The Citizen, 2005-05-12, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, MAY 12, 2005. PAGE 5.
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The genetic genius of the French
A relatively small and eternally
quarrelsome country, fountainhead of
rationalist political manias, militarily
impotent, historically inglorious during the
past century, democratically bankrupt.
Communist-infiltrated from top to bottom.
- William F. Buckley
France: where the money falls apart and you
can't tear the toilet paper.
- Billy Wilder
Harsh words, indeed, for La Republique
Glorieuse, but the French have a genetic
genius for ticking people off. Especially
Americans such as the patriotic duo quoted
above.
Yankees and Frenchmen have had
passionate hate-ons for each other for most of
the past 200 years. As I write, there are three
books in American bookstores that are cashing
in on the spleen. Their titles are: Vile France:
Fear. Duplicity, Cowardice and Cheese; The
Arrogance of the French: Why They Can't
Stand Us and Why the Feeling Is Mutual and
Our Oldest Enemy: A History of America's
Disastrous Relationship with France.
Americans, thanks to France’s refusal to
support the war in Iraq, are currently reaching
a crescendo of anti-Gallic sentiment (on
Capitol Hill, French fries have been defiantly
renamed Freedom Fries; senators are tucking
into Freedom Toast and French’s Mustard is
no longer available) but for the French in
France it’s pretty much business as usual -
they’ve pretty much hated the U.S. of A. from
the get-go.
Back in the 17th century, French naturalists
dismissed all of North America as “small, wet
and poisonous”, insisting that all flora and
fauna from The New World was inherently
Politicians can fall a long way
Politicians can fall a long way and
Ontarians have been given two
reminders of it.
Michael Davison, 54. who was a New
Democrat MPP in Hamilton from 1975-81,
pleaded guilty to harassing a 16-year-old girl
and a court gave him a conditional discharge
and probation.
Davison’s father, Norm, earlier represented
the same riding for 16 years and was what is
called a good constituency man, a euphemism
for being able to win his seat but not
contributing much to debates.
The son was ultra aggressive and the
patrician Progressive Conservative treasurer,
Darcy McKeough, called him a guttersnipe, a
term Winston Churchill applied to enemies but
not heard much in Ontario politics.
Davison also was popular enough to defeat
Sheila Copps, although she came back to beat
him before she rose to the giddy heights of
deputy prime minister.
Davison bounced back on to Hamilton city
council, where he was a strong voice, and
became a political columnist for that city’s
major newspaper and TV commentator.
He had been a factory worker and wrote
literately and interestingly enough to make a
professional journalist envious - clearly a
talented guy
But he drank heavily, separated from his
wife and wound up telling the teenage girl he
would like to see her breasts and train her as a
dominatrix, selling sadomasochism.
The girl was disgusted and depressed and
suffered nightmares. Davison at one low point
could not even get anyone to put up bail. The
judge said he once was a pillar of the
community, but stress and alcohol helped turn
his life into a major tragedy.
Arthur
Black
pallid and undernourished (Moose? Orca?
Redwoods?)
The French were also convinced that any
two-legged denizens foolish enough to inhabit
North America were doomed to eternal last
place in the Homo Sapiens sweepstakes.
When a team of U.S. athletes unexpectedly
trounced the French at rugby in the 1924
Olympics in Paris, a mob of incensed patriots
tried to lynch the winning team.
As for American intellect - what’s that?
The philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre dismissed
the entire American populace as ‘rabid
animals’ and resolutely refused to cross the
Atlantic in his lifetime.
The famously near-sighted writer suggested,
myopically enough, that the solution was for
France to “break all ties that bind us to
America”.
But France did not reserve all its disdain for
the U.S. It flipped the bird to Great Britain and
to Canada — to any nation, in fact, that did not
have the supreme good fortune to be, well,
France.
General Charles de Gaulle, the hulking giant
with a nose like a bridge parapet, was the
personification of French arrogance and pride.
v (“When I want to know what France thinks”
he said, “I ask myself”).
His meddling and mischievousness on the
world stage knew no bounds. On a state visit
to Canada during our centennial year de
Eric
Dowel
From
Queen's Park
Around the same time, John Brown, also a
former NDP MPP, who represented a Toronto
riding from 1967-71, died.
An MPP from each party paid tribute in the
legislature, a tradition when former members
die. MPPs often praise predecessors who left
before them and whom they never knew. No
current MPP was elected before 1977.
MPPs also say only good things about
members who die, although one mentioned
briefly Brown “found himself in troubles in
his later life.”
Brown in fact was sentenced to the longest
jail term given a former MPP in memory, three
years for fraud.
He had been a bright hope for the NDP, an
innovative social worker successful in treating
emotionally disturbed youth in group homes
he directed and later owned.
But he diverted nearly $1 million the
province provided to maintain his treatment
practice into lavish living, including flying his
own plane, and particularly expanding homes
outside Ontario that failed.
These two were NDP MPPs, but it should
not be assumed New Democrats have had a
monopoly on getting in trouble with the law
over the years. Far from it.
Will Ferguson, an NDP minister under Bob
Rae, was jailed for punching his estranged
Gaulle stood on the balcony of Montreal’s city
hall and cooed “Vive Le Quebec libre” into the
microphones, inciting Quebecois separatists
into a frenzy.
He was no less subversive in British affairs.
After the Germans overran France and
installed the puppet Vichy government in the
early ’40s, the British offered asylum to de
Gaulle. He repaid the Brits with characteristic
hauteur, quarreling and upstaging his hosts at
every opportunity.
“When I am right, I get angry,” he explained
in an interview. “When Churchill is wrong, he
gets angry. So we were often very angry with
each other.”
The French are masters of linguistic subtlety
and pride themselves on their sly wit and
withering ripostes, but every once in a while
they get well and truly skewered by the very
foreigners they disdain. Reflecting on France’s
less-than-dazzling World War II military
performance and rapid, even enthusiastic,
capitulation to the Germans, the English
playwright Noel Coward acidly observed:
“There’s always something Vichy about the
French”.
And in 1966, when then-President de Gaulle
yanked France out of NATO and told U.S.
Secretary of State Dean Rusk that all U.S.
troops were to be immediately evacuated off
French soil. Rusk reported back to President
Lyndon Johnson.
“Ask him about the cemeteries, Dean,” said
President Johnson.
And Rusk went back to de Gaulle and
inquired sweetly if his order to remove all U.S.
troops from French soil included the 60,000
American soldiers who were buried in France
as a result of two World Wars.
President de Gaulle left the meeting without
answering.
wife after drinking and Ted Bounsall, an
earlier NDP MPP, was found guilty of theft
after he left a store with a $7 bottle of vitamins
he said he forgot to pay for.
Bounsall also was among the most
worthwhile backbenchers and his
contributions included bringing in the first
private member’s bill requiring equal pay for
work of equal value (now called pay equity.)
But among Tories, ex-MPP Alan Eagleson,
who became a hockey agent, was sentenced to
18 months imprisonment for defrauding
clients. Terry Jones was jailed six months for
defrauding investors in a get-rich-quick land
scheme.
Albert Belanger was fined for fraud after a
company with which he was involved went
bankrupt and William Vankoughnet became
the only MPP ever arrested for soliciting when
he offered a policewoman, posing as a
prostitute, money for sex.
Among Liberal MPPs, Claudette Boyer
admitted obstructing justice after she
encouraged a niece to tell police she was
driving when the MPP’s husband reversed a
van and injured a pedestrian. Lost her
legislature seat over it.
None of this suggests politicians get in
trouble with the law more than the rest of the
population, but neither are they immune from
its weaknesses.
Final Thought
Imagination is the beginning of creation.
You imagine what you desire, you will what
you imagine, and at last you create what
you wfrf.
- George Bernard Shaw
Bonnie
The short of it
Time flies ...
What can I say? I suppose that time
sure flies when you’re having fun
might be apt.
If you would indulge me, let’s take a little
nostalgic stroll back to a May day in 1980.
After an incredible 24 hours I had anticipated
a good night's sleep, but woke instead, much to
my surprise, just brief hours later feeling
wonderfully refreshed. The grey dawn that
welcomed me did little to darken my cheery
mood.
As the rest of the household awakened
around me, a festive feeling permeated the
atmosphere. What remained of the seconds and
minutes passed in a bustling blur of activity,
until it was 7 p.m. and 1 was about to be
married.
Again. This time, however, for keeps. Unlike
Jennifer Wilbanks, the recently infamous
runaway bride who pretended to have been
kidnapped rather than get married, I
experienced no cold feet that day or for that
matter, any need to put on my walking shoes
since. And now hubby and I have, for this day
and age, and for me I guess, reached a fairly
significant milestone.
Like most young couples the years we’ve
spent building our life together have
encompassed both good times and bad. It is a
quarter-century-old saga told through pictures
and memories, through our four terrific kids
and their new families.
When we married, we were both 20-
somethings, certainly mature enough to know
what we wanted, but clueless enough to not
fully understand what it would always mean.
Mixed in with all the good times — fun with
friends, the pleasures of parenthood — were
unique challenges we could never have
anticipated. Also, we were surprised to
discover that petty but previously ignored
issues such as a balanced cheque book and
who does what around the nouse, could on the
wrong day and in the wrong situation become
foolishly huge points of ‘discussion’.
We soon recognized that marriage is no
different than most things in life. You put one
foot in front of the other day after day. You try
to do the best you can. You succeed or you
don’t.
Then one day before you know it, you look
behind you and realize you’ve built a company
to be reckoned with. It’s a co-operative that
combines all the important objectives of a
business relationship — communication,
friendship and respect — with love and
intimacy.
And when you work with someone towards
the same goal for so long you realize you know
them pretty darn well, even to the point of
knowing when they’ll disagree with you.
Perhaps it was this future that frightened
Wilbanks. The pomp and ceremony of the big
day, (and hers was going to be massive) with
all its pressure and expectations leads nowhere
as we all know, half of the time. No one likes
to fail and marriage can present enough
surprises and challenges that even the most
likely to succeed often don’t.
So it is that I look back on a quarter century
and unabashedly admit to feeling not just a
little proud. It was one foot in front of the other
day after day until suddenly two and a half
decades have gone by. There’s been a lot of
stuff crammed into that time, some of it, of
course, that I’d rather not remember.
But I’ve been blessed with a husband who
has never let one of those day after days go by
without making me laugh.
Twenty-five years was bound to go quickly.