HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2004-02-19, Page 5Final Thought
THE CITIZEN. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 2004. PAGE 5.
Other Views
Talk about plumbing the depths
Alex Figliolia had it all. A huge (10,000
square feet ) mansion in New Jersey
complete with indoor and outdoor
pizza ovens, not to mention a man-made pond,
an indoor pool and a water fountain in the
courtyard. He had a loving wife whom he
drenched in diamonds and pearls -: also a
$250,000 kitchen reno. He travelled in a limo
with smoked windows and a licence plate that
read MR. FIG.
Not bad. Not bad at all. For a practising
plumber, •
Of course, not every practising plumber has
the New York subway system for a client, and
alas, that is where Mr. Figliolia's cushy ride
began to go off the tracks.
Seems he 'padded' the bills he submitted to.
the New York subway authorities. You -know
those pipe rings you can pick up down at
Canadian Tire for twenty bucks? Figliolia
charged the city $250 each.
He dinged his prize client $26 a pop for what
turned out to be 49-cent fixtures. He submitted
labour claims of $65 an hour.
Meanwhile he paid his workers $64 - per
day.
Naturally, being a plumber, Figliolia was
good at plugging leaks.
Sometimes quite literally. A disgruntled
employee named John Flemming threatened to
blow the whistle on Figliolia's activities.
Mister Flomming's body later turned up in the
trunk of a car in Brooklyn with two extra
orifices in the cranial region.
In any case the party's over. Figliolia, his
wife and even his son Alex Jr. have been
slapped with a 116-count indictment by the
Manhattan district attorney, Robert
Morgenthau.
"Everywhere we looked, we saw fraud," said
Ontario's two most winning politicians
of recent decades are blotting their
reputations in their federal party's
bizarre leadership race for the sake of a few
dollars.
Mike Harris, the only premier to win back-
to-back majorities since the 1960s, and
William Davis, who clung to power through
four consecutive elections, are lending their
support and prestige to Belinda Stronach in the
federal Conservatives' contest.
The 37-year-old former chief executive
officer of the giant auto-parts manufacturing
company, Magna International, founded by her
father Frank, has, many flaws that were known
before she ran and have been emphasized
since.
She has never been elected to any public
office and had only a few occasional chats with
party leaders eager to have her money. Any
riding vice-president has more political
experience.
She is often called a wooden and awkward
speaker. She does not speak French, a
prerequisite to winning Quebec, but says she
will learn. Most aspiring to national leader
would have learned earlier.
She has been slow proposing policies, her
main one being business must be helped to
build a strong economy, which can provide
strong social programs.
When asked the key question whether she
would have sent Canadians to fight in Iraq, she
said she is not an expert on the military and "I
don't want to necessarily comment on what I
would have done."
She refused to join a TV debate among
candidates, presumably afraid of being
compared, although little-known contestants
normally jump at such an opportunity to be
noticed.
Arthur
Black
the DA.
How much fraud? Ten million dollars and
counting.
It's sad to see a bad apple like. Mr. Fig
besmirching the reputation of a noble
profession - plumbers get enough •dissing
already.
You know how it goes. A pipe bursts or a
toilet backs up in the middle of the night and
we're on the phone to the only guy we know
who can fix it.
He comes, he fixes, he bills. We go through
the roof.
Did we think he was working for free?
My favourite plumbing story: a plumber gets
a call to a doctor's home to fix a leaky water
heater. After working for an hour, the plumber
hands the doc a bill for $200.
"Good God, man! " screams the doctor. "I
spent seven years in medical school and
residency and I've been practising medicine
for over 20 years and I can't charge that kind
of money!"
The plumber smiles and says, "Yeah. I
couldn't either when I was in practice."
But mostly plumbers don't get to deliver the
zingers. Mostly they get abuse. And few
tradesmen have been more abused than Los
Angeles plumber John Keating. Last year,
Keating was called to fix a bathroom sink at a
home in Beverly Hills. His knock on the door
The last major candidate who refused to
debate rivals was Tory premier Frank Miller in
an election in 1985. It was held against him
and he lost.
Even despite all this stumbling, Stronach
oddly still could win, because all Tory riding
associations have an equal number of votes,
and those in Quebec, pitifully few members, so
hiring key organizers in each can provide
many votes and she could pay for this like
buying groceries.
There is the further scenario that if third
candidate Tony Clement drops out first, his
supporters will back Stronach to keep out the
furthest right, Stephen Harper.
Some Tory strategists have even suggested if
Stronach wins, their best hope is that an
election will not be. held quickly, which would
give her time to prepare and does not show
them brimming with confidence.
Han-is is a far-right Tory and might have
been expected to support Harper or Clement,
who was an aide and protégé whom he made a
minister.
But Harris helped Stronach open her
campaign headquarters and said she has
enough experience and ideas, and is such a
quick learner she could become an excellent
leader in only a few weeks.
This is not the tack Harris took in his own
career, because he was an MPP for nine years
was answered by a woman. A woman wearing
a leopardskin-print negligee.
Keating is a pro. Eyes fixed firmly on hi \
steel-toed boots, he asked to be directed to the
problem sink. While working on the sink,
Keating could not help overhearing the
stentorian grunts and groans of a couple in the
next room who were apparently not playing
Scrabble. Keating's concentration remained
firmly on his task.
But then, a nearly naked man came streaking
into the bathroom, his clothes under his arm.
The woman's husband had just come home,
the guy gasped.
Would John Keating puh-leeze make believe
that he (the naked guy) was in fact the
plumber's helper? By the time the husband
breaks down the door, Romeo is dressed and
down on all fours inspecting the sink's U-joint.
But suddenly the phony assistant snaps. He
jumps up, announces that he loves the woman.
The husband howls for vengeance. John
Keating puts his arms over his head and
wonders Why Me?
At which point, a TV producer jumps out of
a closet and yells, "Cut!"
The whole scenario was a sham. A Candid
Camera style put-on designed to show
humourously the trials and tribulations of a
plumber's life.
But John Keating didn't laugh, he sued. His
lawyer is seeking megadamages for
"emotional distress...fear, shame, chagrin,
sleeplessness, powerlessness, frustration and
discomfort."
I hear he's asking for $5 million and I hope
he gets it. Although if he doesn't it wouldn't
exactly be a tragedy, I guess.
It's not as if he needs the money. The man's
a plumber.
before he ran for leader and meanwhile
refused opportunities to run in two races.
Davis, who wisely has stayed out of sight
apart from lending his name, is renowned as a
moderate whose policies do not suggest he
would back a candidate from big business.
Davis also rated experience highly and
normally did not appoint ministers unless they
had served on his backbenches, a noted
exception being Roy McMurtry, a friend since
university who became a dominating attorney
general and chief justice.
Both Harris and Davis with all their
experience also turned down many calls to run
for federal leader.
But the two former premiers have another
link in having been given lucrative
directorships on the board of Stronach's
Magna.
Being beholden may have led them to tell
Stronach what she wanted to hear, that she
could start at the top and did not need to get
elected at a lower level and work her way up.
as they did, which could be a disservice to
someone wanting to enter politics.
Even worse, the former premiers are eying
to elect a candidate from whom they have
received pay — is this the way to choose a
leader?
Older men declare war. But it is youth that
must fight and die. And it is youth who must
inherit the tribulation, the sorrow and the
triumphs that are the aftermath of war.
— Herbert C. Hoover
Bonnie
Gropp
The short of it
I have my ways
February's a moody month. Its chilly
\A Inds blow through you, while its
advancing sun warms the bitter bite in
your bones. It can bring gloomy dampness or
beaming brilliance to your day.
February teases. It is respite after a harsh
January, but still many harsh days from
spring's promise.
And thus we have the notorious February
blahs. People get down in the dumps. They
hurt physically. They're tired, grumpy, bored.
Let's face it, this month doesn't offer much
in compensation. There's no long weekend, no
big celebration, no family tradition.
Groundhog's Day is much ado about nothing.
Valentine's Day, though wonderfully
romantic, is (come on be honest) a little silly.
Pay it notice, but it's hardly going to beat the
blues.
So many make the decision to break up their
winter with a little sojourn to the sunny climes.
Soaking up the sun in destinations south will
pamper you and shorten winter. It's the ideal
solution.
For some. Each year as the north winds blow
and the world turns white, my hubby and I are
approached by well-intentioned sun seekers
who feel we must make the trip with them.
"Let's drink in the sun and the rum in Jamaica.
You'll love it," "Join us in the Dominican. You
need it." "We're off to Cuba. Why not come
along? It will be good for you."
And while that may all prove to be true, the
funny thing is that despite my distaste for
winter, I really have no desire to find out.
Never likely to be accused of being financially
cautious, I surprise myself by i 6nsidering the
extravagance of such a trip. And no matter
what the argument, I just can't justify the
expense.
I am no explorer. I'm not particularly
interested in filling hours with discovery.
Sigh -seeing is fine, but I prefer it at a
minimum. Not to mention, some of the places
to which people travel, are best left unseen.
Also, I'm no thrill-seeker, so there's no
snorkelling, bungee jumping or surfing for me.
I work hard for my money, and I work hard
at home. Life is busy and there is little time for
down time. Therefore, when I am on vacation
I expect to, and will do, nothing. The most
ambitious activity for me is a daily long walk.
Therefore, should I travel south, it would be
to sit on the beach and read a book. I can
achieve similar pleasure by a motel pool for a
lot less money.
It's not that I'm a miser. It'§ not that I
begrudge anyone else their enjoyment of
southern climates. I quite understand why it's
something they want to do. If I could walk
around the corner and find sun, sand and surf,
feel balmy breezes and catch relaxing rays, I'd
do it in a heartbeat.
So, yes, I understand their reasons. I just
wish they would understand mine. Each time
I'm asked, and each time I say no, means
another round of convincing. That there are
people disinclined to fly south is apparently
inconceivable. There was actually one person
after hearing me say "no thanks I have no
desire," who told me that yes I did.
I know their intentions are well meant, but
they really don't have to worry. When it comes
to beating the blahs I do have my ways.
And for the cost of a week south, I can do a
lot of shopping, chocolate savouring, deep
breathing, re-decorating, wine sipping, book
reading and bubble bathing, with money to
spare.
Ex-premiers tarnish imag es