The Citizen, 2007-03-29, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 2007. PAGE 5.
Bonnie
Gropp
TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt
Things are moving rapidly toward an
October election in Ontario except that
one party, ironically the one voters have
turned to most in the past half-century, still
does not have anywhere near enough policies.
The Progressive Conservatives led by John
Tory have been slow letting the public know
what they would do if elected and there is
some evidence that when a party waits too
long, voters lose interest in it.
Tory in two-and-a-half years as leader has
established himself as an attractive personality
and has some policies that can be gleaned
from statements he has made, usually while
denouncing the Liberal government under
Premier Dalton McGuinty.
But the Conservative leader does not have
policies covering the wide range of issues that
concern voters and to go into an election
without them would be like stepping out in the
rain without shoes.
The Liberals have policies that can be seen
in what they have done (and failed to do) as a
government and promises including those in
their recent Budget.
The New Democrats have policies on every
conceivable issue, usually passed by rank-and-
file in conventions and sometimes too many
for their MPPs, who found themselves
committed to some they could not afford to
keep the sole time they were elected to
government in 1990.
Parties often wrestle with whether they
should announce policies long before or close
to an election. Announcing early gives more
time to publicize, but also for opponents to
criticize or steal, and announcing late can
appear last-minute desperation.
The best-known and extreme example of a
party waiting too long was the Liberals under
Lyn McLeod keeping their platform secret in
1995 until after the election was called on the
grounds their opponents would take shots at it.
Conservative leader Mike Harris announced
his plan, with the catchy title The Common
Sense Revolution, full of promises to cut taxes
and balance the budget, a full year before the
election, inveigled the governing NDP and
Liberals into debates on it and created interest
with phone hotlines where voters could “call
Mike” about it.
McLeod did not unveil her platform until six
days after the election was called and it was 82
pages long, packed with promises that made it
a watered-down version of Harris’s, because
cutting costs had become the rage, and
included affirmations from 55 movers and
shakers it could be done. But few cared,
because Harris had been there first.
An example of last-minute desperation
failing was Liberal premier David Peterson
promising to cut the sales tax in the 1990
election, when what had appeared a sure win
for him was fast disappearing and voters
recognized the motivation.
A politician without enough policies is like
a comedian without jokes or a singer without
songs and the Liberals have begun deriding
Tory almost daily for lacking policies.
Tory among his few promises has said he
would end the healthcare tax the Liberals
imposed which takes $2.6 billion a year from
residents and their huge increase in spending.
Tory would provide more money for autistic
children and, to avoid lengthy and painful
waits, allow provincial medicare to pay for
surgeries in private clinics where service is
equal or better and costs the same or less.
Tory also has said he would move some
government branches from Toronto to smaller
communities, where their well-paid jobs
would stimulate local economies, and cap
increases in assessment of homes for property
tax at five per cent a year.
Tory may be delayed in coming up with
policies because he is trying to satisfy his
caucus, which includes moderates like himself
and extreme right-wingers more in tune with
Harris, and feel he can wait a few months
longer to announce a fuller range of policies.
But the Conservative leader is taking risks
voters will be thinking of other things by then
and he already will be established in the public
mind as a leader who is short of ideas.
Taking the moment
They say such nice things about people at
their funerals. Makes me sad to realize I’m
going to miss mine by just a few days.
– Garrison Keillor
We humans do a lot of stupid things
in a lot of stupid ways but few can
match the way we let ourselves be
treated after we croak.
I’m talking about our terrestrial sendoff. Can
you think of any other ritual as bizarre and
illogical as the conventional burial
experience?
If I was going to have a traditional burial
here’s what I could look forward to. My
carcass would be splayed out jay-naked on a
slab in front of one or more total strangers who
would bleed me, disembowel me and pump
me full of noxious chemicals to keep me
‘fresh’. Then they would dress me in my best
suit and tie, pimp me out with rouge and face
powder to make me look ‘natural’ and comb
what’s left of my hair.
Then I would go on display in a strange
room where a lugubrious greeter would show
in my friends who want to pay their respects as
well as my enemies who want to make sure
that I’m dead.
I will be, the while, ensconced in a luxurious
casket of impeccably hand-crafted wood lined
with plush satin and festooned with beautiful
brass accoutrements. Eventually my box and I
will be lowered into a cement vault in a hole in
the ground and covered with dirt.
The whole operation will take less than a
week and cost my heirs and assigns more than
the price of a new car.
Now how dumb is that?
Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about this
grisly scenario because when my bell tolls I’m
going up in smoke.
But apparently even cremation is not the
warm and fuzzy eco-friendly alternative I
always assumed it was. Turns out that where I
live, there are absolutely no requirements for
emission controls on crematoria.
Great. Can’t even check out of this place
without making one last ugly contribution to
global warming.
Still, if I can just hang on long enough, I
might be able to avail myself of a third
alternative. It’s called Green Burial and it’s
coming – eventually – to a boneyard near you.
People who elect to have a green burial do
not get embalmed. Nor do they get entombed
in a concrete vault or even a wooden casket.
Bodies are wrapped in shrouds and placed
in unpretentious economical coffins
designed to degrade quickly and naturally in
the ground.
You don’t have to mortgage the house to pay
for a marble memorial either. Green burial
graveyards are left in a natural state,
unencumbered with tombstones or memorial
markers. Instead, a common memorial appears
at the entrance listing everyone who’s interred
there.
Rather than a half-ton of chiseled granite
listing your check-in and check-out date over
some cheesy poetry, you get a tree or a shrub
planted over you.
Now how refreshing is that?
That’s the good news. The bad news is there
aren’t any green burials going on in Canada.
They’re big in Britain and growing in
popularity in the U.S., but so far they are not
happening here.
That may be about to change. The
spokesman for a graveyard in Victoria, B.C.
has announced that next year, they will be
opening a half–acre of their property
exclusively for green burials.
It’s Royal Oak Burial Park if you want to get
your name in.
The company claims it will be the first green
burial site on all of Vancouver Island, but
that’s not technically true. Many native tribes
including the Coast Salish disposed of their
dead by placing them on platforms in trees. It’s
a tradition that endured for hundreds of years.
Now THAT’S recycling.
Incoming white settlers pooh-poohed such
barbaric rituals, of course. They dismantled
and burned the platforms and insisted the
natives adopt our enlightened ways.
But it’s best to tread lightly on other folk’s
traditions. I’m reminded of the story of the
redneck in a cemetery putting flowers
on a friend’s grave when he notices a
Chinese man leaving a bowl of rice on another
plot.
“When do you expect your friend to come
by and eat that rice?” he sneered.
The Chinese smiled politely and said,
“Probably about the time your friend shows up
to smell the flowers.”
Arthur
Black
Tory’s, conservatives lack policies
Apicture, so they say, is worth a
thousand words. Working in
journalism in small-town community
newspapers you soon learn, however, that you
are expected to tell the story both ways.
I knew pretty early in my life that writing
was important to me, something I enjoyed and
that I was not as humiliatingly bad at as
algebra and physics.
A vivid imagination allowed me to turn
boredom into fun as I created fanciful plots for
acting out with friends in rainy-day basement
play. Many times in my teens, pen and paper
had a cathartic effect, as all the angst of
adolescence spilled out in essay and poetry.
Thus, I suppose it was kismet I would find
my way to working on a newspaper. But a bit
of a shock to find that I was not just a writer
now, but a writer with a camera.
Until then photography was always just a
way to chronicle special moments. I never
thought about composition, framing, or mood.
I didn’t think about whether or not my subject
conveyed a message. And I certainly hadn’t
seen the potential in little things. I eventually
got it figured out on a modest level of course,
but it never came easily to me. Unlike some.
Several years ago I met a young girl through
my son. While we shared a love of writing, it
soon became evident that Sarah was
passionate about photography as well. The
camera was an extra appendage accompanying
her on every excursion.
It wasn’t just that she was snap happy either.
She could see the possibilities behind the
simplest subject, a single flower, a block of
wood, and make it picture perfect.
And she worked to improve. Those who
knew her could see how important
photography had become and that it wasn’t
enough to be good. She wanted to be better.
How much better is something we’ll never
know. Sarah was sadly lost to us last summer
as the result of a car crash. But the legacy she
left with her prolific photographic recording of
everything from local rock bands to clouds,
and (thank you so much Sarah) to our
grandson, is a treasure to be shared.
Sarah didn’t just take a picture of something;
she captured the moment in a way that made it
as vital to see months later as it was right then.
One of her favourite subjects was the sunset.
Anyone going through the boxes and boxes of
photos she took will discover its fiery image
frozen for posterity over and over again.
And which has now inspired a special event
in her honour. The Huron Camera Club, of
which Sarah was a founding member, is
calling for sunset shots for Last Light, a photo
contest, exhibit and sale to be held at the
Goderich Library for two weeks beginning
May 5.
What a fitting tribute to this young woman
and a beautiful way to remember.
I even went through some of my photos
thinking that it might be nice to be part of
something for Sarah. Whether I enter or not
I’ve yet to decide. But, as I looked at the
pictures, I came upon one which, while she
wasn’t there with me, will always make me
think of her. It was a beautiful day at the lake.
Against the backdrop of the water illuminated
by the crimson sun as it began its sultry
decline, my grandson was on an excursion of
discovery along the rocky shore.
Two of her favourite subjects and I, just as
Sarah would have, saw the moment and took
it.
Other Views Green is the only way to go
Eric
Dowd
FFrroomm
QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk
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Final Thought