HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2009-02-12, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2009. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
In the driver’s seat
You down in the dumps? Burned out?
PO’d and KO’d by the Long-Time-
No-Sunshine Blues (also known as
Seasonal Affective Disorder and/or Living
Through a Canadian Winter)?
I can help.
I know how to make you feel better almost
instantly – and it doesn’t involve diet, exercise,
prayer, shaving your head or ingestion of
drugs, prescription or otherwise. All you have
to do is respond in a positive way to the
following mantra:
WRITE THE #@*%ING LETTER
You know the letter I mean. The one you
should have written months – maybe years –
ago. The one you’ve been putting off because
the time’s not right or you’re ‘way too busy or
you can’t find any decent paper, or, or…
It’s just too hard.
Solution? Sit down and write it. Today.
Now. You’ll feel better, I guarantee it.
And that’s not just me talking off the top of
my head. Steven Toepfer, a professor at Kent
State University recently conducted a study
into what makes people feel genuinely happy.
He had a hunch the solution would involve
gratitude, so he instructed his students to write
one letter every two weeks to someone –
anyone – who had had a positive influence on
their lives.
The only guidelines were that the letters had
to be positive, had to include some insight or
reflection (in other words, not sappy or
superficial) and they had to say, in a big way
Thank You Very Much.
That’s when the second part of the study
kicked in. Professor Toepfer’s students were
asked to assess their own mood and general
satisfaction with life, right after each letter was
written.
The results were remarkable. Every student
reported increased levels of happiness after
completing their assignment. Three-quarters
of them volunteered that they would keep
writing letters to people that mattered, even
after the study was completed.
Professor Toepfer wasn’t altogether
surprised. “We’re all walking around with an
amazing resource: gratitude”, he says.“It helps
us express and enjoy, appreciate, be thankful
and satisfied with a little effort. We all have it,
and we need to use it to improve our quality of
life.”
Amen to that. I don’t know about you, but
I’ve got a Santa’s sack worth of letters that are
long overdue. To my parents, for starters
(moved on, alas. No forwarding address). To
a couple of old lovers, many old friends and
more than a few enemies (as Dylan wrote, ‘the
cause was there, before we came’).
I owe at least a grateful postcard to that
bouncer in the Yellowknife bar who let me
know by the subtlest of eye contact and a
certain squaring of his shoulders that it would
be really wise of me to shut my yap, find my
coat and make an early night of it. And of
course I owe a letter to Mister Nicholls.
My Grade 11 English teacher. A large, sweet
man who loved Shakespeare and tolerated,
with pained grace, the unlettered barbarian
hordes who slouched into his classroom.
If I distinguished myself under Mister
Nicholls’s tutelage, it was through wisecracks,
spitballs, rude noises and crude snickers.
I was, not to put too fine a point on it, a
jerk.
Mister Nicholls ignored me. Then one day,
he handed back an essay assignment.
I can still see his note in the margin, written
in spidery red ball-point: “You certainly have
a fine natural ability as a writer,” it said.
News to me. I was the class screw-up.
Useless at everything from geometry to
gymnastics; from social studies to science.
The caption under my photo in the school
yearbook read ‘Most Likely To Do Time’.
But Mister Nicholls’marginal comment was
my tipping point. It tilted me toward a life of
writing.
Today, I can look back on 12 books, a career
in radio, two television shows and 30-plus
years of writing this newspaper column
and say: “It was all my English teacher’s
fault.”
So Mister Nicholls whether you’re still with
us on earth or expounding on the looniness of
Lear in some celestial lecture hall – a heartfelt
Thank You.
And yes, I feel better already.
Arthur
Black
Other Views Just write the #@*%ing letter
Ontario’s economy is going down the
drain and Premier Dalton McGuinty
and his Liberal government could go
down with it.
This may seem a harsh verdict, but there is
evidence those who govern in recessions
suffer and even get kicked out when the
province’s economy plunges into deep trouble,
as it has now, whether they are responsible or
not.
It may seem extreme even to think of
McGuinty soon being given his marching
orders, because until a few weeks ago he was
enjoying the easiest ride a premier has had in
decades.
McGuinty won a second successive majority
in 2007 and the opposition parties since have
been almost neutered. Progressive
Conservative leader John Tory lost that
election because he had an unpopular ambition
to expand provincial funding to more religious
schools and this will be held against him in the
next election and the Liberals will make sure it
is.
The New Democrats have not been even a
slight threat since the early 1990s and are
picking a new leader amid little enthusiasm
they can influence events soon.
McGuinty cannot be blamed for the current
recession, which started when greedy,
unregulated financial institutions in the United
States coaxed many to buy homes they could
not afford and prompted a collapse of
confidence in business around the world.
But look at what happened, first, to Liberal
premier David Peterson in a recession in 1990.
Peterson had many problems when he called
an election, including calling it after only three
instead of the customary four years.
Peterson said he needed it to renew his
mandate to negotiate changes in the
Constitution, although this was an issue in
which Ontarians had lost most of the slight
interest they previously had, because of lack of
progress.
Peterson did not mention a recession was on
the way. The closest he came was noting
Ontario industries increasingly were facing
tough competition from the United States and
around the world.
But plants in Ontario were starting to close
or move to the United States or Mexico, where
labour costs less and employers could operate
with less supervision by government.
Unemployment was beginning to rise and
surveys showed confidence among consumers
dropping sharply and Peterson played this
down.
But news media began suggesting a
recession was on its way and it became clear
Peterson had called this election early hoping
to get it over before it took hold and became a
major issue.
Peterson could not be accused of causing the
recession, because it was shaping up in other
jurisdictions. But his government clearly
recognized it would be hurt if Ontarians had to
vote while the recession was uppermost in
voters’ minds
Peterson also confirmed the recession had
arrived by promising to cut the provincial sales
tax to save jobs, not an action a government
takes lightly.
Peterson lost the election and his seat in the
legislature. It ended his career in politics and
underlined that a party that governs during a
recession has difficulty persuading voters to
keep it.
By the time Peterson’s successor as premier,
New Democrat Bob Rae, took over, the
recession had a solid grip and, whatever else
people blamed him for, he could not be
considered its cause.
Rae had to struggle to maintain needed
services and ran annual budget deficits as high
as $10 billion. But few gave him any credit for
coping in a recession.
Rae, throughout his premiership, was
identified with the recession he never started
through such acts as newspapers publishing
drawings of empty factories and lamenting
this was what Rae had done to Ontario.
Rae’s popularity fell so low he delayed
calling an election until his party had been in
power for five years, hoping for some last-
minute reprieve. But it never came and when
he was forced to hold a vote, his party was
decimated.
McGuinty can be forgiven if he worries that
what happened to others who governed during
a recession could happen to him.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
With a twist of sardonicism and a
dollop of humour the homespun
wisdom was dished out to the
village’s newest arrival.
“Don’t believe what you hear in this town,
until you’ve heard it three times. Then you
know it’s true.”
While this sage advice was delivered by a
long-time resident with tongue firmly in cheek
I’ve found myself coming back to it as an
informal guideline when dealing with small-
town gossip and views. Therefore, when three
different people, from three different directions
over the course of a few days tagged me with
the same label I couldn’t ignore the co-
incidence. Nor could I ignore the probability of
accuracy.
To be truthful, the observation came as no
surprise; it was just that I had fooled myself
into believing no one else had noticed.
I am a control freak. I know it. I’ve always
known it. But as there seem to be some
derogatory connotations attached to the handle
I had hoped my freakishness was a secret to
everyone else. I’m not one of the most obvious
offenders, but apparently neither were my
tendencies as subtle as I’d imagined.
It was after the birth of my first child when I
recognized how important it was to me to
maintain order, and that the best way to do this
was to control what was happening in my own
world. To achieve this, I put my poor little babe
on a rigid schedule that worked beautifully.
Beautifully that is until anything came along
to disrupt it. And we all know that never
happens in life! When it did, the chaos it
created was far more distressing than a less
structured approach to child rearing would
have been. Though you might assume I learned
my lesson, the reality is that a need to be in
control, or at least feel so, seems to be in my
DNA.
And I have to say even now that when it
works my life couldn’t be better. But, there are
often some seriously rough seas ahead if I’m
forced to go with the flow.
This became especially evident in middle
age. Then I noticed that even the mundane
could send a ripple through still waters. Add
those to life’s tidal waves and it was more often
than not my need to control was controlling
me. Rather than feeling relaxed because all
was in order, I was stressed because too many
outside factors were steering my plans off
course.
I was reminded about the folly of my ways
during a recent conversation. The person I was
speaking with pointed out that life is a lot
easier when you accept it at its capricious best.
Full of surprise, whimsy and a sense of humour
life dishes out diversity and frequently delights
in veering off course. There is no structure, no
assumption of direction or notion. It lobs the
proverbial curve ball with relish and
recommends you react with alacrity.
Striving to control every scenario that comes
your way is, as a result, simply setting one’s
self up for failure.
But, all of that notwithstanding, people are
what they are and for many the need to sustain
some kind of order and control in life is
ingrained. Nothing will change it.
So to my fellow controllers, it’s not about
never calling the shots, it’s about accepting
there are things that won’t, or can’t be
manipulated. When they arise, take a few deep
breaths and ride them out. After all, even for
folks like us, it can be relaxing to get out of the
driver’s seat once in a while.
McGuinty could join the jobless
Letters Policy
The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor.
Letters must be signed and should
include a daytime telephone number for the
purpose of verification only. Letters that are
not signed will not be printed.
Submissions may be edited for length,
clarity and content, using fair comment as
our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right
to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair
bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As
well, letters can only be printed as space
allows. Please keep your letters brief and
concise.
He who is taught to live upon little owes
more to his father’s wisdom than he who
has a great deal left him does to his father’s
care.
– William Penn
Final Thought