The Citizen, 1993-12-15, Page 5International Scene
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THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 15, 1993. PAGE
This
is progress?
Water, water, everywhere
nor any drop to drink.
Coleridge
Ever stop to think what a sacred, precious
commodity your everyday, run of the mill
drop of water is?
Not spectacular like a rainbow, or
awesome like a lion's roar or a whitetail's
leap or a newborn's yawn...but sacred
nonetheless.
And about to become more sacred — our
good Uncle Sam is looking our way and
licking his lips.
Canada, of course has umpteen gazillion
tons of water. We've got Niagara Falls and
Kakabeka and Nahanni and uncounted rivers
full of pure, sweet water coursing over our
rocks and bogs, pouring into bigger rivers
and ponds and lakes and oceans.
You have to go to other countries to really
appreciate what we take for granted, here in
Canada — to Ingolstadt in Germany, say,
where the famous Blue Danube flows, not so
very blue after all — more like a turgid brown
scar across the landscape. Or the Rio Grande
An economist
looks at
Christmas
I don't write an article about Christmas
every year but it is about time that I did. This
is going to be one article a bit different than
any I have written about the subject before,
but it comes out of a sincere desire to give
advice to people who come to me and
complain about the high cost of Christmas.
If only, they say, there was some way we
could economize. When they use that word,
my eyes light up and I reply, "There is, my
child. Listen to the parable I am about to tell
you."
Believe me, you would listen too, with an
opening like that.
When I lived in Spain, I discovered that
the Spanish children did not get their
presents on Dec. 25. Far from it! They got
them early in January when the three wise
men arrived at the stable in Bethlehem. You
see, when the baby Jesus was born, the three
men did not hop in a private jet since oil had
not yet been discovered in the Middle East.
Instead they went by camel and, in case you
have not ridden on one, let me assure you
that speed was never one of its main
characteristics. Thus it was that it took the
wise men a couple of weeks to get to the
place where the star shone. That would fix
the date at about Jan. 6, which leads me to
believe that the Spaniards are a bit more
accurate than we arc in their interpretation of
the Bible.
I hope I have not shaken any cherished
beliefs but I am not finished. There is no
definite proof that Jesus was even born in
Bethlehem, the possibility exists that it could
have been in Nazareth since that is where
Jesus grew up. When you read the scriptures,
you arc amazed to find that they do not tally.
Luke has the visitation made only by the
between Mexico and Texas, a river so
polluted you wouldn't want to put your foot
in it, much less your tongue.
I think of those desecrated landmarks and
remember a nameless river in the nameless
depths of northern Quebec where I went
canoeing not so long ago. And watched in
wonder as my Crec guide scooped a ladle
full of water from the lake we were crossing
in a canoe — scooped it up and drank his fill,
runnels of water streaking through the
stubble on his chin.
Such a natural act, stooping and scooping
a bellyful of water from Mother Earth. So
natural — and now so utterly life-threatening
to most of us on this planet.
We've poisoned our own water. It isn't fit
to drink until it's been chlorinated and
fluoridated and filtered and distilled.
A hundred years ago you could have
cupped your hands into just about any body
of water in this country and drank your fill
without a worry.
This is progress?
It's not just Canada either. As a matter of
fact, we Canucks are better off than most.
Experts reckon that by the year 2025, one of
three people on this planet will be living in a
country suffering from a shortage of fresh
water.
Twenty countries are officially listed as
"water-scarce" meaning that they can supply
less than 1,700 cubic metres per person, per
shepherds; there is nary a wise man in sight.
Matthew takes exactly the opposite stand;
wise men but no shepherds. Even at that he
specifies no set figure. Was it three because
of the gold, frankincense and myrrh?
In short, the way we practice Christmas is
not based on any proven data but is far more
on a serious of scenarios thrown together
over the ages to give us something on which
to hang our Christmas stockings.
Furthermore we have so commercialized the
whole spirit of Christmas that it is hard to
delineate between the religious and the
secular.
By now some of you are getting restless
and are wondering where in this lies the
secret of saving money at Christmas. I can
understand your impatience but bear with
me. I am always encouraging my students to
bring innovative thinking to problems. The
history of economics is replete with theories
that have worked in some occasions but
failed miserably in others. Thus I want to
bring a bit of such thinking to our problem at
hand-saving money.
Here is my plan. Given that we celebrate
Christmas more by custom than by proven
fact, tell your family that you are going to
switch gift giving to Jan. 6. You can tell
them that this is how they do it in Spain and
that it is closer to what really happened.
Emphasize the making of the holiday more
authentic. If some of the more obstreperous
members complain that this is not what
everybody else is doing, tell them to be
leaders of men, just like Jesus was. Do not
ridicule them but this is a good time to bring
in the innovation factor.
Once you have got that under control, now
you can re-arrange your shopping days to fit
in the last part of December and the first
week of January. You know when those
days are? They are precisely when
everything goes on sale and you should,
without too much difficulty, be able to cut
about 50 per cent off the price of your gifts.
Some of you have already been buying
Christmas- cards on sale the last part of
year.
That's the break-even point, in case you're
interested. Above 1,700 cubic metres per
year, you're probably showering and not
worrying about all that soapy water going
down the drain. Below 1,700 metres, you're
carrying a canteen.
The experts predict that during the next
three decades as many as 50 more countries
will qualify as "water-scarce" — which
means they'll be looking at schemes to
import water, no matter how hare-brained.
Plans are afoot already to haul icebergs from
Antarctica, and two gigantic plastic bladders
of lake water from water-rich nations to
water-poor ones.
It's not a problem that we can afford to
wax theoretic over. In China, more than 200
cities are already chronically short of water.
Water tables under Beijing are dropping one
to two metres every year. The city is already
lining,up supply sources more than 1,000
kilometres away.
And here in Canada? Well, we live next to
a neighbour that believes it has the God-
given right to raise avocados in the deserts
of California.
No matter how much water it takes.
' No matter whose water it takes.
Of course, thanks to Brian Mulroney and
his bastard stepchild NAFTA, that's not a
problem any more.
Provided you happen to be American.
December so you have already been taking
the first steps. Just build on that and go the
whole way.
There will be doubters and scoffers but
ignore them. Anybody with a great idea gets
made fun of and if you follow my plan you
will have kept the Christmas spirit as
accurately as anybody and saved yourself a
pile of money (not to mention financial
headaches) at the same time. You will also
have the satisfaction of knowing that, when
you open your gifts, millions of Spanish
children are doing precisely the same thing.
Oh yes, they believe that the wise men
bring them since Santa Claus is unknown
there. Spain is a Christian country and I have
yet to see God wreak vengeance on them for
this interpretation.
Go for it!
Writing teaches
self-discipline
Continued from page 4
Highland Games.
He can't miss it, though, because the early
mornings are when he does his writing for
his radio show, his books, and a column that
appears in 60 Canadian newspapers.
Black says his writing, including his four
previous books, has taught him self-
discipline but also the need to loosen up a
little. "I used to be terribly earnest, like most
young people in the 60s. I used to preach a
lot, because, of course, when I was younger,
I knew everything. Then I started to hear
what sounded like crickets, a lot of clicking
noises, and I realized it was the sound of
people turning off their radios, so I thought
I'd better try to approach the same subjects
but with more compassion and humor."
His humorous side has received attention
from the literary community, earning him
more than one nomination for the prestigious
Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour.
HiS subject might be the CBC itself,
Canadian politics (a bottomless wellfor
commenis and criticism) or the' supermarket
tabloids, but it's always relevant, always
human, arid always funny.
The
short
of it
By Bonnie Gropp
Singing the praises
of Blyth's choir
One of the aspects of parenting that almost
always exhausts me is the simple task of
passing out praise and recognition for a job
well done and, as if that's not enough, doing
it on a equal basis.
"You told him he did a good job, but you
never tell me," says a daughter.
"You always notice when she does
something well, but you never say a word to
me,"a son can be heard muttering.
The problem I guess is that like many
people, I just don't always think to do the
right thing at the right time. While I may
very well have told others about the
accomplishment, I forgot to mention it to the
child to whom it would have meant so much
more. This doesn't mean I play favourites, it
simply means I don't always remember to
give credit where credit's due.
This will often happen outside the home as
well and when it does I am grateful to the
people who bring their feelings directly to
me. This past week two of our readers have
questioned why there was no coverage of
Frank Mills' recent concert in Blyth with the
United Church choir.
The reasons are that for performances such
as this, photographs for publications are
typically not allowed. During a phone
interview with Mr. Mills prior to his first
concert in Blyth some eight months earlier I
asked him about pictures. While he was
quite nice about it and said it would be
permitted I did get the point that it would be
preferred early so the flash wouldn't bother
those on stage.
Out of consideration for that, knowing
what a distraction a camera flash can be, I
didn't take pictures at either show.
Also, as the performance was presented by
Mr. Mills' and not by Blyth Festival my
ticket was not complimentary. Reviewing a
performance is work and while you may
think me miserable, if I pay for a ticket I
would like to sit and enjoy the
entertainment.
Thus, when we heard of the Christmas
concert and the fact that the Blyth United
Church choir, under the direction of Phyllis
Boak was going to be part of it, we opted
instead to speak with Mrs. Boak in advance
and run the story in advance of the concert.
Then I paid my money, sat in the packed
Memorial Hall and relaxed to the delightful
melodies delivered by those onstage.
However, I was perhaps remiss in not
making some comment on the achievements
of the choir, which had obviously put a good
deal of time and effort into preparing for this
special concert. Hours of rehearsal spent
going over the material sent to them resulted
in a polished, dignified execution of
seasonal favourites and originals. Such
sweet sounds coming from small town
Huron was a feather in the cap.
They did the village proud.
In my opinion ( Oops, here comes the
review) it was unfortunate that Mr. Mills
drowned them (and apparently most of the
other choirs who performed with him on the
tour) out during many of the songs because
when the approximately 30-voice choir
could be heard on such treasures as "The
Little Drummer Boy" it was a pleasure.
Following the performance I remarked to
many about the excellent job the choir had'
done and now, better late than never, I am
telling a few more: Hopefully some of the
choir members will read this column as well
so that for once my acknowledgment of a
good job reaches the ones who deserve it.
Arthur Black