Loading...
The Citizen, 2009-02-26, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2009. PAGE 5. Bonnie Gropp TThhee sshhoorrtt ooff iitt Happily ever after I am ashamed that the law is such an ass. – George Chapman, 1654 Well, George, there’s plenty of shame to go around. Much derisive laughter rocked the planet last year when an American judge (I am not making this up) sued his dry cleaners for losing his suit pants. The judge asked for (I am still not making this up) $54 million. The case was eventually thrown out of court, to the comic relief of everyone but the aggrieved justice. What didn’t make the headlines is the fact that the immigrant dry- cleaners were slammed with legal costs in excess of $100,000. It bankrupted them. They closed their shop and moved back to South Korea. Ah, well. Americans are world-famous for their litigious loonyness. Such judicial miscarriages could never happen in Canada. Much. Last month it was announced that the case involving the sinking of the BC Ferry Queen of the North would not be going to court. Why? Because the plaintiffs – the plaintiffs – couldn’t afford it. Who knew that in British Columbia, complainants can be responsible for renting the courtroom (in this case, about $15,000)? Who knew that in British Columbia, if you want a jury trial you can be asked to kick in another $25,000? Who knew that it costs nearly $500 just to have your writ stamped and put on the trial list? Granted, it’s a lot cheaper in other provinces – but silly me, I assumed that in a democracy, justice wasn’t dependent on one’s bank account. I thought the court system was just…there. I took if for granted that it was a service free for all citizens, like highway maintenance and the police department and Environment Canada. Two innocent passengers met what could only have been horrible deaths in the sinking of the Queen of the North. Somebody screwed up badly. Criminally badly. But because the families of the two people who died can’t afford what their lawyer estimates would come to $55,000 in up-front court fees, those families and the world may never learn just what happened that night the ship went down. Observers of the Canadian justice system should be inured to the Keystone Kops quality of the Canadian courts. Mort Zuckerman, once said “Law practice is the exact opposite of sex – even when it’s good, it’s bad.” He could have been talking about Canada’s infamous trial into the Air India Flight 182 disaster. The largest mass murder in our country’s history resulted in 329 men, women and children being blown up in a Boeing 747 en route from Toronto to Mumbai. Canadian taxpayers spent 15 years and $130 million to bring the perpetrators to justice. Thanks to unparalleled bungling by the RCMP and CSIS, all but one of those monsters walk our streets today. Inderjit Singh Reyat, the man who built the bomb, confessed, so he pretty well had to be punished. He got five years. So is what we need more laws, more litigation? We should be careful what we wish for. Consider Great Britain. The law, sir, is a ass, a idiot. Charles Dickens wrote that in Victorian London nearly two centuries ago. He would not recognize his country today. In the last dozen years, British legislators have dreamed up more than 3,600 new criminal offences. More than a thousand of them can send the perpetrators to prison. As a Briton you can now face jail time for smoking in public; or if you sponsor an unlicensed Christmas concert in your church basement. Neglecting to get a passport for your pet donkey can now land you in a British slammer. But British jurisprudence saved an extra dollop of wrath for citizens who play fast and loose with the educational system. Even in Dickens’ time a British student who played hooky could be penalized with detentions, writing lines on the blackboard – even, in extreme cases, expulsion. But under new legislation, the parents of that student could go to jail. Americans know all about not messing with the educational system. Especially teachers. They all remember the Florida public school teacher who put his hand on the back of a rowdy student to steer him out of the classroom. And got sued for his troubles. For $20 million U.S. A great American litigator by the name of Oliver Wendell Homes Jr. once wrote: “Lawyers spend a good deal of their time shovelling smoke.” Right – and the rest of their time lighting fires. Arthur Black Other Views The law … ooo la la! Many stories are being told about Ontario’s most revered hockey arena, but no-one has mentioned the time a cabinet minister blocked its powerful media baron owner from adding more lucrative seats and got cross-checked out of his political career. Memories revived on this 10th anniversary of the last hockey game at Maple Leaf Gardens have included Dalton McGuinty in opposition bravely telling reporters at a game he hoped his hometown Ottawa Senators would win the Stanley Cup. Health minister and later Progressive Conservative premier Frank Miller was playing in a charity game there when he suffered a heart attack and MPP Eddie Sargent from the opposing Liberal team kicked off his skates and drove him in stocking feet to hospital, where he took a month to recuperate. Miller said Sargent “probably saved my life.” Sargent, one of the legislature’s great characters, owned the then fairly-novel constantly-changing advertisements around the rink.” The convention that chose William Davis as Conservative leader and premier was held there in 1971. It was the first to use voting machines, which took 11 instead of the expected four hours to count and were leased through a well-known Liberal who owned the franchise, which raised suspicions of mischief. The event no one has recalled happened in the 1960s when the autocratic John Bassett, then part-owner of the Gardens, the Toronto Telegram newspaper that no longer exists and the area’s biggest privately-owned TV station, CFTO, wanted to add another 4,000 seats to its existing 13,718. These would have been welcomed by fans and brought the owners a lot more money, but there was no room inside the building, so Bassett proposed installing them in overhangs built at each end sticking out 22 feet over the streets. The only obstacle was such overhangs required municipal and provincial approval, because they shut out the sun. Bassett usually got what he wanted, because he had powerful media to support his aims and did not hesitate to use them. He also was a Conservative and the Conservatives were in government provincially under premier John Robarts. Toronto city council obligingly rubber- stamped his plan, but an obstinate municipal affairs minister, Wilfrid Spooner, a northerner who did not think big city slickers should get all they want, took it in his head to oppose it. Robarts allowed his ministers more freedom to make decisions than most premiers and saw himself in the role of “chairman of the board.” Spooner took such an interest he went with his old-fashioned box camera to the then Varsity Stadium, where overhangs had been allowed, and took photographs. He showed them to a committee of MPPs, which this reporter attended, and said they blocked out the sky, were ugly and violated desirable community planning. MPPs in all parties supported him and the legislature committee turned down Bassett’s request. Spooner had been a solid workhorse of a minister without problems and The Telegram had even praised him as “Queen’s Park’s best administrator” and a possible future premier. But after Spooner stopped Bassett getting his extra seats, The Telegram published no fewer than 26 editorials in three years saying he was inept, complacent, lazy, arrogant and insulting, had weakened municipalities by interfering in their decisions and being unwilling to speak for their interests, and might as well not exist for all the good he did as a minister. The paper said Spooner was an embarrassment, a liability and unfit for office and Robarts should fire him. Spooner lost his seat in the 1967 election largely because the paper kept throwing mud at him and some of it stuck. This is not a proud chapter in Toronto newspaper history and media today may have failed to remind of it partly because newer, able reporters would not even know of it. But news media here at the best of times are not inclined to expose failings of others in their industry, for reasons including they might bite back. Eric Dowd FFrroomm QQuueeeenn’’ss PPaarrkk It may be spring when, in Lord Alfred Tennyson’s view, a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love. But in my particular case the season was fall. After three years of courtship, or to be more accurate hanging out, getting acquainted and preferring the company of each other, over others, it was a kaleidoscopic autumn afternoon when my romantic fellow threw something akin to a proposal my way. I remember it as us being enroute to somewhere, on one of those glorious days when Mother Nature has painted a palette of crimson, gold and burnished orange. The cheery sun shone boldly against a crisp blue sky. And out of that blue my guy suddenly remarked, “When we get married, it should be on a day like this.” Or as he would tell it now ... we were driving to somewhere and it was a really nice day and I’m pretty sure she said that. I’m partial to the blushing bride’s version, but either way you choose to picture it, the end result was the same... we married. From the moment that one of us made the suggestion, planning a wedding, of course, seemed to be the focus of all our conversation and our energy. Our wedding day, interestingly enough, was nothing like we pictured on that drive. It was a dreary spring (yes, spring) day, slightly cool, often raining. But of course, it was also absolutely perfect. The day in retrospect for any happily- married couple is always perfect, no matter what the weather, no matter what mini-disaster befalls. The miscues and missteps are fun memories to share, but the preferred image is of the dewy-eyed bride and her handsome groom enjoying a carefree, blissful beginning. There is something so hopeful about bridal ceremonies that seems to effectively chase away all doom and gloom — at least for the time being. Not just for the couple either as those assembled to see the union of these two lives share their happiness and view to the future. It is the future of course, that doesn’t always live up to the promise. Most probably go into marriage a little too idealistically, and are surprised by the practicalities of this partnership that affect the romance and balance. Yet, there is hope to be found that in a society where marriages have become disposable, or unnecessary, where commitment seems an archaic notion, where the knowledge that 50 per cent of the marriages won’t last, so many people still believe it’s worth a try. This year my family gets to celebrate two weddings. One of them heading to the south for their nuptials had to actually push their day ahead of the other because they are attendants at a number of other ceremonies. That certainly does seem hopeful to me. In a world surrounding us in so much that is wrong, there are still so many willing to put faith in another person, to share their dreams with someone else and trust that they can start something new together. Dire reports and gloomy predictions won’t keep them from bringing new life into this world. They will contribute and build; they will dream and hope. In reality we all know there are no guarantees, that even the likeliest to succeed at the marriage game may not. But for that day at least the world weary, even the cynics should just let themselves believe again in happily-ever-after. Maple Leaf Gardens story ignored 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.