Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2005-08-18, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 2005. PAGE 5. Other Views Beauty is only scalpel deep year - and hiding behind her umpty-llth facelift. She started having her mug remodeled back in 1965. when she had a couple of satchels of unsolicited luggage excised from underneath her eyes. In the following 40 years she has had: her cheekbones elevated, her ears sculpted, her brow sanded smooth, her chin trimmed back, her neck wattles ironed flat and her nose whittled down ‘til it’s almost as non-existent as Michael Jackson’s. And it’s not over yet. Joan Rivers’s puss is a work in progress. She still pops into her friendly cosmetologist every four months for Botox injections and collagen treatments. She is basically a fleshy fraud; an architectural fake from the neck up. And she’s damn proud of it. “I have become.” she says, “the poster girl for plastic surgery.” Why does she do it? “Number one,” she says briskly, “when you look better you are treated differently. Number two: people want to be around attractive people.” Planet Earth to Joan: Number one: if you’re hanging around with folks who give you thumbs up or down depending on your wrinkle quotient, you need to upgrade to a classier circle of friends. Ontario Senate home to duds Ontarians have not had many senators they can be proud of and the tradition is in no danger of ending. The latest to join the federal house of sober second thought, with its pay of $119,300 a year and generous expenses, is Hugh Segal, a longtime Progressive Conservative backroom worker in Ontario and later federal politics. Segal has caused chuckles with the reminder he once irreverently called a Senate job a “taskless thanks,” a reward requiring little work. But his relevant history is that he tried twice to win a seat in parliament, but was rejected by voters, who often are perceptive enough to be wary of those who manipulate from back rooms. Some other back roomers they rebuffed in Toronto are Dalton Camp, whose varied activities included speech writing for former Tory premier William Davis, and Jim Coutts, chief aide to former Liberal prime minister Pierre Trudeau. Segal left Queen’s Park and worked in the business of helping those who could afford him obtain the ear of government and an unfair advantage over others, not the most public-spirited of professions. Segal wrote the fanciful, so-called Charter for Ontario, in which Davis tried to win back a majority in 1977 by promising to balance the budget in four years, but failed in both. Segal ran for leader of the federal Conservatives in the late 1990s, but they also rebuffed him, partly because they could not believe him. He had been in a Davis government noted for spending freely, but the public changed to wanting tax cuts and Segal jumped on the bandwagon proclaiming he was avid for cuts and a solid right-winger on finance. Segal also wanted government more open and less secretive in decision-making, but he had been in a Davis clique that made almost all decisions in backrooms and it did not ring true. Segal has tried to make his appointment At 50, everyone has the face he deserves. - George Orwell h. yeah? Well, don't try to tell that to Joan Rivers. George. The acid- tongued comedienne is into her 72nd Arthur Black And number two: sorry kiddo, but all that pain and all that stitchwork have not left you looking all that attractive. On my TV you look like an X-ray of a scarecrow. In close-ups your head looks like a cartoon face sketched on a nylon stocking stretched over a light bulb. You look...weird. Which is not to say Joan Rivers is the most outlandish living example of cosmetic surgery gone nuts. Michael Jackson’s got her whupped in that department. And a walking nightmare named Jocelyn Wildenstein leaves them both in the dust. (Check her out at www.awfulplasticsurgery.com - if you dare). Like Wildenstein and Jackson. Joan Rivers continues to pursue her doomed quest to re­ cage the sweet bird of youth. "It’s an obligation,” she says. As for those who laugh at her, Ms Rivers responds with a dismissive snort. “They cannot parody you unless they know you. and when they know you, it means you're part of the culture, it means you’re successful.” Yeah, well, Frankenstein, Godzilla and The Incredible Hulk are all part of the culture too. But I don’t see anybody submitting to the sound deserved by pointing out it was made by a Liberal prime minister, but governments appoint rivals occasionally to deflect criticisms they select too many of their own. Federal governments have a knack of appointing unworthy Ontarians. Andrew Thompson, who had been Ontario Liberal leader for two years, was absent from the Senate so often in the 1990s police almost sent out a missing person report and a reporter eventually located him sunbathing outside his home in Mexico. Norman Atkins got in the Senate after he ran election campaigns for both Davis and Conservative prime minister Brian Mulroney and his advertising firm collected government contracts from both. William Kelly’s route was being Davis’s chief fundraiser, notorious because two companies who donated inadvertently made public documents that suggested they expected favours from government in return, laws had to be changed and his office destroyed records just before investigators came calling. Trevor Eyton, a Conservative businessman appointed after he advised the province on funding the Toronto SkyDomc, which it had to Final Thought I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and 1 understand. - Confucius surgeon's scalpel to try and look like them It makes you want to take Joan Rivers by the shoulders, look her in the eye and say: "Joan, you are 72 years old. It's okay to have wrinkles. You've earned them." Nobody ever had wrinkles to match the English poet. Wystan Hugh Auden. He was only 66 when he died, but his face looked eons older. He once observed. “My face looks like a wedding cake left out in the rain.” Naw. His face was beautiful. It looked like a contour map of the back side of the moon, all stress lines and laugh creases and sad furrows. It was magnificent — the road map of his well-lived life. Why would he not want his face to reflect who he was? What is it that's come undone in our culture that moves so many to shell out megabucks and endure carloads of pain so they can have a face as surreally smooth as a baby's bum? At the risk of sounding corny, it really is what's inside, not outside, that counts. Paul Bernardo had a baby face; Sir John A. MacDonald’s mug looked like 40 miles of bad road. Who would you rather have in your lifeboat? Enjoy yourself. Laugh much. Allow your life to show in your face. And remember the words of Oregon poet Anthony Euwar: As a beauty I’m not a great star There are others more handsome by far But my face - I don’t mind it For I am behind it It’s people in front get the jar. sell at a huge loss, has recently been called the Senate’s "truancy king” because he attends rarely and may face huge fines. Among Ontarians who deserved and would have been more use in the Senate is, from politics, former Liberal leader Bob Nixon, called the best premier Ontario never had, who was passionate about the legislative process and would have loved a Senate post. Also former Tory premier Frank Miller, who died five years ago and had right-wing ideas that Mike Harris developed to win an election and were worth debating, said he would have leaped at a Senate seat. Ernie Eves, the Conservative premier defeated in 2003, was admired enough that he was elected eight times in two different ridings and almost begged to continue in some public post, but wa^ passed over. The deserving outside politics include Nobel Prize winner John Polanyi, who once offered his considerable services to the Ontario government, but Harris as premier did not call him back. But this does not surprise — politicians are less interested in obtaining the best people than promoting their political agendas. Letters Policy The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise. Bonnie Gropp The short of it A very simple pleasure Our lives are full of things that make us happy. However, these moments and practices are often quite exclusive. For example, the pleasure one finds in a fine glass of wine, might be elusive to another. Yet sometimes it's the simplest things in which we can find enjoyment. It’s not necessarily creative, it may not be interesting, perhaps it's not even fun. But for some reason, this chore or pastime that probably appears simply practical or completely insignificant to most is curiously a delight to someone. Occasionally they can be so obscure you might not even notice. A pensive moment revealed one of mine to me recently. It’s a deck day. A morning of household tasks behind me. I am set to take a few minutes for myself. Moving outdoors, 1 plop down on the chair, take a deep breath and allow myself the luxury of quiet contemplation. My eyes languidly roam across my outdoor domain and absorb all aspects of its comfort. I sigh at the blue sky, let the'warmth of the sunlight soothe. And then to the corner of my eye, a flash of colour flits into view. Many colours actually. Like a rainbow of kites they fluff and blow in the strong breeze and I feel a satisfaction. There is not much of household drudgery that I like. But I can get positively giddy about a line full of freshly laundered clothes. Their high-flying dance is a reward for my labour, trips up and down two flights of stairs laden with heavy baskets. As they bake in the heat of an August sun I visualize a crisp cleanliness that can’t be obtained with just soap and water. The breeze bathes them in fresh air, scenting them with an aroma ihat no detergent or fabric softener can imitate. Best of all, however, is that as I sit and wait for them to dry, I am completing another household chore in a good, old-fashioned way. With this incredible summer of heat and sunshine much has been said about decreasing the amount of our energy consumption. Logically that is directed to air conditioners first. However, while central air (2.5 tons) uses 3,500 watts of power, and a window unit requires 600-1,440 watts, an electric clothes dryer needs 5,000 watts. Yet there are many urban municipalities with bylaws mat forbid the use of outdoor clothes lines. And I know many people in new subdivisions who would be outraged to see them. Several years ago I visited a friend in Kitchener. I was there to see her new spacious home located in one of those cloned neighbourhoods where each house is replicated by one two doors down. Since marrying 25 years before, this woman had never owned a clothes dryer, preferring instead to line dry. Looking out into her postage stamp backyard, I mentioned that she would probably only be able to use one of the stands now and was shocked when she told me outdoor clotheslines were not permitted. Asked why, she responded that they are “not attractive”. And the funny thing is, she now seemed to agree. My answer then is the same as now. Oh good grief. It may not be as picture perfect as a country garden, but a line of clothes is hardly offensive. Though it can pose some problems for people with allergies, for most air drying is practical, economical, environmentally- friendly, and not particularly difficult. I do it, however, simply for the pleasure.