HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2008-06-19, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JUNE 19, 2008. PAGE 5.Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
Just be
No disrespect intended to a Canadian
idol and with all due deference to the
musical tastes of my home and native
land, but…
…was there ever a musician so
incongruously misnomered as Feist?
My dictionary defines ‘feisty’ as ‘spirited,
plucky and pugnacious’.
That is not what I hear when I turn on the
radio and some DJ is playing Feist’s megahit
“1,2,3,4”.
What I hear are the papery, whisper-thin
vocalizations of a depressingly typical modern
pop singer – bland, unprepossessing and non-
boat-rocking.
Feisty, I don’t hear.
I’m not saying every singer has to melt the
microphone like Janis Joplin or James Brown,
but could we at least have a little truth in
advertising?
It’s not Feist’s fault. Most pop music
nowadays sounds aimless and unfocused and
about as enticing as a slot on Stephen Harper’s
dance card.
But then, I’m spoiled. I grew up in a time
when pop music was everything it no longer is.
I was around when the Beatles came to
Montreal, Bob Dylan played Ottawa and Elvis
did Vancouver.
When a roly-poly black guy with a big smile
and a flat-top haircut blistered the keyboard at
The Club Embassy in Toronto, I had the best
seat in the house. The black guy was Fats
Domino. I was the bartender.
And when the Stones played Vancouver last
week? I was there too.
What? You didn’t know the Stones were in
Canada? Relax. They still are – if you can get
to an Imax Theatre. Imax is showing Shine A
Light, filmmaker Martin Scorcese’s homage to
The Rolling Stones.
If you haven’t yet seen Shine A Light I can
boil my advice down to just ten words:
See it, see it, see it, see it, see it.
The film is riveting – especially on a six-
storey high Imax screen. Particularly in this
limbo land time of musical mediocrity when
the top 10 hit parade is infested with the lame
and lamentable ululations of wispy warblers
and tentative twitterers.
But then, the subject matter of Shine A Light
is fabulous: The Rolling Stones. What a
crew.
We get to see lean, grey and wolfish Charlie
Watts laying down a drum beat like tracer
bullets from a .50 calibre machine gun, just as
he has for, oh, the past half century.
And there’s Ronnie Wood, sulky and
mischievous, hunched over his guitar looking
like a demented meth addict, tearing off lick
after electrifying lick.
But it’s hard to take your eyes off Keith
Richards, tottering around the stage like a
shambling Gothic ruin. Half Captain Hook,
half drag queen, with beads, feathers
and Chinese coins threaded into his rat’s
nest hair, his eyeliner highlighting the
coulees and canyons of his incredibly
weathered face.
And Mick Jagger. Sir Indomitable,
Inexhaustible Mick. Prancing and pirouetting
like a teenager. Hardly in a sweat, never mind
out of breath.
He pinwheels and grandstands through
number after number, criss-crossing the stage
like a punk Baryshnikov, leaping over drum
kits, ducking under camera booms, singing,
dancing, dancing, singing…
And I find myself, my bulk curled
arthritically into seat 20, row M, thinking:
Holy crap! He’s a senior citizen!
Well, so he is. So they all are, the amazing,
eternal Rolling Stones. An inspiration to all
greying Boomers poised on the cusp of
Geezerhood..
Grace Slick, who sang with The Jefferson
Airplane and was no slouch herself when it
came to getting off a wicked lick, took
in a Stones show last year and later sneered to
a reporter that “Going to a Rolling
Stones concert was like watching rotting
fruit.”
Good line – but sour grapes, Grace. The
liver-curdling truth is that the Rolling Stones,
after more than 50 years and countless
thousands of performances, can Still Do It.
They can still make us remember, especially
in an age of bland and fuzzy, wet-puppy-nose
pop – what an awesome force real rock and
roll was.
And is.
And they remind us that Neil Young, another
geezer rocker, had it right all along. He sang:
“Hey hey, my my. Rock and roll will never
die”.
Arthur
Black
Other Views No moss on these stones
Premier Dalton McGuinty was breezing
along without a care in the world, but
now has a few that could keep him
awake nights.
The Liberal premier had been relaxing, with
opponents unable to lay a glove on him, after
he won majority governments in two
successive elections, which is rare in recent
Ontario politics.
Now he has to worry first because the
province’s economy is sputtering like an
engine running out of gas which,
when it happened before, invariably hurt
premiers.
Ontario has lost close to 200,000 jobs in
manufacturing since the Liberals were elected
in 2003 – it also was losing before – and they
have been replaced mostly by low-paying
jobs, barely enough to pay basic needs.
Some of the causes, including the weakness
of the U.S. dollar that forces that country to
pay more for Ontario-made goods and the
failure of North American auto-makers to
produce competitive, energy-efficient
vehicles, are beyond McGuinty’s control.
He can be faulted for giving hundreds of
millions of dollars to U.S. auto-manufacturers
without adequate guarantees it would be
repaid if they failed to maintain jobs.
Voters have a history of penalizing premiers
when the province gets in economic
downturns. Liberal premier David Peterson
called an election a year early, trying to get the
vote over before a slump started, but voters
also saw it coming and he lost the election and
his seat.
New Democrat premier Bob Rae was in
government throughout a recession he had
never been in a position to start, but many
voters associated it with the New Democrats
and hold it against them to this day.
Progressive Conservative William Davis,
after compiling a more successful record,
twice was reduced to minority governments
during an economic slump.
McGuinty could face the same erosion in
popularity.
The Liberal government could face huge
public wrath also over its shortcomings in
tackling the infection C. difficile, which is
believed to have killed at least 260 patients,
and possibly many more, in Ontario hospitals
since mid-2006.
This compares to 44 killed by the SARS
epidemic of 2002-3, which produced alarms
and investigations. The Conservatives have
asked for a public enquiry, but the Liberals,
who have been slow even collecting
information, have refused. It is difficult to
think of a widespread, lethal problem that is so
little known and the Liberals cannot bury it
under a rug forever.
Governments that feel unassailable often get
arrogant and the Liberals are risking this by
holding meetings across the province
supposedly seeking information to help draft a
strategy to combat poverty, but often refusing
to admit the poor and activists, who might
clutter up proceedings. One was a former New
Democrat minister, Jenny Carter, a frail,
grandmotherly type who would be the last
person in the world to incite violence, but was
thrown out on her ear.
The Liberals have never explained how they
came to invest and lose $100 million in shaky
sub-prime mortgages in the U.S., which
started the current world credit and financial
crises. At a time when the public is more
conscious of public waste, this can be revived
to embarrass McGuinty.
McGuinty also has shown a tendency to get
involved in issues he could, and would, be
politically smarter to stay away from. Some of
his MPPs are warning him this cannot help
their party.
The prime example was his proposal the
legislature drop its recital of the Christian-
based Lord’s Prayer at the start of its daily
proceedings and replace it with something that
more reflects the province’s diversity, which
prompted widespread protests.
This could not be called a revolt, but
backbenchers know their communities and
should be listened to. There was no huge
demand to drop the Lord’s Prayer.
Previous premiers also have been unable to
resist pushing personal ambitions.
Conservative John Robarts, after learning
from experience what the public will accept,
said his philosophy had become “when in
doubt, don’t”. This could be a useful
watchword for McGuinty.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
It was a lovely spring evening, a vibrantly
vital ending to a day that had been one of
consolation and sorrow.
Having attended a funeral, my husband and I
found ourselves capable of little more than
quiet contemplation. And with the full
recognition of a schedule ahead of us that
allowed no chance for respite the rest of the
week, we were in full agreement, as late
afternoon seguéd to pre-twilight time, that we
were going to do absolutely nothing. Finding
the weather in full co-operation with our need
to feel life’s goodness, we made our way to the
deck to sit and simply allow ourselves to be.
If I ever needed a reminder why I hate winter
and live for the warmth and beauty of the warm
seasons this day was it. Music and gentle
breezes chased away stress and gloom. Sunny
skies awakened weary spirits and a tuneful
cardinal encouraged a smile to dreary faces.
A time to unwind is a rare opportunity for
most everyone. As such, they are not taken to
full advantage. Drained as much from emotion
as from the muggy heat, it was easy on this day
to relax and appreciate every moment of down
time. Also, given the way we had spent the
afternoon, it would have been wrong not to.
As the clock co-operated too and minutes
ticked by with an unusual summer-like
lethargy, we found ourselves in more profound
conversation than is typical of my honey and
me. Topics bordered on the urbane, not a
common thing for sure. And while there was
still teasing and laughter, it was undeniably
more subdued.
Soon I noticed an unfamiliar feeling. I
believe it’s called a sense of calm. And with it
came a somewhat heightened awareness of
things around me and their beauty. I became
cognizant of the fact, any time our chatter
faltered, that the space was ably filled by the
serenade of a variety of chirruping outdoor
ministrels and the gentle percussion of rustling
leaves. In tune to time’s slowed pace, I found
myself entertained by a spider’s circuit around
the table’s edge. I watched his apparently
aimless travels without the jittering jumble of
details that generally occupy my mind.
Equally fascinating was the sky’s changing
face as fluffy white clouds, then dense grey
ones took turns skimming across the oceanic
blue. I watched this too for a time, mind clear
and refreshed.
It was an amazing few hours, the kind that
inspires a spiritual connection to this world,
that makes you feel better than well. I’ve said it
before and I’ll say it again, and again, it is
important to mind, body and soul to take some
time to breathe.
Granted, the first few minutes were a
challenge. I had shut the door on everything,
but everything persistently tried to push back
in. Thoughts of work and commitments
threatened to disrupt. But as I got further into
my repose the more peaceful it became.
Forgetting everything that had to be, should be,
or recently was done, actually made forgetting
easier.
And as the dizzying vortex was replaced by
quiet thoughts and appreciation, the list of what
was there to enjoy kept growing.
I always know the birds are there; I hear their
song and smile. I’m ever aware of what the sky
promises for that day. And I treasure the much-
loved faces of my family.
But none of those always get the attention
they deserve, and that’s sad. Life has a way of
filling our days too quickly, and it’s far too
short already to race through it. Find the ways
to slow it down and just be.
Clouds on horizon for McGuinty
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