The Citizen, 1997-01-15, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15,1997 PAGE 5.
The
Short
Answer: a dork
I once had a teacher who told us, tongue
wedged firmly in cheek, that "all
generalizations are for idiots".
She was probably right, but I'm going to
risk one anyway:
Anybody who hunts bears is a Dork.
I'm talking about those brave wilderness
warriors who charcoal their cheekbones, don
Desert Storm-style camouflage fatigues,
climb into their Jeeps and Jimmy’s and point
the hood ornaments towards Bear Country.
When they get there, they pick a likely
looking spot, load their rifles and put out "the
bait". The bait varies, but it's never anything
you'd want to see on the breakfast table.
Sometimes it's a pail of ripe fish heads or a
bag of putrefying garbage. The Great White
Hunters park their lard butts within easy
firing range of "the bait" and wait for a bear
to show up.
The bears often do. Bears aren't too bright,
and they'll eat just about anything - the
stinkier the better.
And since it presents the profile of an
upholstered Dumpster, the bear is
International Scene
Z 7 __________ _ _________________________________________________________________________________________
By Raymond Canon
Travel’s funny side
Around this time of year most people are
not very anxious to hear a lot of depressing
or ponderous preachings on some aspect of
our international trade or the horrendous
situation in some part of the world. For this
reason I thought I would tread on the lighter
side of things and relate to you a few of the
more humorous moments of my wanderings
throughout the world. Perhaps you will recall
some similar incident that you had, in which
case we can laugh together.
Did you ever have an outing turn out
completely different from what it started to
be? When I was living in Portugal, I went
down to Lisbon one week to do some work.
While there, I phoned two Portuguese girls
(sisters) who were friends of a friend of mine
in St. Gall.
We got together for lunch and they asked
me if I would like to go to hear the fados
some evening. For the unitiated, fados are the
traditional folk-songs of the country and are
well worth hearing. So it was that we ended
up in a nightclub and sat back with a bottle of
wine to enjoy the music.
Another tourist in the place couldn't seem
to keep quiet and interrupted the music
several times. An announcement came on the
loud speaker asking whether there was
anybody in the audience who spoke German.
My friends volunteered me and I was asked
if I would go to the gentleman and explain to
him that he was disturbing the floor show.
I went over, chatted with him for a moment
and found out that he was a young Swiss
who did not speak a word of Portuguese; he
wasn't too inebriated, but he was homesick.
To the delight of everybody I got him quieted
pathetically easy to shoot. Especially when
it's got its head stuffed into a garbage can. Il's
about as challenging as hunting garden slugs
with a hammer or fishing with grenades.
The question is, what kind of spiritual
bankrupt could possibly consider bear-
baiting a sportsmanlike experience?
Answer: a Dork.
Or a poacher. Bear poachers make even the
Dorks look good. Bear poachers kill bears
any way they can - leg traps, poison, jack
lighting - and then they cut off their paws,
hack out their gall bladders and leave the
carcass to rot where it fell. Poachers know
that there are sickos in the Orient who will
pony up more than $1,000 U.S. for a single
bear paw - five grand U.S. for the gall
bladder - in order to concoct health potions.
They also know their chances of getting
caught by budget-strapped government
forestry agents are slim.
Poachers are undeniably scum-sucking
vermin, but al least they have reasons for
slaughtering bears - they do it for the money,
just like sneak thieves and hookers.
But the Dorks? The so-called 'sports'
hunters? They do it for...
...the thriimV.
They must be beginning to feel a little
lonely. British Columbia has more bears than
down by inviting him over to our table where
he remained for the rest of the evening.
He turned out to be quite a pleasant fellow.
He ended up paying for the entire evening
and invited the three of us out for dinner the
next evening. He apologized for being noisy
but said that he was not only homesick; he
was bored and wanted to cut loose a bit. I
guess it happens to all of us.
I was driving back from Florida one time
and stopped in Sanford, Fla. to spend the
night and get some gas. At the gas station,
the attendant filled up the tank, checked the
oil and asked me if the car was running fine.
I assured him it was.
"Well," he replied, "there is a loose wire in
front and we can't seem to find where it goes.
Maybe you should come and take a look at
it."
I got out of the car and looked at the wire.
"Oh," I replied, "that's my block heater."
What's a block heater?" he asked.
In Florida he had obviously never seen one
before and I had to explain to him what we
used it for in Canada. His reaction was that it
must really get as cold in Canada as people
said it did. I assured him that it really did in
winter but that it could get very hot in
summer. In fact we have one of the greatest
temperature spreads in the world.
When I was doing a series of newspaper
articles about Yugoslavia (this was before the
break-up), I was going to Dubrovnik from
Sarajevo by train as I had no car. The
conductor was supposed to tell me where to
change trains, but he seemed to have
forgotten. He remembered only when the
train was on its way to the next station.
I would have to get off, he said, and find
some way to get to Dubrovnik, which was on
the Adriatic coast. He also forgot to tell an
army officer which earned him a real
any other province - so many that it's legal to
kill 5,000 black bears alone each year. That
probably means that British Columbia has
more bear hunters as well. But that doesn't
make it popular. An Angus Reid poll taken in
October showed that nearly 80 per cent of
British Columbians are opposed to sport- and
trophy-hunting of bears.
Not surprisingly, the Dorks are trying to
change the public image of their grisly
addiction. A spokesman for the U.S. National
Rifle Association argued in a recent press
release that setting out bait for the purpose of
blowing bears brains out is actually...quite
humane. The NRA reasoning (!) goes that
baiting lets hunters get close enough to be
sure that the bear they see in their crosshairs
is not a sow with cubs.
Unless of course the sow has 'stashed' her
cubs in the bushes while she investigates -
something sows with cubs usually do.
There is a simple way that all bear-hunting
Dorks could avoid shooting mother bears and
orphaning cubs. They could give up buying
barrels of fish guts and rancid horsemeat.
They could donate their fantasy-stud,
pseudo-military hunting gear to the local
theatre society or a costume shop. They
could get smart, get serious, get on board, get
with it.
dressing down in front of everybody.
At any rate the officer and I found
ourselves alone 36 kilometres from our
destination. We (use the term advisedly)
decided to walk the entire distance which
was fine for him since he had little to carry; I
had my typewriter and my bag. We finally
made it and, while I laugh about it now, I
was really bushed when I arrived. I was,
however, not going to admit that to him. He
was, he said, "impressed."
The most chaotic passport inspection I ever
saw was in Baghdad. When we got off the
airplane, everybody took off for the terminal
at breakneck speed, their passport in their
hand. I should have known there was a
reason for all this but, when I got there, the
passengers were all waving their passports at
the inspectors, trying to be next to be
inspected. You might think that there would
be a line-up. Not on your life! Everything
was pure pandemonium.
Just when I was wondering just how long it
would take to get through this mob, I heard
my name being called. I found myself face to
face with a gentleman whom the company
had sent to meet me. He got me through in
no time and I discovered afterwards that he
had written the appropriate chalk marks on
my luggage. I presume a bribe had taken
place but I was smart enough not to ask.
He saifi my visa to enter would be
"arranged later". So it was! I'm still not
certain if I was in the country legally or
illegally.
But then for a long while I felt the same
about Canada. When I came to get my
citizenship, nobody could find any record
whatsoever of me having entered the
country. If my articles disappear without a
trace, you will know they have caught up
with and deported me...
of it
By Bonnie Gropp
Happy where you are
"Honey, if anyone had told me 10 years
ago that this is where I'd be on a Saturday
night, I'd have to assume they're a stranger."
So said I to my warrior this past weekend
as I sat, curled up in my 'jammies', a wine
spritzer beside me, a game of solitaire in
front of me and my family around me. Now,
while there are those who will determine this
action, or lack of, to be a symptom of the
winter weather, let me assure you, this is not
so. This, contrary to my children's teasing
remarks that I have no life, is my life.
And I have chosen it.
It certainly isn't the way things began.
Growing up, I learned early that Saturday
night was the time to howl. My parents
loved to dance and were dam good at it. No
matter how wearing the work week was,
they were never too weary to waltz or too
pooped to polka.
Unlike many people of my generation,
Mom and Dad both worked outside the
home. So, after five days and nights of
mental and physical labour, of doing
everything for someone else, this time was
their time.
Therefore, the concept that socializing was
a deserved reward was ingrained in me from
a very early age. By the time I hit
adolescence, I was in full stride — out the
back door every Saturday night that is. As a
young adult who, unlike my mother, worked
at home, I felt I needed the time out to stay
sane.
Then I got a job outside the home and
suddenly leaving it anytime I didn't have to,
began to look less attractive. Where my
folks found the energy I have no idea,
because the thought of spending more time
out in the real world was more exhausting
than work. This viewpoint was compounded
by another realization. My eldest was
suddenly a senior in high school and I didn't
know what had happened to the years.
Somewhere my life had moved into fast
forward and every minute spent away from
my family seemed wasted.
I suddenly perceived how very little time
we had together on weekdays, with
mealtimes served up at different times for
everyone, or even on Sundays which often
were spent with extended family. It came to
me that I wanted to know as much about
each of my kids and my husband, as they
wanted to share. If I couldn't manage it as
well as other people seem to Monday to
Friday, then I'd better make the time. If that
meant staying home most Saturday nights, it
was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
After all, I knew it wouldn't be forever;
before I knew it the teen drive to get out of
the house on weekends would make it
virtually pointless for my kids' parents to
stay home. Goodness knows, that day is
moving closer with rapid speed.
Now, all this is not to say that I have
become a total fuddy-duddy. Certainly, there
are breaks in the routine when one occasion
or another results in a Saturday night of old.
And interestingly now that they're not the
norm, they're a lot more fun.
But generally, I'm enjoying my quiet
Saturday nights. It's a cozy, satisfying
feeling having nowhere you have to be other
than where you want to be — right where
you are.