HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2010-02-04, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2010. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
F eature this: a 30-something Canadian
nondescript male toting a backpack
lines up to go through security at
Vancouver airport. His boarding pass indicates
he’s heading for Toronto. He plops his
backpack on the conveyor belt as instructed,
walks through the scanner and prepares to
retrieve his bag on the other side.
But his backpack isn’t coming through.
Instead the guy at the controls is staring bug-
eyed, waving his colleagues over to look at the
X-ray image on the screen.
In no time an Airport Security team, flanked
by a couple of Mounties shows up and escorts
the nondescript would-be passenger to The
Little Room.
They have one question for the guy.
Why is there a loaded, .38-calibre Smith and
Wesson revolver and extra rounds of
ammunition in his backpack?
I have a larger question for him: what the
hell was he thinking?
Is it possible that in this Post 911, would-be
shoe bomber and underachieving underpants
detonator era, someone still exists who’s dumb
enough to think he could carry a loaded
handgun in his carry-on luggage on to an
airplane?
A police .38 Smith and Wesson is as long as
a shoe and weighs a couple of pounds – you’re
not going to ‘overlook’it while you’re packing
and it’s difficult to mistake it for a toothbrush.
And those vigilant minions at airport
security are positively percolating with
paranoia these days. They’re confiscating
everything from nose-hair tweezers to bobby
pins.
Last month airport security goons in Ottawa
made headlines by forcing an 85-year old
silver-haired grandmother – four foot-10, 90
pounds soaking wet, suffering from
osteoporosis and answering to ‘Cynthia’ – to
take off her shoes, unzip her pants and submit
to a belly prod from an ‘inspection officer’.
Terrorist? No.
Terrorized? Definitely.
In Minneapolis, a bomb-sniffing dog found
a piece of luggage he didn’t like. False alarm.
Nevertheless, part of the terminal was
evacuated.
In Portland, a Maui-bound flight returned to
earth after an overly-liquefied passenger
turned surly and obnoxious. The airport in
Bakersfield, California was shut down after
authorities discovered a ‘suspicious substance’
in a jar in someone’s carry-on luggage.
It was buckwheat honey.
And this guy tries to board with a .38 calibre
revolver in his backpack?
If it’s any consolation, he’s not the only idiot
attempting to fly the not-so-friendly skies
these days.
Mansur Mohammad Assad, a passenger on a
Northwest Airways jet bound for Ohio,
happened to casually mention that he wanted
“to kill all the Jews”. That entitled Assad and
his 230 fellow passengers to a mid-air U turn
and a quick descent back to Miami airport,
escorted by two F-15 fighter jets.
Then there was the 42-year-old German
dummkopf who was flying with his wife and
kids out of Stuttgart last month, heading for a
vacation in Egypt.
Why not, he apparently thought, have a bit
of sport with airport security personnel?
“I have explosives in my underwear,” he
wittily informed the fraulein wafting the wand.
After they called off the Alsatian attack
dogs, let him up off the floor, strip-searched
and interrogated him for several hours and
thoroughly examined his non-incendiary
gotchies, the German airport authorities
informed the jokester that not only would he
and his family not be flying to Egypt (or
anywhere else), they also would not be
refunded the cost of their cancelled tickets and
would in fact, be assessed a thousand-
dollar fine plus costs for the entire police
operation.
Those airport security people – no sense of
humour.
The courts aren’t a barrel of laughs these
days either. That doofus who tried to fly from
Vancouver to Toronto with a pistol in his
backpack? He’s doing 39 months in the
slammer.
There are two lessons to be learned from
these current in-flight follies. Number one: If
you really have to travel somewhere consider a
cab, a bus, a train – hell, duct-tape a bedsheet
to your skateboard if you have to – anything
but submit to the horrors of commercial air
travel these days.
Number two: if you absolutely must fly
somewhere and you spot your old high school
buddy Jack Wilson ahead of you in the airport
security line-up…
Wave at him. Whistle, if you like.
Semaphore if you know how. Sing your high
school anthem if you must.
Just don’t yell out “Hi, Jack!”
Arthur
Black
Other Views Just be careful greeting Jack
The weekend has arrived and with it at
least a bit of free time to do all the
carefree, hedonistic activities that
exemplify a full and interesting social life.
The pacing and prancing of my full-
bladdered pooch wakes me on a Saturday
morning. A glance at the clock shows it to be
an acceptable hour rather than the one heralded
by the shrill scream of the weekday alarm.
Before me stretches a day that promises
nothing but entertainment at its best. My
honey’s away and this bee is buzzing with
anticipation. With no worries about fun ways
to fill leisure times being sympatico with
another’s, I had planned a wild and crazy time
for myself.
The first rule was that it was going to start
right away — no laundry, no dusting, no
baking, no way. Instead, breakfast finished I
grabbed a coffee and headed to my favourite
chair in my favourite room and spent the next
several hours lost in literature.
And I could have spent forever there.
However, not wanting to risk any suggestion
that I might be a dull person, I knew it was
essential that I put something a little more
exciting into the day. A trip to the mall was
clearly in order.
Arriving home late afternoon after a
satisfying round of shopping, I was just in time
for a private wine and cheese party
accompanied by a little soft jazz. Had it been
summer I would have slipped out onto the deck
for this madcap fun, but settled instead for
settling back into that favourite chair. There
with eyes closed I savoured the sensual
smoothness of some brie, a lovely pinot gris
and the inimitable Nat King Cole.
The sun left, my warrior returned and the
insanity continued as we both went out to
supper and to listen to some music.
Driving home before the clock turned the
midnight hour I chuckled as I thought how this
day would have seemed to some. There are
those who wouldn’t ever consider sitting still
in any way entertaining. From rising to retiring
they fill each and every hour with nothing less
than go, go, go. Otherwise how could it
possibly have been any fun?
I beg to differ. Some might suggest that I’ve
gotten old, or that I’m obviously just a boring
person. I however, strongly argue otherwise.
Let’s be honest. No matter what the age, a life
of go, go, go generally catches up to you. And
it isn’t just exhausting. It also doesn’t
guarantee you are any less boring.
Trust me, my friends, I can still party with
the best of them if I choose. But there has
always been a part of me, the person who has
never forgotten how nice it is to walk barefoot
in the grass, or stop the world long enough to
watch a Lake Huron sunset, or listen to the
drone, rustle and chirrup of a hazy summer
day.
Even my rambunctious teens weren’t all
about partying. I remember times when it was
enough, despite all the pent-up energy, to sit in
a secluded spot by the river, nature’s music the
background to easy chatter. My friends and I
would lie back and watch the clouds, pluck a
daisy, wiggle our toes in the water.
I remember long hours spent crosslegged on
my bed with book or journal. Or lying on a
blanket in the backyard, transistor dialed to
1050 CHUM, by my ear, feeling the golden
rays of sunshine on my skin.
And even as a teen, with all its twisted
emotions and immaturity, knew that all of
these moments enriched me.
Critics soothe consciences with praise
Enriched life
If all those who have lavished praise on
John Tory since he stopped running for
public office had expressed similar
admiration when he was running, the former
Ontario Progressive Conservative leader and
candidate for Toronto mayor would have had
one of the longest elected careers in the
province’s history.
To say this is not to lament that Tory failed
to get the praise he deserved when it mattered.
It is to merely point out many who assess
politics, including news media, vilify people
when they run, sometimes to promote their
own interests, but expect to be taken at face
value when they sing their praises, after their
careers are over and they no longer threaten
themselves and those they support.
Media in this city particularly have almost
elevated Tory to sainthood since he effectively
ended his hopes for an elected career in
politics by announcing he will not run again
for mayor.
He is 55, there will be no place for him in his
provincial party soon and he dropped so many
hints he would run for mayor he would not be
believable if he said it again.
Now that Tory has retired, The Toronto Star,
Canada’s biggest paper, has given its that
verdict he is intelligent, experienced, balanced
and competent and those who tagged him a
loser were unfair.
The Star could claim it praised Tory, when
he ran for leader in 2004 and called him the
Conservatives’ best choice. But this is a paper
that almost invariably supports the Liberals in
elections and whose primary aim in life is not
helping an opposing party choose a leader who
will beat them.
The Toronto Maple Leafs would have more
credibility suggesting who should coach the
Montreal Canadiens.
By the 2007 election, the Star was calling
Tory’s policies unreal and shoddy and good
reason for voters to keep Liberal Premier
Dalton McGuinty, which they did.
The paper later suggested Tory may be “the
best premier Ontario never had,” but this was
after he lost the election.
The Star said more recently Tory failed
provincially because he inherited a dying
party, bound by unwanted policies, and his
departure was a loss for the legislature, but
where was this friend when he needed it?
The Globe and Mail, which mostly has been
Conservative, said after Tory left respect for
him remained intact and he had been a worthy
champion of sensitive, conservative politics
and in many ways ideal leader, because he
entered political life out of concern for the
public.
But, when Tory was leader, it said he failed
to differentiate his party from the Liberals and
misunderstood the aspirations of Ontarians,
particularly by wanting to fund more religious
schools.
The Toronto Sun said it was sorry to see
Tory quitting, because he had great integrity
and may have been the best mayor Toronto
never had.
But when Tory was leader, the usually
Conservative newspaper often gave him
lukewarm support, feeling he was too
moderate.
This was even more true of the ultra right
wing National Post, which lamented “who will
stand up for fiscal responsibility?” after Tory
left, but previously felt he was too feeble a
conservative.
Politicians similarly are ready to praise
rivals after they have gone. George
Smitherman, the former deputy premier now
running for Toronto mayor, said after Tory
announced he would not run he had many
good qualities, but while he was Conservative
leader called him “chicken hearted” for
refusing to run in the legislature seat held by
Smitherman.
Bob Rae, then New Democrat leader, broke
a precedent by striding across the legislature
floor and declaring to retiring Conservative
premier William Davis “I want to shake your
hand,” although he rarely had a good word for
Davis before this.
Those who criticized politicians often soften
their stand when people retire, because they
want to appear magnanimous and open-
minded, and may even feel they are clearing
their consciences.
Sometimes they remember more the good
sides of those they criticized, but often they
merely are trying to make themselves feel
good.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
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