HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2008-10-30, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2008. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
Be a guide
I could never bear to be buried with
people to whom I had not been
introduced.
– Norman Parkinson, British photographer
Unfortunately, most of us don’t get to
choose all of our next-door neighbours in the
Great Hereafter. But we do have some say in
how we present ourselves to them.
Which is why I found myself window
shopping for wicker baskets last week. Found
a beauty in the House Furnishings section
down at Home Hardware. Nice and deep,
about three feet long and 30 inches wide, made
of hand-woven willow.
It’s on sale until the end of the month for
only $19.95.
I figured I could buy a pair of them, glue
them together end to end, knock out the
middle partitions and have myself a nifty little
getaway pod (aka coffin), all for less than 50
bucks.
A little morbid, you think? Hardly. Forward
thinking, I call it.
There’s a cemetery not far from where I live
and (currently) breathe that has already set
aside a half acre of its premises to exclusively
accommodate 284 ‘eco-graves’ – plots in
which the environmentally sensitive newly-
expired can pre-arrange to have themselves
planted in ‘biodegradable caskets’.
Makes sense to me. I have never understood
the peculiar penchant of my tribe for interring
our departed in outrageous circus floats hand-
crafted of exotic woods, brushed silk and
burnished brass, the sole function of which is
to transport said remains from the funeral
parlour to a hole in the ground, never to be
seen again.
It is, perhaps, the ultimate in human folly.
One last pathetic stab at immortality.
Shakespeare recognized – and nailed the
futility of it – more than four centuries ago:
Golden lads and girls all must
As chimney sweepers, turn to dust
As I say, the wickerware casket makes
perfect sense to me. What makes less sense is
the fact that (a) Canadian law prohibits me
from whipping up my own casket, DYI style,
down in my basement and (b) once I turn the
project over to the professionals, I’m going to
pay considerably more than the
aforementioned half a C-note.
If, for instance, I engage the services of the
Evergreen Casket Corporation, one of the
world leaders in the biodegradable coffin
game, I can expect to fork over a base price of
$2,000 for a casket made of wicker (which, on
their website at least, does not look a helluva
lot more upscale than my fantasy Home
Hardware jobbie).
Two thousand bucks? For a one-use-only
takeout tote box made of dried grass?
Such naked avarice would bring a blush of
embarrassment to the cheeks of an oil
company executive.
I could probably get myself a better deal if I
lived in Europe. They ran out of cheap and
vacant space for expired citizens centuries
ago.
Consequently, Europeans are much more
open to cheap and efficient disposal options.
Over there you can choose from a whole line
of inexpensive caskets made of honeycombed
recycled cardboard – even biodegradable urns.
Hey, if I was lucky enough to kick off in
India, I could have myself barbecued and
pecked into the next world by vultures along
the banks of the Ganges…
Yeah, well. Some options are just a little too
cheap.
We’re still getting used to the idea of
economical, environmentally friendly burials
on this side of the water. “Eco-burial”, as its
known, is a fledgling industry in Canada – and
our next-door neighbours are just as behind the
times. Population of the USA: 300 million.
Number of natural burial grounds: 10.
There’s an old saying that the only things
certain in life are death and taxes, but I’m not
so sure about the first one. Even in death, you
can’t always get what you want.
I’m reminded of the story of poor old Ben
Jonson, a dramatist contemporary of
Shakespeare. Ben, who thought he had the ear
of King Charles I, asked for ‘just a square
foot’ in Westminster Abbey for his burial plot.
King Charles either didn’t like Ben much or
else he had a wicked sense of humour. Visit
Westminster Abbey and you can see Ben
Jonson’s grave. His gravestone is exactly one
foot square and the remains of Ben are indeed
beneath it. The King had him buried standing
up.
Arthur
Black
Other Views You can’t always get what you want
Every time someone looks into a
government closet in Ontario a skeleton
falls out and residents must be
wondering if any branch of government works
properly.
The recent examples include Ombudsman
Andre Marin’s review of the Special
Investigations Unit, which was set up to probe
incidents in which someone is killed or
seriously injured by police to avoid police
being shown favouritism. It has boasted it is “a
world leader” in this balancing act.
The Ombudsman found its investigators,
mostly former police officers, are too timid
and deferential toward police to do their job
effectively. Government after government has
been content if they soothe police and the
community rather than investigate effectively.
This is not much progress when politicians
have said that for more than 40 years they
want to see residents treated fairly in their
dealings with police.
A public enquiry by a judge has found a
forensic pathologist in the Ontario coroner’s
office, Dr. Charles Smith, volunteered
inaccurate testimony over two decades,
supposedly in his enthusiasm to combat child
abuse. It led to at least 12 people being jailed,
others wrongly accused and children removed
from their parents, devastating many lives.
Senior officials in the coroner’s office, part
of the Ministry of Community Safety and
Correctional Services, were found to have
failed to supervise the doctor, defended him
and in the end tried to protect their office’s
reputation instead of the public and made
community safety a low priority.
When a huge explosion destroyed a
privately-owned propane storage depot in
Toronto and damaged more than 500 homes at
a time workers were transferring fuel illegally
between trucks, the province was discovered
to have left a little-known body run by the fuel
industry, the Technical Standards and Safety
Authority, to regulate and inspect the depots.
The province is now considering taking over
regulating, but there is not thorough
confidence these days in government being a
strict supervisor.
The Ombudsman, who has looked behind
more closed doors and exposed more
skeletons than anyone, has examined the
Criminal Injuries Compensation Board,
responsible for providing financial help to
victims of violent crime.
The Ombudsman found the board
commonly treats applicants with suspicion and
indifference and goes out of its way to use
technicalities to avoid compensating them, so
they wait an average three years for rulings.
He called the board a “colossal failure” and
blamed successive governments of all parties
that have allotted it unrealistic funds, although
they express fervently in the legislature their
determination to help victims of crime.
The Ontario auditor general, who looks
mainly at whether the province gets value for
money, studied children’s aid societies and
found it pays for some of their officials to
drive expensive, top-of-the-line SUVs and
alleviate their stress with $2,000-a-year gym
memberships, although their organizations
lack funds to provide children’s programs.
The auditor general also cast his eye over
whether the province’s efforts to prevent and
control infections, including the rapidly
spreading C. difficile, in hospitals are effective
and found many healthcare workers,
particularly doctors, contribute by failing to
wash their hands between seeing patients.
Virtually whenever a public institution has
been subjected to searching scrutiny, it has
been found to have serious failings.
This suggests most and perhaps all
government programs fail to do their jobs as
effectively as they should, let down those they
are supposed to serve and therefore waste
huge amounts of taxpayers’ money.
Many public institutions are not subject to
such scrutiny. The Ombudsman, the most
aggressive investigator, has no mandate to
look at complaints about school boards,
universities, municipalities except on the
narrow issue of closed meetings, police
generally, as distinct from the Special
Investigations Unit, and hospitals.
Marin has asked the province for authority
to investigate complaints about hospitals and
the opposition Progressive Conservatives and
New Democrats support him. But Liberal
Premier Dalton McGuinty has refused, saying
this is unnecessary.
The premier needs to show there are
branches of government that work properly,
but he is more afraid of finding more
skeletons.
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
The screen fades to soft lighting as the
couple makes their way to a horizontal
position and with the canoodling heating
up, the adult viewer begins to sweat. How
graphic will this be? What will the child beside
her make of what they’re seeing? Will there be
questions?
Or even worse, perhaps, there won’t and the
mysteries of intimacy will leave the youngster
confused.
Not to worry. The scene shifts in seconds and
two armed men make their way into a gloomy
building. Gross creatures skulk from dark
places and the rapid staccato of gunfire sends
some sprawling, while others get through to
wreak their own disturbing havoc on the enemy.
A friend and I were discussing movies
recently and during the conversation she
mentioned one she’d been watching with her
grandchildren. Having inadvertently flipped it
on while changing channels she was surprised
to discover it was not just familiar to them, but
that they could provide her with a play-by-play
as scenes unfolded.
The show is an adventure flick, popular today
for the fast-pace and special effects. And while
a PG-13 rating doesn’t preclude children from
watching, it does present its moments.
Such was the case here, as my friend noted
the frightening characters and action/adventure
violence. However, it was the one child’s
remark that the next scene was the ‘loving
scene’ that made her a little edgy. She was
relieved when it turned out to be nothing more
than a tender kiss between two people in love.
I’ve been in her place. I’ve watched movies
with my children when they were younger and
now with my grandson, that, because of a level
of violence or some scary images, I’ve felt were
less than appropriate.
But it was always the suggestions of sexuality
that made me nervous.
Which is a little strange when you consider it.
Violence is abhorrent to normal folks. It’s the
worst of humanity, unforgivable and aggressive.
On the other hand, nudity or love and the
making of it are natural. Yet, it is these that
make us want to cover a child’s eyes.
Perhaps it’s because violence can be
explained away as atypical, a depiction in a land
of make believe that makes it less threatening
for adults when viewed in the presence of a
younger person. And perhaps it’s the private
nature of intimacy that has us feeling awkward.
Often the intimacy comes through words and
phrases that are well above the ken of a child.
And when a PG movie gets physical it also
tends to be subtle, little more than tenderness
and touch.
There is nothing subtle about swordplay,
gunfire and fisticuffs. Nor are words like death
and demons over a youngster’s head.
So it does kind of make me shake mine.
Certainly I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t be
leery of on-screen sexuality when a child will
be watching, just that we should remember it’s
a natural part of life and worry more about the
violence, rather than the other way around.
The simple answer, I suppose, would be to
avoid them. Unfortunately, there are very few
movies that offer a G rating and appeal for
school-age kids. Companies that have been
synonymous with family, such as Disney, are
making bolder movies to appeal to the mass
market.
All parents and grandparents can do is
remember the PG-13 rating is there for a reason.
Learn as much as you can about the movie
before you let kids see it. Then if you’re
comfortable with the content, watch it with
them, watch their reactions and guide them
through.
Too many skeletons in government closet
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