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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2000-07-19, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, JULY 19, 2000. PAGE 5. Other Views Please get along, little dogie! Reinember Rawhide'? Perhaps it was before your time, it was a TV western, really big back in the early 60s, all about a gaggle of cowboys who drove cattle across the west and the adventures that befell them in the doing of it. Rawhide was primarily notable as the debut vehicle for a lean, squinty-eyed newcomer by the name of Clint Eastwood. The other thing that’s remarkable about it is that, as a program concept, Rawhide would never make it off the drawing board today. Are you kidding? It was about cattle drives. The cowpokes in the show used to whoop and yell and wave their Stetsons and lasso stray calves and gallop after runaways. The theme song was a punchy, up-tempo ditty with lyrics that went “Move 'em on, git 'em up, git 'em upanove 'em on, move 'em on, git 'em up, Rawhiae (whip crack)’’ Wrong, wrong, All wrong. Cowboys don't drive cattle anymore. Not in this age of caring and empathy. The old and evil cattle drives have been replaced by 'holistic herding'. Also known as 'low stress livestock management’. And how does that work exactly? Well, for starters, the Born Again cowboys no long whoop and holler and gallop. Instead they coo and whisper and take extra care to make no sudden movements that might alarm or discomfit their four-footed charges. Instead of 'driving’ a steer in any given direction, the ex-cowboy-turned-emotion­ counsellor gently moves into the steers ‘space’, then backs off when the steer moves towards him. And the animals are never, ever approached Every country has white elephants I’m sure that any reader can think of some project that comes under the heading of a white elephant. For me the prime example in this country is Mirabel, the huge airport northwest of Montreal which was supposed to lead the city out of the 20th century and into the 21st. One of my sons and I were there one time and in the hour we spent looking around we watched the grand total of two aircraft take off. Recently the government admitted failure, not to mention pressure from the airlines and moved all the scheduled international flights to Dorval, where they were in the first place. I shudder to think how many billion dollars the whole thing cost the taxpayer. Other countries have their white elephants and one of the whitest is Britain and its Millennium Dome which was recently built in London, England with the encouragement of the current prime minister Tony Blair. Like Mirabel it already comes under the category of bottomless pits with regards to money. If the Dome has not been the subject of a lively conversation at the supper table in your home recently, let me bring you up to date and you can match it with your favourite useless project. The Dome was designed and constructed as a tourist attraction to show tourists as well as the British all that was admirable about the island country. It would, said Prime Minister Blair, be “the greatest show on earth.” About this time last year, while the project was still under construction, it was predicted that I I million visitors would drop in to see the exhibits and even the queen was dragooned into appearing at its opening ceremonies at the from the rear. You think I'm making this up, don't you. Well, I’m not. According to Steve Cote, a spokesman for the U.S. Natural Resource Conservation Service "low stress livestock handling is changing the whole face of the west.” I can see where if cattle had the votes, they’d poll solidly in favour of New Age Wrangling, but what’s in it for the cowpokes? “It’s hard to believe at first,” says Cote, “but the results are there for everyone to see - the cattle are happier, healthier and more obedient if they are not shouted at or subjected to stress. They tend to stay together and not wander away, and consequently life is easier for the cowboys”. Cote even claims that the cattle will even accept being branded if they are talked to gently - which I find a little hard to believe. I've never actually had a piece of white-hot metal bearing a rancher’s monogram slammed into my naked haunch, but I’m pretty sure no amount of sweet talk would persuade me that it was a good idea. If these sensitive New Age cowpunchers care about their cattle so much, why don’t they deep-six the branding irons and break out the Magic Markers? Still, holistic herding does look like an idea whose time has come. Raymond Canon The International Scene beginning of the year. She probably regrets the day she ever set foot in it. Despite poor advance sales, the prediction of 11 million visitors was still being trumpeted on opening day. A month later it was reduced to 10 million but to date only two million have passed through the turnstiles. The prediction has now been reduced to six million, but everyone expects that to be lowered as the year progresses. What about the cost, you may ask? Well you might! TO date the elephant (oops, project) has cost close to $2.5 billion Canadian and the management has just gone to the Lottery Commission which is in charge of it for an additional $80 million. Nobody is quite sure how long that will last. So bad is the financial picture that, instead of leaving it open for all of 2000, there is talk of closing down the thing in September after the tourist season is over. However, that will entail breaking a lot of contracts and such an act will, Final Thought What’s the use? Yesterday an egg, tomorrow a feather duster. - Mark Fenderson Predictably, a lot of the old ranch hands thing it’s so much longhom puckie, but the men who pay their salaries are singing a different tune. Horace Smith is a rancher who runs a 17,000 hectare spread on the Nevada/Idaho border. “It's not easy for a lot of (the cowboys)” says Smith, “but times are changing and they have to change with them.” “And,” Smith adds bluntly, “if the cowboys don’t want to change and do it our way then we don’t want them.” Oh, I can see a lot of change heading due westward. Language alone is going to have to get a lot more sensitive. Perhaps cattle drovers will be issued with name tags that say “Hi, I’m Wilbur, your personal Travel Facilitator”. 'Cattle drives’ could be renamed 'ambulatory inter-species be-ins’. And what's to be done with those macho, decidedly uncool rodeos? Well, I suppose the calf roping portion could be re-designated as rotating seminars On Coping With Externally Imposed Restraints. The bucking bronco section might be overhauled and presented as “Equine applications of Newtonian Physics, or, What Goes Up Must Come Down.” All I know is, I'm glad John Wayne moseyed off to the Last Roundup before holistic herding rode into town. I don’t think the Duke could have handled the whole dadbumed concept. But who knows? Maybe John Wayne had his sensitive side too. After all, his real name was Marion Morrison. And I'm not making that up, either. according to current estimates, run into about one quarter to one half a billion dollars. In much the same fashion as the Walkerton water scandal, fingers are being pointed in all directions. About the only thing missing is a class action suit but that, too, may come when British lawyers bone up on this American creation. Every visitor who passes through the turnstiles has to be subsidized to the tune of $235 which makes it a monstrous elephant if ever there was one. As the building is only slated to remain open for one year at the most, it will be sold on the open market, but even the most optimistic bids will probably not be high enough to reduce much of this giant cost overrun. If there was a section in the Guiness Book of Records for the most expensive white elephant, both Mirable and the Dome would be somewhere near the top, surely a dubious honour if ever there was one. Letter Continued from page 4 accomplishing these goals, the plan also promises to be affordable, simple, practical and reliable. 1 would strongly encourage any interested parties to make their thoughts and concerns known. Opinions can be expressed either directly to the Department of Agriculture and Agn-Food, the Canadian Food Inspection Agency or my office. Further information on this subject can be attained through any of the aforementioned. Sincerely, Paul Steckle, MP Huron-Bruce. Bonnie Gropp The short of it Finding splendour in the grass The other day I walked barefoot in the grass. No big deal, you say? I would probably be inclined to agree as there is seldom a day ends without grass stains on my soles. Shoes are, and always have been a very expendable part of my wardrobe. However, on this particular day, for some reason instead of taking this familiar sensation for granted, I actually found myself thinking about it. Really focussing on what I felt. I noted first, the cushiony padding under my feet, its lush softness. I enjoyed a certain tickling comfort as the soft prickliness of the blades brushed against my skin. There was no doubt. It felt good. Life is, I decided splendour in the grass. How many times from the philosophers of life are we reminded to kick off our shoes and walk barefoot through the grass? Walking barefoot you are unrestrained, carefree. There is too a naturalness, a childlike feeling of innocence and abandon. It’s this quality that makes it a prescription to soothe the soul, a practice suggested to the over-worked, hassled and harried. Truly wise people know that life was never better than when you were a child, when every experience was new, when we were confined by fewer societal rules and expectations. Revisiting those times, whether barefoot or other ways, can put things into their proper perspective. This past week I spent some time with the child in me. It was at a favourite toy store where people are encouraged to touch and try out the wares. There is an eclectic mix, an atmosphere of fun that shakes up the giggles even in the most sedate adult. My young friend and I giggled plenty, and 1 was back when fife was always, or at least in retrospect, easy. Holding a Jacob's ladder in my hand, I was suddenly seven ?ears old again. Maybe the innocent wonder has been long absent, but maneuvering the small blocks, listening to the click-clack, watching them flip­ flop was mindlessly mesmerizing. And fun. Certainly not the kind of action children today look for; my kids when I once demonstrated how the toy works, were only mildly interested, and this was primarily, I assume, for my sake. Because for someone who remembers when fun could be a stick, a string and a muddy creek, discovering a Jacob’s ladder is a reminder of such simple entertainment. And with that childlike enjoyment comes relaxation. As it was with my barefoot journey, I felt freer. The worries, the stresses that tend to rise up in everyone’s life were, for this time, gone. The nostalgia worked its magic as I laughed at little things and found ingenuous wonder in the items before me. I wanted to see them all and try them all. It was so therapeutic, I couldn’t help but notice its effect on me. My step back to childhood was refreshing. I truly felt younger and certainly less hassled and harried. When I walked out the door, I knew there was a lightness to my step that had not been there before. It's a feeling you like to keep. So I got home, kicked off my shoes and took a nice long stroll through the grass.