HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2004-04-15, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, APRIL 15, 2004. PAGE 5
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That Polly and her potty mouth
Q
ueen Elizabeth will be spared meeting
one member of the crew when she
steps aboard a Royal Navy frigate next
month.
The HMS Lancaster is scheduled to receive
an official visit from Her Majesty, and the
captain, Commander Paul Chivers, doesn't
want Able Seaman Sunny Grey on deck to
screw things up. He's being sent ashore for the
duration of the royal visit.
It's not that Sunny's a troublemaker. He's
popular with the crew, always good for a
laugh. and like any seasoned tar, he's used to
living in a confined space.
In fact, Sunny spends most of his hitch
aboard HMS Lancaster behind bars,
The bars of a birdcage. He's a parrot.
How much damage can a ball of feathers do
to a royal entourage? Plenty, if it's got a mouth
on it.like Sunny.
The bird has spent rather too much time
eavesdropping on the casually scatological and
blasphemous conversations of his fellow sailors.-
To put it bluntly. he cusses like a, well, sailor,
He's also an excellent mimic. Commander
Chivers and his crew can visualize only too
well a scenario where Prince Phillip leans into
the -cage and murmurs something like "Who's
a pretty bird, then?". only to be greeted with a
squawked. "Bollocks! I'll have yer arse for
that, milad!"
I'm sure the zealots at People for the Ethical
Treatment of Animals will be filing an official
grievance on behalf of Sunny, but I'm with
Commander Chivers on this one. I think it's
right and prudent that Sunny be piped ashore
for the duration of the visit. As a matter of fact
if I was walking the bridge, we'd probably set
sail without him. •
I'm mostly an animal-friendly guy. I like
most dogs, some cats. every elephant I've ever
met, and I'm open-minded about horses, duck-
billed platypi and blue tailed skinks.
Premi•
er Dalton McGuinty's Liberal
party is one in which its MPPs
don't talk back. If any of them have
opinions on any subject that differ even
slightly from those of the premier and his
cabinet, they so far have been unwilling to
show it.
A prime example was when the opposition
New Democrats and Progressive
Conservatives proposed a committee_ of the
legislature should look into the actions of
Finance Minister Greg Sorbara.
Sorbara had been a director until named to
cabinet in October. of a company that police
tax collectors and the Ontario Securities
Commission, which oversees stock trading,
later announced they are investigating.
This is not the scandal of the century, but
McGuinty thought Sorbara was risking
conflict enough to relieve him of his
responsibilities for overseeing the OSC and
stock market and give them to another
minister. -
The opposition parties -thought this was a
sizeable enough issue to be discussed by a
committee of the legislature.
The Liberals in opposition wanted
committees to look into almost every breath of
Tory ministers and would have requested a
committee' hearing or judicial enquiry if one
mislaid a key to the cabinet washroom.
The proposal to - discuss Sorbara also
provided a test of a famous Liberal promise in
the election to bring new democracy to
politics. •
McGuinty lamented MPPs had been
downgraded from respected representatives of
the public to mere bit players manipulated into
Arthur
Black
But parrots? Sorry, Polly. We belong on
separate planets.
I know that I'm being irrational about this.
My parrotophobia is based on my experience
with a single bird. Sydney, his name was.
Sydney was nominally a South African Grey
like Sunny. although I came to think of him as
a demon in plumage.
Sydney came into my home at a time when I
had 'way more money than brains!' I paid an
obscene amount of loot for the bird, bought a
cage that was roomier than some apartments
I've rented, lay in a great store of crackers.
mirrors, bells, miniature ladders and other
assorted avian gewgaws.
And proceeded to have my home life utterly
ruined.
Sydney, you see, shrieked. Randomly, often
and apparently apropos of nothing. He
shrieked to be let out of the cage, whereupon
he shrieked to be let back in. He shrieked for
apple slices and parrot treats which he then
strewed around the living room.
Between shrieks. Understand that we are not
talking about a mere, loud caterwauling
scream here.
Sydney's shriek could shatter crystal,
stampede cattle and cause strong men to
whimper uncontrollably.
Sydney was loud. He could make you bleed
from the ears.
Sydney had other endearing qualities.
Although he turned up his beak at the
outrageously expensive gourmet treats
doing premiers' bidding.
He promised when he became premier,
Liberal MPPs would be free to present their
own views and not just parrot those of their
party.
This seemed an ideal opportunity for Liberal
backbenchers to show they have cast off their
chains and are independent of party bosses.
The two Tories and one New Democrat on
the committee voted to discuss the issue and it
might be thought at least one of the six
Liberals on it would have considered it worth
debating.
They might even have felt the grounds for
exonerating Sorbara are so strong it would end
the questioning about it that has gone on, day
after day, once and for all.
But all six Liberals without embarrassment
voted against holding a debate and none will
be held.
They hung their refusal particularly on a
ruling Sorbara sought on specific issues
and obtained from the legislature's
integrity commissioner, Mr. Justice Coulter A.
Osborne.
This focused on two narrow concerns —
whether Sorbara was in a conflict because,
once the OSC informed him of its
offered him, he was quite delighted with my
taste in wallpaper which he tore off in long
irreplaceable strips. He also like to feast on the
oak wainscoting that used to adorn my living
room and to dive bomb my dog Rufus, who
became quite unhinged during Sydney's reign.
My cat, which had grown up in a barn
surrounded by chickens, geese and ducks,
wouldn't even come in the house as long as
Sydney was there.
Which wasn't long, mercifully. I knew I had
to take steps when I caught Sydney chewing on
a lamp cord one day and didn't stop him,
hoping that one more chomp and 212 volts in
the craw would fricassee the feathered fiend
and end his nightmare regime. I came to my
senses, put Sydney in his cage and took him
back to the pet store.
I'd suppressed that ugly chapter of my life
until i read about Sunny, the Royal Navy
parrot with the foul beak. Memories of Sydney
bubbled up out 'of my subconscious and I
realized that just about the only bad habit
Sydney DIDN'T have was a filthy mouth.
Just a loud one.
Reminds me of the story of a religious
woman who brought home a parrot one day
only to discover the bird knew swear words
that would make Sunny the naval parrot blush.
She tried shaking her finger at him; she tried
yelling at him. She even threw a blanket over
the cage. The bird cursed louder.
Finally in exasperation she grabbed the
parrot by the neck. wrenched open her freezer
and flung him in.
After a minute she opened the lid. There
stood her parrot, meek and shivering.
"I must apologize for my abominable
behaviour." the parrot said humbly. "I was
abusive and thoughtless and I assure you it will
never happen again."
"Just as a matter of curiosity, may I ask what
the turkey did?"
investigation, he waited two months before
relinquishing supervision of the OSCI and
notifying the premier.
Osborne concluded if Sorbara had divested
himself of responsibility for the OSC earlier, it
would have caused frenzied speculation about
the reason and his decision not to inform
McGuinty was a judgment call and not a
conflict.
But these are only one person's opinions
and integrity commissioners have a history of
being kind to government.
MPPs also are entitled to look into deeper
issues, including whether Sorbara as a director
and chair of the company's audit committee
knew anything of the events being investigated
or was negligent in not knowing.
Or whether he approved its top executives
doubling their take-home pay while the
company's stock prices were collapsing —
these are things the public would like to know
about the minister charged with safeguarding
its finances.
Liberal MPPs who failed at the first hurdle
when it came to showing MPPs can be
independent are proving even more docile than
their predecessors.
Tory premier Mike Harris was domineering
and dictatorial, but one of his MPPs, Toni
Skarica, told him to shove his job and resigned
his seat, after Harris broke a promise not to
amalgamate municipalities.
Bill Murdoch told Harris his cabinet v, as full
of yes-men and another Tory, Gary Carr, said
Ernie Eves had such little respect for the public
he did not deserve to be re-elected. Liberal
MPriftem to believe their job is to do as they
are told.
Best footforward
Remember when Easter was the time
to bring out your fancy new spring
duds?
Like spring blossoms bursting forth after a
winter of white and grey, people were keen to
don fresh hues, fancy dress and put their best
foot forward. The whole family was looking
their best for the trip to church on Easter
morning. Breezily-coloured ties for the gents,
spiffy hats and gloves for the gals. I still see a
little girl tremendously excited about her new
white plastic purse and shoes, her little white
hat with the pastel ribbon and bow and a dress
so cheery it melted away any tenacious chill
left over from winter.
It was like that for many occasions actually.
People dressed up to go out. Dressy attire
changed the mundane to exciting, made
events stand out from the every day.
But that was then, and this is now. People
don't worry about dressing to the nines for
many things these days. You see jeans at a
wedding, slacks and sweaters at church.
Surprisingly, this past weekend's Easter
showing of slacks and sweaters made me a
little nostalgic for the natty attire of old.
Years ago style wasn't something you had,
it was more about what you wore — and when
you wore it. The rules were simpler. People
dressed for the occasion, even a holiday
family dinner.
My mother still does. The rest of us.
however, only make somewhat of an effort,
which generally means putting on one of our
better pairs of slacks. And in my case, shoes.
You see. personally, if I have a style, it
would probably be called laid back. I blame
most of this on hitting my adolescent stride in
the late 1960s when hair was straight, feet
were bare and shirts were tie-dyed The result
is that over 30 years later I am dreadfully
uncomfortable when my hair looks 'done'. I
detest shoes. And I don't go for tailored or
feminine.
So, I feel like an imposter when I have to
dress up, a peasant doing her best to play the
part of a princess, but falling far short of
succeeding. Thus, with a wedding coming up
this summer, you can imagine the turmoil I'm
in. My carefree mop isn't exactly mother of
the groom fashion and searching for an
appropriate dress, I have already determined,
will be hopeless. You will never find me in
those stiff organza numbers that scream "this
is the chick who gave birth to one of those
kids at the front of the church."
All that said, however, the position does
require a certain elegance, so I shall soon
begin a search. The funny thing about this
shopping experience that I already know, is
that once I get past the frustration I'll have a
good time.There is a secret pleasure in the fact
there are some occasions that force me to be a
-little less laissez faire about my approach to
fashion.
When you think about it, our : casual,
repetitive attitude toward fashion has sort of
taken the word occasion out of the picture. If
we dress the same as we do any other day
there's a certain festiveness missing from
those special times.
So while I may not have pulled out the stops
for Easter, I will take a positive approach to
decking myself out , for this summer's
wedding. I will find the perfect dress, stylish
but uncontrived, classy, but understated
And hopefully something I can wear with
Birkenstocks.
Liberal MPPs don't talk back