The Citizen, 1999-08-25, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25, 1999. PAGE 5.
^Arthur Black
A good walk ruined
Very few blacks will take up the sport of golf
until the requirement for plaid pants is
dropped.
Anon.
Golf. What a peculiar way to spend one's
leisure time.
Hunting and fishing, I can understand.
Birdwatching is reasonable. Stamp collecting,
wildlife photography - even train-spotting
kind of makes sense.
But golf?? A pastime that encourages
participants to dress like Moscow pimps, wear
goofy shoes with thumb tacks on the bottom,
and ride around in a motorized dustbin all
afternoon in the heat of the midday sun
whacking a little white ball until it disappears
down a hole?
■Golf. The very name sounds like a throat
obstruction.
The funniest thing I know about golf is how
seriously some golfers take it. Your typical
golf fanatic thinks nothing of rising at dawn
and creeping from the house like a commando
Budgets are show-biz
As an economist, I find the budgets
presented by finance ministers or their
equivalent in other countries to have a certain
academic fascination. However, they have
become something resembling a public
relation exercise with the applause of the
presenting party just another form of canned
laughter.
It has, in fact, got so distracting that I prefer
to read the budget in its entirety the next day in
a reputable newspaper and make my own
assessment at that time.
Voters in every country are aware, I would
hope, that budgets are an art-form of bribing
us with our own money. This may sound rather
cynical but politicians have only themselves to
blame for this feeling, having all too often
dressed up dubious economic policy in the
form of great gifts to the voters, gifts for which
we should be eternally thankful (especially at
the next election).
Taxes are an integral part of all this and I
cannot help but think of the famous dictum
uttered by Colbert, the finance minister of
France’s Louis XIV, that the art of taxation is
being able to pluck the goose in such a way as
to obtain the largest number of feathers with
the least amount of hissing.
I often wonder if this observation is not hung
up in the offices of all finance ministers of the
western world.
I suppose that western countries have been
plucked so much more heavily over the past
quarter of a century due to our demand that
governments produce more and better
services, especially in the fields of health care
and social welfare transfer payments.
For some countries such as Sweden, the
to make his/her way to the clubhouse, there to
prepare the clubs and woods as carefully and
reverently as Achilles selecting spears and
arrows for the siege of Troy.
Committed golfers approach the first green
like Montgomery surveying Alamein. They
monitor the wind, the relative humidity. The
amount of dew on the grass. The length of the
grass. The nap of the grass.
Folks - we are talking about knocking a ball
into a hole using sticks, here. It ain’t Quantum
Physics.
But Hell hath no fury and humanity hath no
stubbornness like a dedicated golfer. Last
month (true story, folks) a golfer on the second
hole of the Metrairie Country Club course was
shot in a drive-by shooting.
No big deal. The second hole isn’t far from
a highway. Some redneck in a truck decided to
take some target practice and drilled the guy as
he was preparing to tee off. Shot him
in the right hip. The news story contains a
kicker: “The shooting did not stop other
golfers en route to the second hole, who
slowed to watch the scene, but then moved
on.”
That’s how it is with truly dedicated golfers.
Reminds me of the story of the golfer
shipwrecked on a desert island for 10 years,
when suddenly one day - a gorgeous woman
geese have been (and are still being) plucked
for about 55 to 60 per cent of their gross
income. The percentage runs all the way down
to about half that, a situation enjoyed by the
United States.
Canadians can only look in envy at the tax
rates of our American neighbours who enjoy
such things as tax deductible interest rate
payments on their mortgages.
The pertinent question, I think, revolves
around the quality of the services we get from
all the plucking. Nobody seems to think that
health services are adequate but the shortages
which are showing up both here and in other
countries are unavoidable considering that
health care costs have been rising much more
rapidly than the amount of money being
injected into the system.
Politicians of all hues have left it pretty late
in the day before coming to grips with the
problem. When I read of the complaints in
Ontario, they sound remarkably similar to
what I hear in Europe.
What are we to expect when politicians have
treated the health care dilemma in such a
nonchalant manner up until it became a full
blown crisis? I don’t think there is a single
country which, to date, has been able to
resolve the problem. The extra money being
thrown into the system today will be
swallowed as were previous libations and will
result in few if any more efficiencies than
before.
In short, finance ministers have to rethink
the financing of the whole health care system
much more resolutely than they have so far
and they have to share this thinking with the
electorate.
I can’t blame taxpayers on either side of the
ocean for being confused. They have so many
figures thrown at them that it’s impossible to
absorb them.
It would also help if finance ministers would
use bookkeeping practices that voters could
washes ashore.
She was tattered and dishevelled, but she
was clutching a watertight suitcase. Turned out
she was the sole survivor of a cruise ship that
had foundered on a coral reef. As grateful as
she was to have survived, the woman was
amazed at the golfer's story.
“You’ve been marooned here for 10 years?”
she marvelled.
“It’s true,” admitted the castaway.
“Did you used to smoke?” she asked.
“You bet,” says the man. “Why?”
“Well I'm pleased to offer you your first
cigarette in 10 years.” With a smile, the
woman pulled a package of Player’s Filter
from her bag.
“Wow! Thanks a lot!” says the man.
“And were you a drinking man?” asked the
woman.
“I’ve been known to enjoy a glass or two,”
said the man.
“Here you go,” says the woman, hauling a
flask of Five-Star brandy out of her suitcase.
The guy takes a swig of brandy.
“Say,” says the woman, “It must be 10 years
since you, uh....you know.
The golfer’s jaw drops. His eyes bug out.
“Don’t tell me ...” he gasps.
“You mean you’ve got a set of golf clubs in
that bag?”
understand. If one textbook on their shelves is
“How to Lie with Statistics” (such a book does
exist), another must be “Smoke and Mirrors in
presenting the Budget.”
Some of the presentations leave me totally
baffled. I suspect there is a direct relationship
between the level of my bafflement and the
amount of applause by the supporting party.
Have they been let in on the secret?
In one way, budget nights in Canada are
rather staid affairs. Critical comments from
opposition benches in Great Britain are much
more cutting than here while legislators in
such places as Taiwan and Korea have been
known to resort to fisticuffs to get their point
across. The French are the most acerbic in
their comments while budget time in Rome
takes on an Italian version of Gilbert and
Sullivan.
But in one thing Canadians have to be
considered as masterful. Nobody can hide an
impending surplus more brazenly than Paul
Martin who predicted blithely that the next
three budgets would be balanced - not a penny
more, not a penny less. Air Canada planes
coming to this country must be packed with
finance ministers anxious to discover the
secret of predicting precisely balanced budgets
three years running.
I can hear the Latin Americans now saying,
“Senior Martin, just how do you hide such big
surpluses?”
Canadians might well ask the same
question.
i—— — . - - . ■ -----]
A Final Thought
I always try to tum every disasterinto an
opportunity.
- John D. Rockefeller
The
Bugging me
The trials of workday behind you, you drift
out onto the patio. With book and cool
cocktail in hand, you languish, lapping up
summertime like a power vac. Cotton ball
clouds decorate the baby blue sky, while warm
gentle winds massage away all worry.
All is right with the world and the world is
yours.
And then they arrive. Descending into your
placid domain they begin their provoking
dance. Beer bugs drop into your drink and
onto your head. Flies flit in and out, teasing,
tickling, their sole purpose in life seemingly to
annoy. Winged mischief makers they appear
to delight in reminding you are now on their
turf.
I received a rather stinging notice of that the
other day while pulling weeds. Having
unsettled a wasp, I became the target of a dive
bombing attack which after losing left me
humbly, and painfully, reconsidering human
superiority.
It is, after all, a jungle out there, albeit a
small urban one. Particularly in summer, the
season of life, a time to enjoy outdoors at its
best, we find ourselves confronted with more
living, breathing examples of nature than at
other times.
While that may typically be, as,I said
before, on their turf, it occasionally brings
them onto ours. For example, a friend and her
husband have been engaged in a battle of wits
with a chipmunk, currently enjoying free
room and board at their place.
Not a pleasant situation, but at the risk of
sounding like a one-upper, preferable to the
interlopers at the Gropp residence of late.
Surrounded by trees, our big old brick home
with its no-man's-land attic and dank
basement seems to have extended an open
invitation to some nocturnal guests.
A rodent with a bad rep, it may be, but let
me assure you, when you have a bat in your
house its environmental goodness seems
inconsequential.
Over the years we have experienced this
phenomenon on few occasions. Unenjoyable,
perhaps, but livable. This year, however, there
has been an influx. The first was discovered
just over a week ago, in what is basically a
storage room. Understanding that in their
habitat they offer a worthwhile service, my
warrior (no more so than at times like this)
opened doors and turned on lights to try and
get the critter out. Recognizing the good life
we humans enjoy, our foolish friend wouldn't
leave however, so out came the tennis racket.
Two days later, descending to the basement
with a load of laundry I was distracted by a
fan-like thumping which must have created
quite a breeze as I found myself propelled
upstairs. Mark informed me later there were
actually two this time.
Then just days later, I was listening in the
pre-dawn hours to the swishing of the blinds
at the open window of our bedroom. Mark,
however, heard things differently and reality
sent me scurrying under the covers, while he
again went in search of the tennis racket.
There has been some respite in recent days,
but I am on the alert. We don't know what
brought them or allowed them in. What I do
know is if this keeps up, in addition to my
warrior being ready for Wimbledon, I may
soon move out with the bugs.