’t be a lasting
situation, that I realized that big part of my life
that was missing.
It was the sky.
Despite having nothing to obstruct my view
on that fifth floor apartment in Brantford, I
couldn’t see the sky the way I can in here.
Here, I can look into the sky and admire the
stars. That’s nearly impossible to do in a city,
there’s just too much light. I’ve always
laughed about people saying you can’t see the
forest for the trees, but, in a city, you can’t see
the lights in the sky for the lights on the
ground. You’re just too close to admire the
sky’s beauty.
Anyway – the point here is that young
people can come to Huron County and try and
make a living and build a life.
I’m an example, as is my girlfriend, as is my
editor.
All we need are four things, of which, we
already have two; jobs, affordable non-senior-
only living arrangements, the friendly people
and the sky.
People will come for the jobs, for the low
cost of living (comparatively speaking) but
they will stay for the smiles and greetings on
the street and the stars in the sky.
I’m sure that, once I have my friends up a
few more times, they will fall in love with the
community, it just has that effect on people.
Wouldn’t it be great if there were the
opportunities necessary for them to become a
part of it?
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den
Jobs will bring youth to Huron