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THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2005. PAGE 5.
The conflict of nudes and prudes
For me, one of the great pie-in-the-face
moments for the execrable Political
Correctness movement occurred on the
steps of Toronto City Hall in the spring of
1991.
That is when Toronto mayor June Rowlands
announced, with a sniff and a huff, that she
was canceling the scheduled performance of
an up-and-coming band in Toronto’s Nathan
Phillips Square.
Reason? The band’s name. It was
‘unacceptable’.
It was a hilariously defining moment for the
careers of both mayor Rowlands and the band.
The Barenaked Ladies became instantly and
internationally famous; June Rowlands was on
her way to being laughed out of public office.
Now you would think a Keystone Kops-
style boner like that would resonate in council
chambers across the country. You would
assume that public administrators from
Carbonear to Qualicum would pause and look
nervously over their shoulder before
committing a similar civic bungle.
But no. Instead, we have Mayor David Perry
of Penticton. The city in the South Okanagan
hit the headlines recently over a piece of
publicly commissioned art that now stands in
the middle of a roundabout at the entrance to
the city's marina area. It’s by a local artist and
it consists of a life-size sculpture of a man
holding a suitcase and surrounded by 24 other
suitcases.
So far, so good. But curiously (and
calamitously for mayor Perry) the man is
naked.
Recent premiers leave unhappy
Another Ontario premier has had
difficulty making a graceful exit, but
this now almost goes with the job.
The last five premiers, including Ernie Eves
have left in varying degrees of ignominy and
none has departed still high in public esteem
since William Davis in 1985.
One obvious conclusion is being a premier
is getting tougher and the glory days are over.
Eves’s departure was ignominious first
because he lost an election after only 18
months as premier and his Progressive
Conservative party has dominated for half-a-
century and expects to be in government as if
it had paid for a lease.
Eves also hung on to his legislature seat his
party needs for its new leader while he angled
for some sort of post, preferably public, and
eventually some in his party said publicly it
was time to go.
Eves ironically is much worthier than these
misadventures suggest. He was solid and
respected as house leader and finance minister
under premier Mike Harris and articulate
enough to make his cases better - Harris
would not have worn out his welcome as
quickly if he had Eves’s comfort with words.
But Eves took over when their party’s
popularity had fallen dramatically, particularly
because Harris weakened services to pay for
tax cuts. Eves had no chance of winning
because voters already had decided to change
and has to be admired for not blaming others.
Eves also might be forgiven for hoping to
have some role in which he could show he is
made of better stuff because former premiers
have been given posts by Ontario or federal
governments.
Eves joined a rapidly growing list of recent
premiers who left with their reputations
tarnished. Harris, immensely popular when
starting his tax-cutting, lost respect also for his
abrasive style, which included calling a
leading Liberal an “asshole.”
The public and even some Tories concluded
Vienna could handle this. London wouldn’t
notice. Paris would yawn. Even Toronto the
Good would get on board.
But Penticton, if mayor Perry’s reaction is
any indication, is on the brink of social
meltdown. Responding to the mayor's
objections, the artist welded a square steel
plate across the sculpture’s naughty bits.
This of course immediately focused
everyone’s attention on the figure’s midsection
and made the whole work look ridiculous.
But some people are more comfortable with
ridicule than nudity and mayor Perry would
appear to be among that number.
“Penticton is not as open to such nude
artworks as Toronto and other large cities,” the
mayor said.
If it’s any consolation, nude prudery is not a
Canadian phenomenon. Shortly after John
Ashcroft was named U.S. attorney general, he
ordered $10,000 worth of heavy blue drapes to
hide a bare-breasted statue under which
attorneys general had been giving press
conferences since 1936.
“The White House agreed to cover it up,’
quipped David Letterman, “so they got out one
of J. Edgar Hoover’s old dresses.”
Eric
Dowd
From
Queens Park
he served a purpose, but they were better off
without him.
New Democrat premier Bob Rae remains
admired across party lines for his intellect, but
the public voted him out because he piled up
$10 billion deficits.
He lost support even in his party because of
acts that included forcing civil servants to take
unpaid time off to save money, and
abandoning long-cherished goals such as
public auto insurance. The party made no
secret it wanted him to go quickly so it could
start wooing back unions and others he had
alienated.
Liberal premier David Peterson lost both an
election and his seat, so there was no
possibility his party would want him to stay.
Many Liberals also lost no time blaming
him because he called an election a year early
claiming he needed a new mandate to lead the
province on national unity and few believed
him.
Tory Frank Miller left under the burden,
hard to live down, of losing the government
his party had held as if it were private property
for four decades.
Former rivals for leader refused him another
chance and squabbling among Tories helped
Final Thought
The most important work you and I will
ever do will be within the wall of our own
homes.
- Harold B. Lee
What is it about North Americans and
simple, uncomplicated nudity? We can
watch firefights in Fallujah in prime time,
televised corpse counts from fire, flood and
famine and NHL goons knocking each other’s
teeth out. But the glimpse of a breast or a
buttock?
Eek!
Europeans must just shake their heads.
1 am reminded of an interview with a French
artist by the name of Louise Bourgeois, who
was born in France but moved to the United
States. The interviewer asked her to explain
the difference ‘in aesthetics’ between the two
countries.
Mme. Bourgeois replied:
“I’ll tell you a story about my mother. When
I was a little girl growing up in France, my
mother worked sewing tapestries. Some of the
tapestries were exported to America. The only
problem was that many of the images on the
tapestries were of naked people. My mother’s
job was to cut out the - what do you call it?”
INTERVIEWER: “The genitals?”
“Yes,” replied Mme. Bourgeois, “the
genitals of the men and the women,
and replace these parts with pictures of
flowers so they could be sold to Americans.
My mother saved all the pictures of the
genitals over the years, and one day she sewed
them together as a quilt, and then she gave the
quilt to me.”
“That,” said Mme. Bourgeois, “is the
difference between French and American
aesthetics.”
Not to mention Penticton.
them, next election, to their worst defeat in
memory.
Davis, the last premier to leave while
generally basking in acclaim, retired
undefeated and often is pointed to as a premier
others should copy.
Less remembered is that he helped Miller
lose because his last act before retiring was to
extend full funding to Roman Catholic high
schools, bringing back an issue that had
almost died and prompting many to vote
against the Tories.
Earlier Tory premiers John Robarts and
Leslie Frost retired mostly to praise they were
moderates who managed generally for the
public good.
Recent premiers have had a tougher time
leaving with their heads high partly because
government is more complex and has more
issues to deal with.
Voters also are more volatile, turfing out
four of the last five premiers, and news media
more aggressive. Ask current Liberal premier
Dalton McGuinty, who has to worry every
time he picks up his paper.
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—j.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bonnie
Gropp
The short of it
Be mine, Valentine
Be mine, Valentine. Feb. 14 is just
around the corner, the day of friendship
and romance.
And I for one am quite happy there’s only
one valentine to worry about on my list now.
From my childhood I remember that
Valentine's Day was not the heartwarming
event for some that it was meant to be. You
have to remember this was a time when a little
one’s feelings were not given the consideration
they should have been. Teachers were adept at
the three Rs, but not so much psychology.
Thus, the annual passing out of valentine
cards could be a hurtful experience. In our
classrooms, days before Feb. 14, the
excitement began in art class with the creation
of special containers for the scads of syrupy
cards each student would apparently receive.
Unfortunately, some needed bigger holders
than others; some could have gotten by
without.
Even in Grade 1 the social status was
evident. I was in the majority, the kids who
received not a massive number, but
respectable. And there was generally one
‘From your secret admirer’ to take the sharp
edge off the fact that you hadn’t received as
many as the popular kids.
But there was that other group, the shy ones,
the outsiders, who could count on one hand the
number of valentines they got. As their
classmates insouciantly shuffled through their
messages of adoration, they would consider
their own carefully. And the face shadowed
with disappointment would beam just a little
more with each one read.
A few of the more-sensitive popular kids,
secure in their place in the social hierarchy of
elementary school, could extend a fingertip of
friendship and bestow a valentine upon these
children. But for the most part, the rest of us
couldn’t take the chance and ignored them and
the way they were treated. Thus the stigma was
solidified.
In my tender years I didn’t recognize how
awful this was. Yet, a feeling was filed away
that inspired insight in the years after. It
became particularly vivid as a parent, when the
hurt could be to my own children. I remember,
therefore, the gratitude I fe't the time a class
list was sent home with my youngest. The
teacher encouraged that a valentine be sent to
all on the list, or none.
As children get older they too develop
broader shoulders. As grownups must, they’re
best to accept that everyone won’t like them,
that some people are mean-spirited and
narrow-minded. It is probably wrong,
therefore in their case, to develop what could
perhaps be construed as a somewhat
patronizing rule. After all, what cool pre-teen
would want a valentine they know they only
received because someone was told they must
give them one?
But for the children of the tenderest years
isn’t it imperative they learn and understand
the importance of everyone being treated the
same way? Children may not be aware of it,
but they recognize ostracism with surprising
clarity. They also tend to follow the norm.
As Valentine’s Day approaches each year, I
often think of those little faces and wonder
how life went for them. The ones that were
with me through several years of school did, I
recall, continue to sit on the outside, though
high school opened the door to a larger circle
of friends.
Hopefully, now they’re getting valentines —
from someone who really matters.