Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1996-05-08, Page 5y Raymond Canon International Scene THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, MAY 8, 1996 PAGE 5. Crooks the dumbest of all Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity. And I'm not sure about the former. Albert Einstein Old Al sure had that right - the human stupidity part, I mean. Anybody who thinks that the human race is evolving onto a higher plane hasn't spent much time perusing the police blotter down at the local precinct. People in general may be dumb as Einstein said, but crooks have got to be among the dumbest people of all. Oh, I know there are criminal masterminds around, who run circles around the cops and never spend a nanosecond in the stammer. But there aren't many like that. For every brilliant crook there are at least a hundred sad sack schlemiels who deserve to be in prison if only for their own safekeeping. For every Jesse James there's... Well, there's a guy like the bonehead who held up a convenience store in Nevada last year. The store clerk asked for permission to make one phone call. "Just one" said the stickup artist. Amazingly enough, the clerk The importance of reading One of the best things my teachers and family ever did for me was to encourage me to read books. I should admit right at the beginning that such an accomplishment was not as hard as it might appear, since television had not yet made its appearance during my childhood and was not, therefore, in a position to distract me from the art of reading. What attracted me was the fact that I could pick it up and put it down and, unlike radio, did not run the risk of missing anything. To' this day libraries all over can vouch for the fact that I am a frequent visitor and, thanks to the proliferation of pocket books, I can take my reading with me whenever I travel by plane or train. I periodically look over the "Bestseller" list to see what other people are reading and in this connection I recently came across a list of the bestsellers in both English and French speaking Canada and a comparison with what was being read at the same time in another English speaking country - the United States and another French speaking country - France. I think this was done just to see how Canadian readers compared with their counterparts in other countries. Let's take the English books first. It soon became apparent that we are not too opted to Jial the number of the local constabulary. The cops were there before the robber got out the door. Some guys think bigger than knocking off the corner store. Like the hood who decided to blow up the Percy Priest Dam outside of Nashville, Tennessee. He figured the dam burst would put the city of Nashville under 50 feet of water. Then all he had to do was strap on a pair of scuba tanks and frog-kick his way from jewellery store to jewellery store. Jams Bond might have pulled it off, but not this guy. He'd never been scuba diving in his life. Hadn't done much demolition work either. The bomb he detonated merely blew the door off an old wooden shack on top of the darn. Then here was the hapless hoodlum in Forth Worth, Texas, who decided to rob a branch of the First National Bank. Exceedingly polite as bank robbers go, he took his place in the longish line-up of customers waiting to be served. Who knows? He might have pulled it off. If he hadn't been wearing a ski mask while he stood in line. By the time he got to a teller, she was flanked by two policemen. And those weren't Bic Retractables they were pointing his way. An even dumber bank bandit would be Kevin Thompson, who tried to hold up a branch of the MidAtlantic Bank in Bloomfield, New Jersey last summer. When he was arrested hours later, Kevin had cleverly managed to hold on to the hold up note he'd shown the teller. nationalistic when it comes to reading our own authors. Over half the list of bestsellers in Canada were written by Americans. Included in the list was one on children by Hillary Rodham Clinton, the wife of the American president. Also included was The Road Ahead by Bill Gates, the well known founder of Microsoft. Gates, by the way, established something of a record. He was on the bestseller list in all four of the categories which I outlined above: it seems his French translation is no slouch either when it comes to attracting readers. No other book on the list came close to appearing on all four. I was not surprised to see Peter Newman and Richard Gwyn on the English Canadian list; what was more surprising was Stompin' Tom Connors book, but he is, it seems, better known than I had imagined. On the American list there were two by Deepak Chopra, whose books, if you have not already read them, would be worth a serious look. Bill Bradley is also worth a look, but the rest are likely to be down just as fast as they came up. France, it would appear, is fascinated by its recently deceased president Francois Mitterand. No less than half the top 10 books on that country's list were about him. This came as something of a surprise to me; the last years of his life saw him play a decreasing role. The cancer that finally killed him seemed to mesmerize his thinking to the detriment of all others. Frenchmen can talk all they want about supporting the separatists in Quebec in their efforts to create their own country, but the fact remains that the gap between the two "This is a stickup" it read, "keep clam and no won will get hammed." Kevin's goose was cooked with or without lousy spelling. He'd written the note on the back of his own paycheck stub. Ah, but how about counterfeiting? Surely that's got to attract a higher calibre of crook? Not necessarily. I give you the case of Joseph T. Hill, convicted in 1990 of counterfeiting Polish currency. To cut costs, Joe used a Canon colour copying machine to forge three million zlotys — worth about $300 dollars U.S. The cop who nabbed him said, "He could have printed a boxcar full and not had enough to buy a decent suit." The world's all-time dumbest crook? Alas, the field is too crowded to call. But due consideration must be given to David Posman, a would-be armoured-truck heister in Providence, Rhode Island. David had thought of everything — including a disguise. He held up the truck as planned, grabbed four of the heaviest sacks of cash in the back and proceeded to haul them to his truck which was parked just a block away. Would anyone recognize him? Not likely. Posman had cleverly elected to dress as a woman. Complete with earrings, a frilly blouse, high heels, pantihose and... Shoot. That's what he forgot — a skirt. And the pantihose was sheer and see through. Probably just as well. The four money bags Posman was lugging contained pennies. About $200 worth, tops. Posman's hernia probably showed right 'through his pantihose. groups of French speaking people is as wide as it ever was. The Quebecois were not interested in Mitterand at all. The only book the two had in common was that of Bill Gates of Microsoft, Another strange entry was a translation from the English of one of Arnold Toynbee's books on history. While it is my belief that Toynbee would fascinate anybody, the fact that he would appear on a French list and not on an English one shows some things are beyond explanation. Unless, of course, there is something in the books that appears to promote separatism as a politically acceptable phenomenon. One thing is certain. It will be the proverbial frosty Friday before Americans start reading a Canadian bestseller. They are so wrapped up in their own culture and importance that it seems almost an insult to them for anybody to suggest that they might like to read anything serious from any other English-speaking country. I recently read an article in an American publication about a miracle that happened thanks to quick action on the part of a London hospital. If you didn't look carefully you would have thought that the miracle took place in, where else, the United States. Living beside the U.S. is not exactly a bed of roses. GOT A BEEF? Write a letter to the editor The short of it By Bonnie Gropp A screenplay in the works This past weekend I became inspired. The movie Waiting to Exhale, of four women, fed up and tired of waiting for a decent man to pop into their lives, received a lot of hype before its premiere, then faded from the big screen with hardly an applause, as many others before it, only to reappear at a rather low price on video store shelves everywhere. It is being heralded here with almost as much hype as before, with no apparent regard to its early demise from the box office scene. For a few reasons I was curious about this movie. The hype, notwithstanding, there was a suggestion in People magazine a few weeks back that Whitney Houston, who plays Savannah, was, as many other blacks, shut out of the Oscar race because of her colour. Now, having seen Whitney's performance in The Bodyguard, a few years ago, I was interested to see whether she had improved so much that such a statement could have any credence. However, at least as far as Whitney's concerned, I don't believe Hollywood had any racial bias; Houston did not get a nomination nod, because, quite simply, and if you're honest you'll agree, she can't act. The movie too, though while it was fine, was not all that terrific. I couldn't help thinking 'that so many raves for it were precipitated by the fact it would be politically incorrect to slam a movie about four black women bashing men. Now, while - I am not above a little male-bashing on my own, even, I admit shamefacedly, can be quite good at it, by the end of this production I had almost switched sides. If I was to admire these women for their strength in adversity, if I was to empathize with their struggle in this male-dominated world, if I was to sympathize with their inability to find a man of quality I had failed them. Or they had failed me by not inflaming any of those perceptions. One character, spent much of her time in the bedroom, with a variety of men, whiCh though fine if that's what you're into, is generally not the place you'll discover Mr. Sensitivity. The Houston character was a rather self-absorbed, career dnven woman, whose one true love was married. And the third heroine, whose husband dumped her for, of all things, "a white woman", we were told time and time again (Is this worse than being jilted for a black woman?) after 11 years of marriage I found tough to commiserate with after awhile. Though it was easy to accept her violent anger and self-pity for a time, her continued drive to keep the house and get what her kids needed became rather pathetic, particularly when all the bitterness dissolved into saccharine sweetness after the judge granted her oodles and oodles in the divorce settlement. The fourth lead player in this film was the antithesis of her peers, forgiving, celibate for 10 years, but emotionally needy and with no sense of self esteem. As a woman I had looked forward to this movie having heard so much about the strength and survival instincts of its four heroines. But a niggling feeling that it got so much attention because it was not about white people and was about vivid, vital women has bothered me. There should be movies about women, which expose their vulnerabilities, while revealing the depth, courage and independence they can possess. Personally, I don't believe this one did. But it did, as I mentioned earlier inspire me. Now that I understand what it takes to have an acclaimed screenplay, I thought I might give it a try. I figure a story on Sikh dwarves can't miss. Arthur Black