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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2009-09-03, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2009. PAGE 5. Bonnie Gropp TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt All hockey players are bilingual. They speak English and profanity. Gordie Howe Here’s a fun experiment to try. Fill a big pail with ice water. Roll up your sleeve and dip your arm in up to your triceps. Say the first words that pop into your head (bad, right?) Now roll up your second sleeve and try the experiment with your other arm – only this time, when the shock of the cold threatens to shut down your heart, try substituting the word ‘handkerchief’ or ‘Ronald M dcdonald’ for the off-colour ones you used the first time. Believe it or not, that is the gist of a scientific experiment recently carried out at Keele University in England. Richard Stephens was the psychologist behind the test. He got the idea from his wife, when she was in labour delivering their first child. “Remember the breathing exercises, dear,” he murmured helpfully to his beloved as she lay on the delivery table.. “Stick the @$%&*ing breathing exercises up your &%#, you inconsiderate mother<*&%#ing chauvinist pig @*@%$#&er,” she growled. Hmmm, thought Professor Stephens, I think I feel an experiment coming on. He and his fellow researchers enlisted 64 volunteers. Rather than have them deliver babies, they were asked to submerge their arms in ice water for as long as they could. Half of them were encouraged to shout neutral words (like ‘eggplant’ or ‘dining room table’; the other half got to shout out the choicest swear words they could think of. The researchers were fairly certain that results would show that swearing had an adverse affect – in other words, uttering profanities would lessen volunteers’resistance to pain. They figured the very act of swearing would subconsciously exaggerate the severity of the pain, thus lowering tolerance. The researchers were dead wrong. What the experiment showed was that swearing actually works. The volunteers who resorted to their favourite blue-tinged epithets could keep their arms submerged up to 40 per cent longer than those who could only use emotionally uncharged words. The profanity-users also reported less pain and discomfort than the more polite participants. Makes sense when you think about it. Swearing has probably been around since some nameless Neanderthal fumbled his saber-toothed tiger haunch into the campfire and tried to fish it out with his bare hands. Swearing under stress is involuntary and it feels natural. Must be a good reason for it. “It (swearing) has certainly been around for centuries,” says Professor Stephens, “and is an almost universal human linguistic phenomenon.” The professor and his colleagues theorize that swearing elevates the heart rate. A higher heart rate performs as a trigger to activate the primordial flight-or-fight response. Previous research has shown that this response temporarily lessens a human’s sensitivity to pain, which in turn frees us to respond more quickly (and bravely) to external threats. I have a feeling it doesn’t hurt that a shouted mouthful of expletives also tends to make us look and sound tougher and more dangerous than we might actually be. As humourist Finley Peter Dunne observed, “Swearing was invented as a compromise between running away and fighting.” Whatever it’s origins, swearing has a long, if ignoble pedigree. Even as fine a writer as Mark Twain defended its usefulness. “In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances,” observed the author of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, “profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer,” And Twain, for all his verbal facility was an enthusiastic and frequent practitioner. The man swore – a lot. His wife Livy did everything she could to discourage Twain’s use of profanity. One morning, after he’d cut himself shaving and delivered a long, loud and loquacious volley of curses, his wife confronted him, cleared her throat daintily and demurely repeated verbatim every X-rated syllable he had just uttered. Twain heard her out patiently, looked up to the ceiling, then shook his head sadly. “You have the lyrics, my dear,” he said, “but I’m afraid you’ll never master the tune.” Damn! I wish I’d said that. Arthur Black Other Views Have a nice %$#&ing day Signs of the economic recession are almost everywhere, but not even a CAT scan could detect one in the world of doctors. While there have been sputtering indications recoveries in some areas may not be far off, Ontario is still losing jobs and the latest prediction is this will continue. No such gloom, however, pervades the pages of the monthly publication of the Ontario Medical Association, which speaks for doctors and informs them of what is going on in their profession. The Ontario Medical Review publishes advertisements offering jobs for doctors, of which there is no shortage, and particularly these days they seem attractive to those in less needed lines of work. A hospital in Brockville looking for two doctors mentions it is “conveniently located along Highway 401 in the beautiful Thousand Islands region, two hours west of Montreal and three hours east of Toronto.” Another appeals “Get away from The Big Smoke! Our medical doctor has retired from the charming little town of Erin, 45 minutes from Toronto. Come and make the country your home and practice.” Anyone who ever passed though this town would feel fortunate to live in it. Ads commonly are couched to appeal to doctors’ special awareness fresh air and green fields are good for them and their families’ health. Some lure further off the beaten track, because doctors tend to congregate in the bigger cities, where there are more patients and man-made amenities for themselves and their families. Communities far from the bigger cities have difficulties attracting doctors. A hospital in Atikoken boasts it is in “the canoeing capital of the world and will suit doctors with a love of pristine wilderness.” It says the area has a special community spirit and recreation that includes downhill skiing, snowmobiling and mountain biking. Is there an opening for a newspaper columnist in this paradise? It also reminds the doctors willing to move to such further-flung locations enjoy incentives that including eight weeks’ paid vacation. Ads offer temporary jobs for doctors in children’s summer camps on lakes that sound mouth-watering, including one with the use of a private island. But jobs also are very much available in Toronto and other urban centres. They tend to point to such benefits as being in areas with large patient bases (which provide constant work and higher incomes for doctors.) Some also stress they are near ancillary services that help doctors be more effective, including medical specialists, nurses, x-ray and other labs, rehabilitation services, hospitals, pharmacies, dentists and optometrists, which is a key attraction for many. Some hold out the lure that they provide the latest in medical equipment and high-tech offices that make their jobs easier, and one even that it has “diverse and interesting clients,” which sounds intriguing. A family doctor seeking a practice in Toronto’s west end offers his “well- established practice in east Toronto near subway available free,” which sounds a bargain, but may also be a commentary the east end is less desirable. An entrepreneur planning to open a chain of walk-in clinics is seeking doctors wanting to “work and grow without the hassle of investment, management and going through bureaucracy.” Ads tend to promise “generous compensation” or “above-average earnings” and steer clear of saying specifically how much they pay – some feel doctors are paid too much. But an ad for a family doctor offers $200 an hour and another seeking a pediatrician pays $250, which seems enough to keep the wolf from the door. The OMA cautions that a doctor who joins a group practice will have fewer start-up costs and risks, but correspondingly less control over how it operates. It says finding patients “just might be the easiest part of the whole process,” which means doctors may always have jobs. This is not to knock doctors, who should be admired particularly because they have led many fights for laws to improve health including curbs on smoking – but these days they have an unusually sheltered life. Eric Dowd FFrroomm QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk The morning dawned grey, wet and uncompromising in its dreary mood. With a rare weekend at home and no commitments on the calendar there was no longer any excuse to avoid the inevitable. The time had come to do some serious vacuuming. Around the furniture just didn’t cut it anymore and with no chance of deck time, no expected visitors or places to go I decided to suck it up and do the job right. With focus and intent I tackled the cumbersome living room furniture, pulling and tugging it out of position to see what lay beneath. Trust me, I could have lived without discovering the answer to that question. Now, I’ve never professed to be a white- glove kind of housekeeper. Look in my corners and you’ll see that. But I am a neatnik, a Libra, lover of balance and harmony in all things. Confusion, chaos and clutter stress me so I live by the creed that there is a place for everything and everything should be in its place. What I discovered was clearly out of place. We live in an old house and with that of course, come many surprises, including finding other critters sharing that space. Over the years we have had a variety of interlopers, from the typical to the more exotic. But it’s the ground and air assaults of rodents that usually cause the greatest distress. However, I’ve been happy to say that mice have been a rare occurrence of late. Likewise the bat infestation we suffered from some time ago I believed had been solved. So I was obviously none too thrilled when I spied a tiny critter lying in the corner. Softly backpedalling I hurried out to find my hero and have this disgusting creature dealt with. What I didn’t know at the time, was that it was far more disgusting than I had imagined. Flashlight in hand, Mark peered down into the tiny space as I prepared to run for cover in the event this little home invader was only napping. But I saw the bewildered expression and paused just as Mark straightened and said, “Well, I’ll be ?@*#! It’s a toad.” The “T” word — capable of striking terror in my heart and evoking the only logical response I could make in this rather peculiar situation. “I told you they follow me.” I’m phobic about amphibians. Ridiculous perhaps, but let me assure you quite real. I’ve tried to overcome it achieving minor success. But it’s still likely that the sight of the slimy or warted abominations will cause me to gag, hyperventilate, cry and/or flee. So, my reaction to discovering that one had somehow managed to find its way into my safe haven I think was pretty darn rational. Completing my exit line, I calmly turned and distanced myself while the man of the house disposed of the remains. The big question now, is “Huh??”. The distance to be covered from the outside to the living room is not going to be done in a few short hops. It would take some time over a fair amount of open space so I cannot imagine it would be done undetected. Suspicion next falls on my beloved dog who seems to be as enchanted by these things as I am repulsed. But again, how she could manage to carry one in then deposit it under my nose is a mystery as well. Without an answer I’m therefore left wondering if it’s something that might happen again. One thing that is certain, it may take me a while before I’m ready to go looking behind my furniture again. Doctors miss economic recession What lies beneath 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.