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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2000-10-04, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2000. PAGE 5. Other Views How to outheckle hecklers One of the things I do when I’m not playing hunt and peck with my computer keyboard is speechify. Which is to say I stand up on my hind legs in front of roomfuls of strangers and try to make them laugh. It’s not an unpleasant gig, once you get over stage sweats. Public speakers get to travel all over the country; you meet a ton of folks you otherwise wouldn’t, plus you get a nice speaker's fee and usually a free dinner out of the deal. Of course there is a downside to making public speeches. It is called The Heckler. It’s an uncommon breed, but there only needs to be one of them in an audience of hundreds to ruin a speaker’s evening. Contrary to the aura of easy confidence good speakers exude, they’re usually sweating bullets up there. Fear of public speaking is the number one phobia * ‘way ahead of fear of heights and fear of snakes. When a speech is going well, the speaker is like a tightrope walker - still scared, but getting across. When some buffoon in the third row yells something, it’s like having your tightrope wobble. You know you are millimeters away from freefall. Fortunately, hecklers tend to belong to one of two subspecies: stoned or stunned. A drunken heckler usually has just the one arrow in his quiver. Once that’s shot, he’s roadkill. The stupid ones are more difficult. For one thing, they don’t appreciate how stupid they are. Luckily, the audience usually does. Audiences, by and large, are incredibly Separation you ask? No thanks! When I was working in the Czech Republic, about the only news I read about Canada over there was of the possibility of a separation by the province of Quebec. This was of a certain interest to the Czechs since they and the Slovaks had separated earlier in the decade and, in so doing, had broken up the country of Czechoslovakia. They had done this without any referendum which made the act that much more unique. What, they asked me, were the chances of something like that actually happening in Canada? In spite of the close vote of the last referendum, my answer was that I did not think if likely since there was a similar situation in Switzerland, compounded by the fact that there are two linguistic groups which are also minorities and which speak an official language of the countries. Just as there is no Canadian language, so there is no Swiss language. Here we speak French and English as official languages, there French, Italian and German are the official ones. The German-speaking Swiss far outnumber the other groups. About 70 per cent of all Swiss have German as their mother tongue, about 20 per cent speak French and about nine per cent use Italian. The other one per cent speak Romansch, a Latin dialect which is a national but not an official language. All laws etc. must be handed down in all three official languages and at no time is one considered a translation of the other. So the French and the Italian Swiss are like the French-Canadians; they are a distinct minority. Does it bother them? Well, when I am there, I frequently hear my French- speaking cousins mumbling about the German Swiss running the country since it is the latter that really decide any referendum that takes place. The same thing happens in Ticino, the Italian-speaking canton of the country. forgiving organisms. They don't like hecklers any more than the speaker does. And if the speaker says something - pretty much anything - that puts the heckler in his place, the audience will rise and cheer as one. I’ve never found the perfect squelch for hecklers but other speakers have handled the situation deftly. Some boob once made the mistake of interrupting David Letterman in mid-monologue. Letterman paused, surveyed the heckler through hooded eyes and murmured, “What exactly is on your mind, if you’ll excuse the exaggeration?” I know a stand-up comedian who skewers males (hecklers are almost always male and isn’t that a surprise) with “Ah! Good to see you again, back in men’s clothing.” If he doesn’t feel like toying with the heckler he dismisses him with, “I’m sorry sir, I don’t speak alcoholic.” Or, “You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t know how to deal with you. I’m a comedian, not a proctologist.” And if he’s really ticked off, he yells at the heckler, “Save your breath. You’ll need it to inflate your date later.” Crude retorts, but we live in crude times. Our ancestors, not surprisingly, handled Raymond Canon The International Scene A few years ago the French speaking Swiss living in the northern part of the Canton of Bern got so upset at what they considered to be shoddy treatment that they voted to separate but only from the Canton. They set up their own, called Jura, where they now happily solve all their problems in French. Don’t forget that both the Italian and French- speaking Swiss can stand at the border and hear their language being spoken in Italy and France respectively. (Which is far more than the French Canadians can claim). However, as to the question as to whether they would ever think of separating to be a new country or else join Italy or France, the answer would be “Are you kidding?” All complaints aside, these minority Swiss know when they are well off and they feel every bit as Swiss as their German-speaking countrymen. Admittedly I speak all three of their national languages but I can honestly say that I feel equally at home in Switzerland regardless of what part of the country I am in. In one respect I am perhaps welcomed more warmly in Ticino, since the Italian Swiss (like all Italians) find German to be a tough language to get their tongues around and are delighted when someone like myself talks to them in Italian. But it is my opinion that the French Canadians in general feel somewhat the same way about Canada as the French/Italian Swiss do about Switzerland. They realize how beneficial it is to be part of a prosperous country and are unwilling to give it up totally for an unknown future. I sometimes wish the politicians would give it a rest. hecklers with much better grace. The author Charles Lamb was once interrupted during a reading by a heckler who hissed at him. ■Lamb paused, skewered the interloper with his eyes and purred: “There are only three creatures that hiss: a goose, a snake and a fool. Stand forth so that we may identify you.” Sir Robert Menzies, one-time prime minister of Australia, was once beset at a political rally by a woman heckler. “I wouldn’t vote for you if you were the Archangel Gabriel!” she shrieked. Menzies calmly replied “If I were the Archangel Gabriel, madam, you would scarcely be in my constituency.” Ah, but my all time favourite heckler put- down sprang from the lips of a British political troublemaker by the name of John Wilkes. Mister Wilkes stepped on a lot of toes during his 18th century political career - including a pair of bunioned beauties attached to the Earl of Sandwich. Wilkes and the Earl cordially loathed each other and took every opportunity to so testify. One evening after a boozy dinner the Earl rounded on Wilkes and thundered “Egad, Wilkes! I have often wondered what catastrophe would bring you to your end. I think that you shall die of the pox (i.e. syphilis) or the noose.” And quick as a cobra, Wilkes stood up, smiled silkily and retorted: “That would depend, My Lord, on whether I embraced your mistress or your principles.” I’d give up my speaker’s fee to get off a squelch like that. My wife usually claims that it takes us twice as long to go 200 kms in Quebec as it does in any other province. I find the people there very hospitable, and enjoy talking to them. They are like the French and Italians in Switzerland, and want to get on with earning a living. As a rest’t they have little time for pie-in-the-sky policies. Back to the Czechs and Slovaks, they never even had the luxury of holding a referenaum on the subject. The government decided for them. Even today there are a goodly number on both the Czech and Slovak sides of the border that believe that the dividing up of the country was no good thing. But they, too, have to get on with their living. Letter Letters to the editor are a forum for public opinion and comment. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of this publication. THE EDITOR, In response to a letter to the editor of a few weeks ago on the subject of safety and sports- related injuries, did you know that there are people trained in first aid that volunteer to come to ball games, etc.? they are members of the St. John Ambulance. There is also a course to teach people how to use first aid skills and common sense if an accident occurs. It would be wonderful if the coaches and/or referees had their St. John Ambulance standard first aid certificate. And in, every equipment bag, along with the bats and balls, there should be a first aid kit. One that contains the supplies you might need for a sports-related injury. A little knowledge can go a long way It’s a very practical and useful course for anyone and everyone to take. Get in touch with your local St. John Ambu’^nce. Debbie Trollope Brussels St. John Ambulance. Bonnie Gropp The short of it Getting organized It has long baffled me that young people are expected at such an unworldly age to know what they want to do when they grow up. After all, like so many other adults I have talked to I'm still not sure what I want to do when 1 grow up. That is until the other day, with a not altogether serious comment made by me during a conversation with a friend. It began with a description of a rather erratic day in my life, erratic primarily because of the poor planning of others. I am nothing if not organized. I plan, I arrange. Thus knowing that my annual trip to the physician would quite likely eat into a good chunk of my work day, I decided to use a day in lieu of and take off work. My appointment was set for 10:30 a.m. and I arrived promptly. However, as I backed into a parking space, I spied my doctor walking across the street to the hospital. Oh, oh. At the reception desk I was informed that he was indeed on call that day and had just gone to “emerge”. She didn’t know how long he would be but suffice it to say there would be a wait. Well, never having gone to the doctor when I didn’t have to wait, I really wasn’t all that concerned, even though I had a date with my folks for lunch and another appointment at 1:15, 20 miles away. Finding a magazine to engross me, I couldn’t help, however, noting the clock as the minutes steadily clicked by, and doing some regular cyphering to see if all my engagements could still be met. I watched people come and go, even my doctor whom I first glimpsed back in the building at about 11. Admittedly, what he was doing was a mystery to rre, because this ear’y in the day, how far behind could he have gotten? It was 11:45 when my name was called and after a perfunctorily thorough examination by my physician I had only my blood work left at 12:15. Unfortunately the lab folks had left for lunch so I would have to come back in 45 minutes or make another visit. Deciding my blood would still be there for the pricking another fime, I departed to enjoy a hasty visit with my parents then flew to my next destination, I’m mildly ashamed to say, wary of white cars and men in blue uniforms. Now, I have never before minded waiting at the doctor’s office and even this day was not annoyed. Knowing that there is very little about a physician’s life that’s routine, it should be expected. However, I would have to say I was puzzled. What puzzled me, and it was this I mentioned to my friend, is why they would schedule a time-consuming annual check-up on a day that that physician was on call. Whoever said lack of planning on your part does not an emergency make on mine, obviously never visited their physician. Perhaps, there are things of whi^h I am not aware with regards to how the scheduling is done, but would it be that difficult to determine in advance whose turn it is to be on call, then book appointments accordingly? Taking the time to get organized is actually a nice thing to do for other people. I believe it could be done, even in a doctor’s office, I said to my friend. And then the lightbulb went on. It was then that I realized the perfect job for me, something that would make me very happy - I will organize the rest of the world.