This Old Economist: New Age of Austerity must be fair for all

That seems to be the message out of Europe, where “EU unemployment is running at 9.6%, and around twice that rate in Spain, Latvia and Estonia.” (Thousands Protest Austerity, D. Brunnstrom, Reuters)

There is little doubt in my mind that more austere lifestyles - for many - are required to enable future generations to live in some of the comfort to which many have grown accustomed (especially in North America).

I do not doubt that a new age of austerity is coming, and that it will be accompanied by tears, howling and gnashing of teeth.


Some tears, etc., will be genuine and some government measures will be to blame.

For example:

"The main feeling of the people is that for the banking system there are millions and billions of euros, but the social payments are being cut. That's not right," said Ralf Kutkowski,a German coal miner protesting in the Belgian capital.

Governments must spread the pain about in at least an equitable fashion. And in my opinion, the rich, with excessive lifestyles in some cases, may need to sacrifice more than the poor because they have more to give - in some cases, without making a dent.

Some tears, etc., will not be genuine, i.e., from those who have grown accustomed to more wealth than they require to live comfortably.

Governments, businesses, individual families - all have much to sort out.

If there is to be austerity in the future, who will pay the price?

***

The sorting out must hasten.

All debt - household, provincial, national, US, G7, OECD, global, environmental - is growing at an unprecedented rate.

More of This Old Economist - please click here.

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Letters to the Editor: Joe - 3, Anne Marie - 2, Gord - no score

Five letters appear in this morning’s London Free Press, all concerning Deforest City’s chief mayoral candidates.

Mayor Anne Marie DeCicco-Best was hit by two, was told to ‘lighten up’ about the ‘Fontana For Mayor’ signs found on her lawn recently, was told ‘London is long overdue for a new mayor’ and ‘those signs were a joke.’

I agree somewhat. I feel ‘Fontana For Mayor’ signs are somewhat of a joke because his platform is somewhat wobbly.

He’s the One Term Mayor. Wait. He’s the No Taxes Man. Wait. He’s the 10,000 Jobs in 5 Years Guy. Wait. There may be a another change coming.

Others are catching a whiff of wobbliness as well, as evidenced by the 3 letters that Joe scored this morning.

Re ‘no taxes’ and ‘10,000 jobs’ one letter writer said: “Wooing companies requires money, and Fontana’s plans to find the extra money, without raising taxes, are merely dreams.’

I call it shimmying out to the end of a very long and skinny branch but ‘merely dreaming’ kinda fits too.

Though the mayoral candidates got all of the attention this morning (Gord - no score, as usual), at least the election campaign is capturing the interest of some voters.

***

I play hockey today.

I wonder if ‘Gord - no score’ will prove accurate - again?

Read more about Letters to the Editor here.

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Morning Walk: All before I had my first coffee

Few things keep from my first coffee of the day.


However, I started the day with a wee walk - on my way to The Roaster - and I felt I had to stop and admire a few scenes before sampling the fruit of roasted beans.






This burgundy maple sported a patch of bright red.


What’s it been drinking?

Oh, speaking of... it's time for a refill.

***

Fall scenes from Hawk Cliff can be seen here.

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Zoom w a View: While sitting in my favourite chair

Late Sunday afternoon, after a stellar bike ride, I returned home to my favourite back yard chair.

My wife joined me and I - lovingly and patiently (that's me all over) - recalled to her several natural scenes I’d seen miles away, but noticed at the same time several more were unfolding before our eyes just meters away.


A small wren (?) with a creamy-orange chest hopped from atop a birdhouse to a branch above, then hid among the leaves.


With the sun’s rays upon it, a burst of red leaves appeared amongst the green in my neighbour’s tree.




Then two balloons floated overhead on a quiet breeze, perhaps looking for the house nearby belonging to a man whose business card should read "Minor voice, in my opinion at least, of some part of London" rather than “The Voice of London.”

Also dangling in the air, a lone spider waiting for a hapless fly to drop by - unexpectedly - for a meal.


***

Send me a photo you have taken of a natural scene witnessed recently.

I say, why bury it?

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Motorcycle Miles Pt 3: A world-renowned mulberry tree

I zipped up my leather coat, making sure four air-vent-zips were tight as well.

But before warming up the bike I took my camera out of my back pocket and walked toward a metal sign post.


I was happy to see that a particular tree was still standing and marked in such a way that people - including bird-watchers from the four corners of the world - would notice.


Perhaps because I’d first read the sign and noticed the tree years ago I purchased two slabs of the same kind of wood a year ago and adorned my house with them.


Rare, I may have thought at the time of purchase. Like me, I may have added - as humbly as all get out.

The paper mulberry is rotting at the core and few branches bear leaves, but it’s still hanging in there.


How long will it survive? Longer than we might expect, in my opinion.

Trees are fighters.


[“This slab was an odd shade of green when purchased”: photos GH]

Plus, if slabs of it are sold after it falls, then the old mulberry tree may survive past its years on someone’s back deck.

***

Please click here to read Motorcycle Miles Pt 2.

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Motorcycle Miles Pt 2: View from Hawk Cliff and more

Warmed by coffee and ginger cookies from Spicer’s Bakery, Port Stanley, I was soon on Dexter’s Line and heading east toward Hawk Cliff Rd.


[“Some bikers ‘don’t do gravel.’ Their loss.”: photos GH]

The road is about 1 - 2 miles east of Pt. Stanley and a large grayish blue house stands at the entrance to Hawk Cliff to the south.


[“I’ll go back this way in 30 minutes”]

Hawk Cliff gets its name from the fact that, year after year, many kinds of birds, including thousands of raptors, soar upon wind currents above the north shore of Lake Erie - and past this world-renowned bird watching site - on their ways to winter nesting and resting sites.


[“My favourite perch when watching for hawks and eagles”]

While there I saw not one hawk, only gulls. I think the breeze was heading in the wrong direction. I’ll return another time.

When I do, I’ll stand watch at the same spot from which I saw a bald-headed eagle soar past me - 15 meters away, at eye level - a few years ago.


[“Behind my perch, a twisted maze of sumac”]

The eagle’s passing left me speechless, hard to believe, I know.

Hawk Cliff is about 40 km. south of London, and well worth the trip for its natural beauty alone.


[“One last look at Lake Erie before I go”]

After my 30 minute stop I returned to my bike, camera safely tucked in my back pocket. But I got it out one more time before warming up my bike.

***

Please click here for Motorcycle Miles Pt 1.

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Motorcycle Miles: To Port Stanley and beyond

Sunday was a perfect day for a motorcycle ride. So, I warmed up the Virago before noon, and to escape the sun’s glare on my return home I headed southwest from London to Talbotville, then west to Shedden and beyond.


[“Many motorcycles crossed the span in Pt. Stanley during my stop”: photos GH]

As I neared Iona Station on highway 3 I felt it would be a good day to visit Hawk Cliff, so I headed south for county road 16.


[“Gull, geese and Gord enjoy a sun-filled day”]

Once on it I headed west toward Fingal and then southeast toward Port Stanley. Though I could have stopped a zillion times to take photos of colourful scenes I stayed on the bike and enjoyed the clean air and rumble of the bike.


[“Anything for sale? I need a ‘week-ender”]

The smell of fall was definitely upon the breeze. As I flew up out of one valley south of Iona Station I caught a whiff of decaying leaves.

I stopped twice in Port Stanley.


[“I’ll take the orange boat. I’ll call it ‘My Cottage’”]

Once to take pictures from a crest just north of the bridge.

Again to enjoy a coffee and two ginger cookies at Spicer’s Bakery, on the main corner. (Bill - $2.03: corner table and newspaper - free).


[“I’ll ask Ollie if he recognizes any cars by name”]

After a 30 minute pit stop I sailed uphill to pick up Dexter Line, the road to Hawk Cliff.

***

More Motorcycle Miles here.

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It Strikes Me Funny: Nature sells. Why bury it?

Recently, while this grumpy old economist was reading the August 14 issue of The Economist, I swam across an article entitled Cue The Fish.

(Remember, anyone with a wallet and 3 pieces of ID can be an economist. Join me in the shallow end at any time.)

Main point. Nature sells.


["Hawk Cliff Rd., leading to - of all things - a cliff that hawks cruise past": photo GH]

E.g., nature programming is one of the best businesses in media. Discovery Comm. made a profit of $372 million in the 2nd quarter of this year.

Knowing this, new burbs pop up in every direction on the furthest fringes of Deforest City and other sprawling burgs with lovely, all-new and all-natural sounding names.

For example:

Partridge Run - where partridges used to run.

Orchard Park, Lane, Drive, Meadows, etc. - where an orchard or - better yet - an orchard and meadow once stood.

Want to document the natural settings that have been buried for the sake of single-family homes? Document the names of recently planted suburbs.

The name ‘Fiddler’s Green’ got up someone else’s nose a while ago.

At rabble.ca I read the following:

“I think London, Ontario probably has the most pretentious new street names. Perhaps the most grating to me is "Fiddler's Green". Ain't no Fiddler. Ain't no green.”

Yes, but it’s so lyrical and natural. Almost sweet.

However, it leads me to ask, if nature sells so well, why bury it?

***

I think answered my own question: Because it sells so well.

Have any names of suburbs flown up your nose?

(Thot: a new series of posts entitled Up Your Nose!

I’m on it).

Visit This Old Economist here.

Visit more It Strikes Me Funny here.

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The Crossword: 29 Down - drinks a lot

Saturday’s crossword (London Free Press) featured a fellow I have not heard of in dozens of years.

Solve 37 Across - Mr. Green Jeans’ TV pal.

Hint - 15 letters, starts with C - A, ends with R - O - O.

Answer - Captain Kangaroo


[Link to other ‘possibly’ well known music]

I raised my eyebrow after penning in my answer and wondered, “Whatever happened to that guy?”

Sure, I could have Googled him but I had more puzzle to solve and a Sudoku waiting.

And perhaps the puzzle solved my riddle for me anyway.

Solve 67 Across - amounts owed, 5 letters, starts wit D, ends with S.

Solve 29 Down - drinks a lot (arch. or literary), 5 letters, starts with T, ends with S.


Then solve 56 down - heavy beers, 4 letters, starts with A.

Did the crossword reveal his fate or did he have a decent retirement?

***

What did happen to the Captain?

Debts? Topes ales?

More Lite News here.

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The Long Road Back Pt 5: I’ll suck wind big time on Wednesday

Already I know this: I’ll be off my game (hockey) on Wednesday.

My skating will be rough, my shot will be worse. So, my goal will be to pass the puck quickly whenever it’s on my stick and make the opposing team of fifty-year-old (plus) players think I’m an astute playmaker. Or astute something-or-other. I’ll settle for astute anything.

I was a slug for two weeks. Didn't get close to 100 points/week.


["Yipes. The cushion is disappearing": photos GH]

Two weeks ago I was in Fenelon Falls, slacked off the fun and fitness routine a bit and dropped 29 bonus points. Sure, I collect bonus points so that I can drop them on occasion but I love a big cushion. I feel my loss.

The following week was worse. My wife and I visited Ottawa and once home I completed only 1 walk, 1 run and 1 ride and lost another 53 bonus points.


["Time to ride but no time to run? What's with that?"]

This past week I hit the bike hard. 134.5 mi. Got some points back. But completed zero runs, missed hockey again and will suffer on Wednesday.


["My motto - pass, pass, pass. I should have passed on the pie!"]

Plus, I’ll be carrying 14 pounds of turkey, stuffing, gravy, multiple side dishes and a rich dessert. Ok, maybe 2 desserts.

It is a long road back but - hopefully - I’ll have a bigger cushion and at least two runs by the end of the week.

Because this is Thanksgiving Monday and there’s still turkey in the house I’m pretty sure I’ll have a bigger something by week’s end.

***

How many calories in a drumstick? In a cup of gravy? In two slices of peach crumble pie?

Q: Do I really want to know?

Q: Was Rome built in a day?

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Will Joe Fontana create more jobs than you can shake a stick at?

Joe Fontana, so we were told by campaign co-chair Cheryl Miller, is only going to serve for one term if elected mayor of Deforest City. (He can do all that is needed for Londoners in one term).

Wait. There’s been a change.

“Fontana now says that is not the case - he’ll serve as long as Londoners want him, but the root of that discrepancy in his camp remains unclear.” (Oct. 9, London Free Press)


["Jobs are needed, but what fits with an age of austerity?"]

(I will digress. Let’s speculate re the root problem for all of 30 seconds. Trust me, we have the time. One of the co-chairs is impulsive and speaks without thinking clearly. Or, both co-chairs suffer from what I call ‘muddled thinking.’ Or, ‘serve one term’ sounded really clever a few weeks ago to someone demanding and, therefore, all-powerful - who will remain nameless at this time, though I think she has a name. Meanwhile, back at the ranch...)

Joe Fontana built his platform on the promise of a four-year tax freeze.

Tax freeze. Everybody’s hurting. No new taxes - that’s all the balm, spit and polish people need.

Wait. There’s been a change.

Mr. Fontana is adding another plank to his platform.

“He will now create 10,000 jobs in the next five years.” (LFP)

Believing that this action will allow young people to work in town instead of being forced to move and - quite possibly - get him elected at the same time (Hey, anything can be promised, anything can happen), Joe has now shimmied his way out to the end of a very long and skinny branch.

10,000 jobs in five years. That’s 2,000 jobs per year. That’s 166.67 jobs per month or 5.56 jobs per day.

By gosh, if he finds the magic formula and stays for a second term even I could be working again (Is that part-time or full-time, Joe?) by mid-April 2017.

I sure hope it's the perfect job for me and has nothing to do with adding a slice of cheese - in under 5 seconds or I’m doing the night shift - to someone’s greasy burger. Sorry, I digress.

Not that I wouldn’t love to see 10,000 new jobs over 5 years, or even 10 years for that matter.

But, I have to ask myself, in what place is Joe going to find 10,000 jobs that hasn’t been tried already?

What strings can he possibly pull that haven’t been pulled already?

Will he pull jobs out of a hat? Will he pull them out of thin air?

Or will he simply wait for a week and pull out another plank?

***

London’s election campaign just got a little more interesting at any rate, in my opinion.

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Recent Visitors: Hello to Belgium, France and Spain

Occasionally I check stats on the site meter found at the very bottom of this page.

For example, I check the location of some of my readers.


["Welcome to Canada, land of the red maple leaf"]

Rather than listing ‘on the couch’, ‘on a laptop’, or ‘in a Starbucks’ etc., the site meter lists location by city and country.

So cool.

Recently, visitors from Spain (Barcelona, Cataluna), France (Paris, Ile-de-France) and Belgium (Brussels, Brussels Hoofdstedelijk Gewest) dropped by - and likely stayed for over an hour and read dozens of posts each.

After I discovered this I wondered, what post interested or attracted readers from these countries?

I’d like to know. (I don’t speak European, so it was likely just an accident).


["Did they enjoy their visit or just hit "next blog"?]

I do know that I made the comment recently that austerity measures, due to growing financial difficulties and debt, will not be easily accepted.

Case in point:

While assembling a birdhouse in my shop several days ago I heard a CBC Radio report that stated protesters filled many a street in Brussels because of austerity measures. It was also mentioned the crowds in Brussels were not alone. Similar protests were taking place at that time in Spain, France and Italy.

Are my new visitors a coincidence? I think not. This is the world wide web after all.

To them I say, welcome. We’re not in the streets yet here in Canada but it may not be long.

***

Pssst. Wanna buy a birdhouse?

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Motorcycle Miles: East of the Putnam Community Center

Many will ask, “Where’s Putnam?”

Answer: East of Dorchester, north of the 401 where it, you know, dips.


“And where’s the community center?

Answer: South of Putnam but still north of the 401 dip.

“And what’s with the cows?”

I like biking east of the community center, even though the road is gravel for 2 km., because it leads to a high spot in the road that overlooks farmland that, in my mind, is nature’s version of paradise.

Corn fields have been harvested, trees are beginning to colour and cattle are lowing - down low in one of a few old valleys I’d like to hike with one eye on the lone donkey and a sturdy walking stick in hand.


Someone might well ask, “Would it actually be a ‘lone donkey’ if you were hiking nearby?”

Answer: Good one!

***

Please click here for photos from the nation’s capital, where cattle low and donkeys graze.

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Several Old Columns Pt 3: My mother walks me down Memory Lane

One of my mother’s now-treasured columns (re the Thirties) from January, 1993 ended abruptly in my opinion.


["Hey, I want to hear more about Great-uncle Arthur": photos GH]

“We could listen to old scratchy records on the Victrola and when the singer began to drag out his words, it was time to wind up the machine again.”

Maybe I was just ready for more, that’s all.

When she earlier mentions that her first pair of skates, received when she was 14, were “not white but I was thrilled just the same,” I stepped onto Memory Lane with her.


["Mother used 'Memory Lane' as a heading on many columns"]

I wasn’t thrilled to wear a black pair of figure skates for a few weeks (“The picks will kill me!”) because my friends wore hockey skates. Real skates.

We experienced real winters too.

My mother writes, “Winters were different when we were children because the snow came earlier and lasted longer. The weather seemed more stable; you could depend on it staying the same for a week or two, instead of changing every day so.”

Climate instability now has a name. Climate instability. Or climate change if you prefer.

She continues:“We sat near the stoves on cold winter evenings and read or played games of cards, sometimes popping a large bowl of popcorn. Once in a while mother would make a pan of fudge.”

About the reading, cards, popcorn and fudge. My own memories are almost exactly identical.

Card games were a blood sport when I was a kid. Mother added a line near the end of the article that put the two of us side by side on Memory Lane.

“Our own children also loved to play cards on summer holidays and the noise (there were 5 of us: Dad, Mom and Grandma Catton made a full house for Crazy Eights or Hearts) was ear-splitting, with laughter, disagreements (she’s being very kind), triumphant cries, and pouting because “You always win”.

I would imagine that any story a parent leaves behind would produce the same result - a trip down Memory Lane.


["Just scratching the surface"]

I’m happy to know I have more treasures to curl up with and perhaps share with you.

I also know, since both parents wrote numerous stories and columns, I’m just scratching the surface with this small bagful that was left in the mail.

I’m rich with treasure.

***

Try writing a few stories of your own past life.

Nobody will believe you about the '60s and your orange and black 'wear-like-iron' polyester pants, but give it a try anyway!

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“Last photos of Ottawa trip with quiz questions”: The Answers

Last week I asked readers tough questions about five photos taken during a recent trip to Ottawa.

Being a fair-minded man (fairly often), I think it’s about time for the answers, before I forget what I saw, where I went, and how I got there.

Photo 1. “Which Group of Seven painter did this work? Is this a prohibited photo?” Answers: Lawren Harris. Yes.


2. “I took this photo inside which aforementioned building?” Answer: The National Gallery


3. “Inside which building was this picture taken?” Answer: The War Museum


4. “Name the brand of smokes pictured below”: Answer: Virginia


5. “Name the famous playwright smoking his brains out”: Answer: Tennessee Williams


FYI - No monetary prizes will be awarded because the mini-vacation left be flat out broke. However, if you got all six correct, let me know.

Global recognition is almost assured.

***

If you believe that bit about global recognition you must be new around these parts.

So, how do you like Canada so far?

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Several Old Columns Pt 2: “Great-uncle Arthur” - his name lives on

In January, 1993 an article by my mother (Edith Jane Harrison) was published in the Norwich Gazette entitled ‘The Thirties: A little went a long way.’

I have a copy of it thanks to Carlisle Penney, a former resident of Norwich, at present a resident of London, who still subscribes to The Gazette and left a few 18 - 19-year old columns written by my parents in my mailbox on a when my wife and I were likely galavanting around our nation’s capital and spending my hard-earned money as if there was no tomorrow.

I’m so glad he did.

I’ve read several of the columns by now and have been rewarded for my efforts several times over.

About ‘The Thirties: A little went a long way.’

I notice my mother liked the colon ( : ) as much as I do now. Why, I can barely start the day without at least one or two. (Sure, look at earlier posts if you don’t believe me).

Part of a paragraph, mid-story, piqued my interest.

“Great-uncle Arthur always had a large garden; he would drop by with baskets of this and that, and he kept chickens and a cow - without him we would have been worse off after Dad died.”


[“Great-uncle Arthur and I have similar facial features.”]


["Uncle Arthur, Aunt Edith's grave stone, Norwich, Ont.": photos GH]

“They (Arthur and his wife) had no children, but he planted and harvested each year and no doubt helped other families besides ours. Aunt Edith was a great cookie baker, I especially remember her ginger cookies, my favourites.”


["Ida Belle Catton, my mother's mother"]

I wonder if my mother was named after her Aunt Edith? I wonder if my middle name, Arthur, is a connection to her great-uncle? If so, we both share a connection to very hard-working and generous people.

I also learned my mother had an Uncle George who “lived around the corner”, worked at the fertilizer factory (I know where that used to stand) and was my grand-mother’s half-brother.

Now, I know my Great-grandmother Gordon was married twice, so perhaps George was from her first marriage. If so, my family tree just got a bit more complicated - and that’s okay, because I hear there is strength in diversity.


["My great-grandmother - a Campbell by birth - married first a Gordon, then a Robbins"]

Finally, I noticed my mother said that without Arthur’s help “we would have been worse off after Dad died.”

She wrote the column when she was about 70-years old, and probably remembered Arthur fondly. He was a help to a family that was perhaps doing poorly or facing struggles because there was no man in the house. And as mother, at 70, wrote she remembered those hard times without her father - her Dad.


["Lawrence or Lorne Catton, my mother's Dad"]

I’m glad those feelings about her Dad lived on inside her.

And live on in her writings.

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