HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2008-10-16, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2008. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
Breathe, just breathe
Anybody remember the shmoo? It was a
critter dreamed up by Al Capp, the
cartoonist who created the L’il Abner
strip half a century ago, give or take.
The shmoo was about the size and shape of
a bowling pin, except it had tiny legs, a
perpetual grin and big friendly eyes.
Shmoos ran in packs and liked to hang
around with humans. They lived on air and
water, liked to be stroked and fondled like
puppies, but most of all, they loved to be eaten.
Why, a shmoo would jump right into the
frying pan in anticipation.
Tasted like fried chicken, readers were told.
The shmoo was a socialist’s wet dream – a
plentiful foodstock that didn’t have to be fed
or stabled, cultivated or harvested, taken to
market or slaughtered.
Most of all, the shmoo was a hot meal that
didn’t engender feelings of guilt or remorse in
consumers. The shmoos wanted people to eat
them.
Mother Nature never did give us the shmoo
but she came tantalizingly close. Ladies and
gentlemen, allow me to introduce The Dexter.
The Dexter is…well, let’s call it a lawn
mower. It runs very quietly, gets excellent
mileage with minimal maintenance. The
Dexter not only keeps your grass trimmed, it
fertilizes it at the same time.
And the Dexter uses no oil at all. In fact, it
uses no gasoline. Or electricity, or batteries or
solar panels.
The Dexter runs on – how cool is this? –
grass.
Big deal, you say. Goats and sheep can eat
grass – hell, I’ve got deer in my yard that do
the same thing.
Yeah, but can you get a quart of milk off
them every day?
The Dexter is a cow. It moos like a cow,
gives milk like a cow, eats grass and grows
horns and has calves like a cow. The big
difference between a Dexter and, say, a
Holstein is that a decent milking Holstein is
the size of a Dodge minivan. A Dexter is no
bigger than a Labrador retriever.
A nasty-tempered or just plain clumsy
Holstein can crush you like a grape against a
stable wall. If it steps on your foot you won’t
walk for a week. Whereas Dexters are
affectionate and almost small enough to pick
up in your arms.
And unlike the shmoo, the Dexter is real. It
exists. It is a mountain breed from Ireland that
has been around for ages and is now found on
farms around the world. More than 4,100
Dexter cows were registered in 2007 by the
Dexter Cattle Society.
A dozen or so of those cows live on the
rolling fields of a 20-acre farm belonging to
poet and songwriter Pam Ayres who lives in
the Cotswolds in England. It’s a family affair
sans bureaucratic interference and that’s just
the way Pam Ayres likes it.
“The government has no interest in where
our food comes from or how it tastes,” she told
a Sunday Times reporter, “So it’s nice to set
your own welfare and quality standards.”
The Dexter is just the opening wedge of the
blooming mini-cow boom. The Australian
government is getting involved in a big way.
They’ve cross-bred cattle strains to produce
two new breeds – the Mini-Hereford and the
Lowline Angus. The latter can produce 70 per
cent of the meat of its big sister, yet it stands
only 39 inches high.
So what’s the big attraction? Economy of
scale, for one thing. As any cattle producer can
tell you, the cost of raising conventional cattle
is going through the barn roof. Heating,
transportation – and especially the cost of feed
– are all escalating astronomically. Mini-cattle
obviously take up less room and need ‘way
less fuel than their oversized cousins.
My hunch is that for some consumers these
mini-breeds are going to cut out the cattle-
producing middlemen entirely. If you’ve got
access to a couple of acres of grass, why buy
your milk and meat at the supermarket? You
can raise it yourself.
As one Dexter owner says “as long as
you’ve got plenty of grass they will be fine.
You don’t really have to feed them…and they
have a lovely temperament.”
Ah, there’s the rub. These Dexters and Mini-
Herefords and Lowline Angus’are, when all is
said and done….kinda cute.
I have a theory that if some future
anthropologist could travel back in time and
interview us, the conversation would go
something like this: “Let me get this straight.
You…ate…your fellow creatures? You
actually raised animals, fed them and sheltered
them and nurtured them, then you sent them
off to abattoirs and slaughter houses and you
had them killed and dismembered and
separated into gobbets of protein in shrink-
wrapped packets on Styrofoam trays and you
sat down and…ate…them?
And we will say, “Well yeah, we did. Right
up until the Dexters. That’s when we all went
vegetarian. Those Dexters were just too damn
cute to kill.”
Arthur
Black
Other Views The Dexter: too cute to kill
When will an Ontario politician pluck
up the courage to stand in the
legislature and say many of today’s
university students are a bunch of hooligans?
The evidence is clear. Drunkenness,
rowdiness, vandalism and fighting involving
students, although a minority, is common and
increasing. People living near some
universities have expressed fear for their
physical safety and homes.
A doctor in a hospital emergency room, who
has treated many students injured in brawls
and other antics, has warned someone will be
killed soon unless student violence is curbed.
Ministers and MPPs should be concerned,
but none in any party has stood to condemn the
students or offer a solution, which would
include educating students to behave better
and making it clear they will be treated like
others and forced to obey the law.
This would help reduce incidents such as
one during a homecoming party at Queen’s
University in Kingston, when more than 8,000
revellers jammed a street, police brought
reinforcements from neighboring
communities to help their 200-strong force
and charged more than 600, mostly with
alcohol-related offences, and dozens of injured
students were treated in hospital.
After the doctor warned, “Each year is
worse than the one before and loss of life is
inevitable if this continues,” the university said
it will consider canceling the annual event.
Police called to a district of mainly student
housing near Fanshawe College in London
laid 1,118 charges against students in a month,
nearly 300 more than in the entire previous
school year. Most were for drinking and
rowdiness, which included an incident in
which 500 students got out of control at a
street party, leading to a series of fights, but
two students were charged with sexually
assaulting a woman.
A college spokesman said this is its worst
year for problems with partying and “we’re
disgusted.”
In Waterloo residents have complained
students have turned their area close to the
university into a “student slum” by vomiting
and urinating on their lawns and the
municipality had to send a firetruck to clean
one lawn.
Police laid 330 charges against students for
public nuisance and vandalism in the area in
less than a month.
Business owners in St. Catharines have
complained the downtown area with its 60
bars has become “a university street party” and
demanded the city provide late-night buses to
get students out of downtown.
In Guelph where as many as 5,000 drinkers,
mostly students, pour from downtown bars
weekends at 2 a.m., a newspaper says the area
often is “a sea of drunkenness.” This writer
checked and within a few minutes saw a fight
involving a dozen young men and blood on the
sidewalk.
In Oshawa, where there is a new university,
residents’complaints of late-night partying by
students prompted police to station 10 more
officers in student neighbourhoods, but a 19-
year-old was stabbed at a house party.
Homeowners also sued neighbours renting
to students who drank heavily, held noisy late-
night parties and had sex in front of curtainless
windows and a court ordered the owners to
stop using their homes as lodging houses.
Ryerson University in Toronto last month
imposed a “code of conduct” calling on
students to refrain from excessive drinking in
public, but unfortunately has no way of
enforcing it.
Students behave away from home in ways
they would never dream of in their own
communities, where they are known.
Politicians turn a blind eye first because they
like to be seen in tune with youth and the times
and not as fuddy-duddies.
They also feel they were young once and
grew out of it and the students will grow out of
it and move on, which probably will happen,
but they will be succeeded by new students
who behave similarly offensively to those who
live near them.
The politicians also teach the students they
are privileged and can break laws and get away
with it -- this is not the sort of lesson students
should be learning in university.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
The election is behind us. We have
chosen a leader who will either lead us
from this morass of economic
uncertainty or plunge us deeper into the abyss
of apprehension over the future.
And for many, looking ahead is
unquestionably a good reason to feel edgy. It’s
not bad enough that making ends meet in the
present is a challenge, now we have to wonder
if the money we squeezed out of our
paycheques to try and ensure at least some level
of comfort on retirement will be there.
One day last week my husband and I received
a letter from a company that looks after some of
our investments. Breathe the letter suggested.
Just breathe. All will be fine.
Kind of felt like I was getting financial
wisdom from yoga instructors.
Even though listening to the news had given
me some indication of what was to come, this
obscure attempt to reassure had a less than
soothing affect. And when their representative
called us that evening and used words like panic
and catastrophic before reminding us to hang in
there and, good grief, not again, to just breathe,
it was lucky for him a phone line separated us.
I’ve been a tough sell on investing. I have a
problem using the money I work for today, to
work for me tomorrow. Especially when it
means I can’t always have what I’d like now. It
was only the promise of a better return on my
income tax that got me started with RRSPs
decades ago.
But then, the money people started showing
up and telling me that it wasn’t enough. The
gains were steady but minimal and if I wanted
to enjoy the kind of lifestyle I have currently
(Now, there’s something to strive for!) I needed
to diversify. Take some chances, live a little
dangerously and it will pay off.
I’ve never been comfortable with risk. But
I’ve always trusted expert advice whether it
comes from doctor, farmer or electrician. It’s
not to say I haven’t been burned by that, but you
have to have faith in something.
This was not about to be any different. After
all, when it comes to investments, I thought, my
loss is their loss.
So I’ve shut my eyes while my more daring
husband has plunged into the market. And I’ve
let advisors guide me into choosing this
commodity and that commodity, or move me
from one to the other when it seemed right.
And now, as many others, I watch and wait
because to do otherwise isn’t the answer either
they tell me. As I see our hard-earned money
trickle, or on some days wash away, I’ve been
reminded to keep in mind the good times. Think
about the gains that I’ve made and the losses
won’t seem so great.
Nice try. Last night on CNN’s Anderson
Cooper a financial expert said that people in
their 30s and 40s need not worry, there’s lots of
time to make it up before retirement.
And for the rest of us? Sure they were talking
about the U.S. where the economy is in an even
bigger mess than ours, but can we safely assume
we won’t be following?
Fool that I am I have decided to hope so. At
least for now. This past weekend, with family
around me and a sky so blue it was difficult not
to think positively.
Now with the election behind us, time will tell
how long that state of mind can hold. Did we
choose the government to find a way over the
abyss?
If not, we have a month to pray the Americans
will. And with any luck, if they do, we can hitch
a ride across on their coattails.
MPPs ignore student hooligans
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