Decluttering: The new habit is forming but...

Declutter Box 3 will be delivered to the Good Will today on my way to a 50-plus hockey game. I think someone will be impressed with this boxful of my old stuff, especially the electric drill.


The original chuck is still taped to the electric cord!

On my way home from the drop off center I’ll pick up another box or two. The new habit of decluttering is forming, a couple of rooms are a lot tidier than when I started, but I need to place empty boxes in prominent locations (e.g., beside the door to my study, beside my exercise bike) to remind me of my cleanup goals.


[“Next up. Camping gear”: photos GH]

I face a real challenge in the room I’m tackling next - a basement storage room/workshop. It needs a thorough cleaning, and it’s piled high with old beer-making equipment and camping gear that once cost a lot of money.

Some hard choices ahead.

***

Please click here for more about decluttering.

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Fun and Fitness: “What do you do with the extra miles?”

I used to say, “I want to live until I’m 87.” But I’ve been doing so well riding 100-plus miles per week on my exercise bike and collecting ‘extra’ miles (375 - that’s an NR, new record), I think I can upgrade that comment.


Here goes: I want to live until I’m 90 years old. That gives me 5 years of gravy.

(Definition - gravy: If I live until I’m 85 I will draw my pension for as many years as I contributed to it. Every year past that is ‘gravy.’ : ) Thick beef gravy.)

Recently I was asked, “What do you do with the extra miles?”

Good question. And the answer is... not much. If I’m away for the weekend, don’t get in my last ride or two of the week and complete less than 100 miles, I subtract the difference from the extra miles and remind myself that it’s okay to miss 100 every once in awhile. So, the extra miles act as a bank. When I’m short on miles I make a withdrawal.

The question got me thinking. Since I’m collecting extra miles so often, perhaps I should raise my goal to 110 miles per week. I’m already doing it now, but can I do it for the next two years?

Or until I’m 90?

***

Please click here for more Fun and Fitness.

http://itstrikesmefunny.blogspot.com/2011/05/fun-and-fitness-playing-on-big-rink-fun.html

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The Workshop: “I could live here”

If I was a chickadee I’d check out the floor plan of the General Store.


["Barn board duplex with light blue wash"]


["Coca Cola at 10 cents a bottle. Good deal!": photos GH]

Nice digs, I’d say.

Antiques are right next door in case I need any furnishings.


["Rescued hemlock took the wash well. The radio works!"]


What tunes are on the old radio? Rockin’ Robin? Cool.

If I was a chickadee, I’d move right in.

***

Astute chickadees might appreciate that I used only rescued lumber too.

Please click here for more (and earlier photos of the above houses) from The Workshop.

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Dad’s Navy Days: PT 7 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

John Woods, writer from Scotland, asked for information related to my father and his navy training (and mishap) on the shores near Irvine, 1941.

I sent him a boat load.

Hi John,

Please find below two excerpts and snaps of poor quality photographs from 'St. Nazaire to Singapore: The Canadian Amphibious War 1941 - 1945 Volume 1', the second excerpt is my dad's story related to his quality time on Irvine's sandbars.

*

"Our LCAs (i.e., landing craft assault) were then moored in Irvine Harbour on the Ayrshire coast. We were housed in Nissen huts and tents at HMS Dundonald. The pubs of the harbour were well used. Our camp was surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Some enterprising matelots found them penetrable, as recorded in one of our photos of the time. Len Birkenes and others went forth and back through the fence to enjoy Scottish hospitality.

"The Schuyts were the biggest exercises thus far manned by Combined Operations. In conception and organization they were planting the seed that matured on D-day. The exercise troops were loaded from the mainland and great excitement was present since the beaches would be attended by dignitaries including King George VI, Winston Churchill and our new chief, Lord Louis Mountbatten. They had assembled to witness The Shape of Things to Come.

"Doug Harrison's account begins in the middle of the first dark night. We planned to surprise the enemy and of course there were surprises for us too." (Author unknown)

(re 'Schuyts' - And I quote: "The name picked was that of a class of agreeable small Dutch vessels carrying cargo about the peacetime European coast and river ways." I suppose the name suited exercises undertaken by Combined Ops that included the Merchant Marine).

*

Exercise Schuyt 1: Marooned on a Submerged Sand Bar, by Doug Harrison, L/Sea (Leading Seaman), RCNVR

It was so damn dark.

"Keep closed up!"

I can still hear Andy Wedd's voice to this day. (I am glad I saw him shortly before his death).

At the night exercise the time of arrival was midnight. The crew was Koyl, Art Bailey, Stoker Lank (and his pail - Stoker Willard Lank was always chewing kelp) and myself, with a full complement of English soldiers.

Believe me, these fellows were sick soldiers. Bailey and I lashed ourselves down as best we could and emptied the helmets as the soldiers handed them up.

Destination or landing? I don't remember.

Troon? I can only vaguely remember two perimeter lights in the distance.

We were perhaps headed south and it was rough. Our craft ran aground on a sand bar. (All of what follows is true).

Koyl ordered everybody - Bailey and I - overboard to look or tread for deeper water. Koyl came too.

First we tried rocking the craft in conjunction with the motors. No luck. Wandering in sea boots, underwear, and duffel coat, I fell into deeper water (which wasn't too cold, fortunately) and hollered, "Over here, sir!"

So we worked our asses off to free the LCA and were successful. The soldiers helped to rock the craft.

Koyl's fuming, "We are going to be late!" And he is flotilla commander. Bailey and Koyl were able to get aboard. I wasn't and they drove off and left me out in the water.

I was scared, but I felt I knew Mr. Koyl. I discarded all my clothing but uniform pants and underwear, found a sand bar and waited it out. They made their landing eventually but... How is he going to find me? This is unbelievable!

I thrashed my arms, swam on my back for short stints to maintain circulation and after an eternity I saw an Aldis lamp blinking. Motors were cut, then revved up, and cut. Koyl had a fair idea perhaps but I don't know how he knew where to locate me.

Eventually our voices came reasonably close together. I was caught in the light of the Aldis lamp and picked up after one and a half or two hours waiting. My hands were all wrinkled. I felt all in.

When we returned to Irvine, Koyl, Bailey and I hurried to a local pub (now known as the Harbour Light). We were given hot porridge, rum, and our clothes were taken to be dried, and we were wrapped in blankets. All of this help came from ladies. It was late afternoon before we left the pub - Royal Sovereign or King George?

I was a very lucky fellow. In the darkness Koyl and Bailey took awhile before they missed me. I didn't really know what went amiss but the fact that the landing had to be made on time was uppermost in Koyl's mind.

*

Beside an accompanying B and W photo of the King's Arms Hotel, likely supplied by those who compiled the book (and not my father), is the following caption: The Public House, the Kings Arms where the Skinner family revived Doug Harrison and the rest of Jack Kolye's Boat Crew. They used hot drinks, hot porridge and hot blankets. Pub's name has been changed, perhaps in honour of the occasion to "The Harbour Light."


*

Father was 21 - 22 years old at the time; the nickname 'Cactus' appears on his Canadian naval records. No mystery there.

***

Please click here to read PT 6 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

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Decluttering: Box 3 - leaving the house on schedule

A few weeks ago I started decluttering the house after setting a few reasonable goals for myself.

E.g., I will try to send one box of duds to the Good Will or curb every two weeks. (Twenty boxes by Dec. 31).

Two weeks ago tomorrow, box 2 hit the road. Box 3 is ready to go today.


["Hubcaps, CD boxes, old drill, old flashlights, glass jars - goodbye!"]

I haven’t sold anything on Kijiji yet. It’s humbling to learn that other people don’t need or want my old stuff.

I mean, who wouldn’t love an old hubcap or two?

***

Please click here for more about decluttering.

Please click here for even more about decluttering.

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Fun and Fitness: Playing on the big rink - fun

I plan to ride 100 miles per week on my exercise bike for the rest of my life.

Why? For fun and fitness. In my mind, they go together.

While I’m pedalling I’m also reading and turning pages. I recently read about several ships that sunk on the Great Lakes, including the Edmund Fitzgerald, 1975.


["Last week - 117.6 mi. NR (new record) - 375 extra miles. I'm almost svelte": photos GH]


["Roddy Doyle's book, A Star Called Henry, is done. Excellent. I highly recommend it to all. Above - the current lineup."]

No fun there, really, but the pedalling keeps me fit for hockey and that’s where some of the fun comes in.

For example, last week I sent my big slapshot wide of the net (w-i-d-e), but it went straight toward my winger and he almost redirected it past the goalie. I told folks I planned it that way.

Tomorrow we play on the big rink at Western Fair Grounds. Come on out. Our skill will amaze you. You’ll have some great laughs.

I know I will.

***

Please click here for more Fun and Fitness.

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“IT Strikes” Again: PT 2 You know it’s time to replace your old Speedo when...

[PT 1 was posted yesterday. Go ahead, read it first here. The following column was first published in November, 2002 and yes, I actually used to shave my legs and wear Speedos. gah]

You know it’s time to replace your old Speedo when...

“...I’d like to buy a swimsuit. A Speedo. Do you carry them?” The first clerk stopped the jitterbug momentarily and gazed at me cautiously.

“Oh, we carry a complete line of Speedos. Would you also like to see some other swimsuits? We have a wide variety of styles.”

“Yes, a wide variety of styles,” repeated the other clerk with my arm still in tow.

(Was it just me, or did the clerks emphasize the ‘w-i-d-e’ variety? But, there’s no denying it, I am at the age where the only comments I get about my appearance in a Speedo are ones I don’t want to hear).

Nevertheless, I continued in a determined, fearless manner. “No, I think I’ll stick to the Speedo. Just point the way. I’ll get it on my own, thanks.”


["The days of skimpy suits are gone for me."]

“Gee, we’ll take you there,” the first said helpfully, 100-watt-enthusiasm returning. “They’re hiding in a corner and you might miss them.”

“And what size are we looking for today?” asked the second, still hugging my arm.

I wasn’t prepared to throw out any personal information about myself in a public setting. That was the reason I wanted the clerks just to point me in the right direction.

Now I would have to go through the rigours of having someone breathe over my shoulder while I fumbled with the suits until I found the magic number. Or worse, wait until one of the clerks so helpfully found it for me.

(The process of purchasing a Speedo could only be made more embarrassing if the clerk read out a verbal caution over the loudspeaker while I carried the Speedo to the register; “You can buy the Speedo, mister, but please bear in mind that people will be looking at you for all the wrong reasons.”)

However, with less pain than anticipated the clerks helped me finish my shopping, and in order to make life a little easier suggested I buy a second pair at a sale price. I bought six pairs. Hopefully those two will be managing a store in Winnipeg by the time I’m mourning the loss of lycra in my last Speedo.

gah

***

Please click here to read PT 1 You know it’s time to replace your old Speedo when...

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Austerity Without Anxiety: New duckies - almost

People with a frugal streak will be proud of me. My old duckies recently sprung a leak and I tried to cover the holes with duct tape.

To no avail, unfortunately. After 10 years of wear the rubber was cracked and weak and didn’t offer up a surface capable of repair. Stink. They were starting to get comfortable.




["The socks ran Boston in 2005. Now they'll walk to the coffee shop": photos GH]


But I resisted the temptation to buy new ones. I have old rubber boots that haven’t seen much service over the years - because of the rubber duckies - and not only have they passed muster during this week’s wet weather but I look pretty darn stylish when I wear the shortened rubber boots with my proud Canadian Ironman socks.

Rain is in the forecast everyday this week. I’ll wear shorts, cutoff boots and Ironman socks to the local coffee shop a few times and show them off. I bet they'll last for 10 years.

My wife and siblings will likely say I’m turning into my dad. I don’t mind. Why worry? His wallet was always full of paper money. More than coffee money too.

BTW. How much did I save by not buying new high-end duckies? (Ten years ago I think I paid over $70.)

***

Please click here for more Austerity Without Anxiety.

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Dad’s Navy Days: PT 6 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

John Woods, a columnist from Scotland recently wrote to say he is willing to do a story about my father’s mishap in Scotland (1941) “to see if it stirs a few memories.”

He requested a few details about my father. I sent the following:

My dad, Gordon Douglas Harrison (Doug) died in 2003 and I buried half his ashes in his hometown, Norwich Ontario, early in that year. 

However, only last summer did I dispose of most of the ash that remained according to a promise I uttered. I wrote two columns about last year's adventure (I can send along if you're interested), and future articles will be written. (Book? Movie deal?)

I've since discovered he visited relatives and a pub in London, England at Christmastime, 1942 and served at another training center in British Columbia, 1944.

If the Irvine and London pubs are still standing I may have to do my own tour.

For now I'll get to the task of typing up his 'Irvine adventure'. Cheers, Gord

Mr. Woods got back quickly with a few more interesting details. He wrote:

Hi, Gordon, Think I've cleared up something for you.

During the war years there was no such pub as the Harbour Lights - it was then known as the Victoria Bar and was run by the Dobson (or Dodson) family. It changed its name to the Harbour Lights in the 70s or 80s.

However the Kings Arms Hotel in the High Street, across the river and about a mile away, was owned by a man called Alf Skinner so it would seem that this is where your dad was taken.

It sits right in the centre of Irvine and is one of the oldest and best-known hostelries in the town

Certainly the picture you've sent shows the Kings Arms - albeit taken a good few years ago.


It hasn't changed all that much and I'll send you a more up to date pic ASAP.

Got the info from May McEwan who does a "Down Memory Lane" column for the Irvine Herald and is the font of all knowledge about things past in the town.

This tidies things up quite nicely and lets me write a decent tale.

John.

It was then I asked John to send me a copy of the news story once it hit the streets and he recently obliged.

More to follow.

***

Please click here to read PT 5 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

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“IT STRIKES” Again: You know it’s time to replace your old Speedo when...

[The following column was first published in November, 2002. I raced in triathlons way back then. I shaved my legs. I wore Speedo bathing suits. Never again! gah]


["Grandson Ollie loves reading my stories over and over again": photo GH]

You know it’s time to replace your old Speedo when...

There’s a moment in every swimmer’s life when it’s obvious it’s time to buy a new bathing suit. To prevent the embarrassment of getting caught in a suit passed its prime, I check the condition of my Speedo after every swim, turning it over in my hands trying to spot the inevitable loss of lycra.

Recently, to be on the safe side of the lycra ledger, I asked a fellow swimmer to do a visual check of the backside of my swimsuit. I can’t explain why I was so bold to use this other method of checking. I just knew if my friend could see my ‘Goose Island Pale Ale’ tattoo (can’t explain that either) I was due for a new Speedo.

Really, the question just popped out as I exited the pool at the downtown Y.

I thought my wee bank account was safe for another week or two until a precocious young swimmer asked his father, “Daddy, why does that man have a picture of a duck on his b...?”


["Tony, smile. Then check the back of my shorts!": photo by Michelle B.]

The embarrassment didn’t end there.

You see, when the skimpy Speedo tires it must be hurriedly replaced by another model so that one’s swimming stays on schedule. So last week found me in White Oaks Mall in search of a small, quiet, gently-lit store off in a corner where I could complete a discrete piece of business in an invisible fashion.

I stepped hesitatingly into what appeared to be a promising location.

“Hey! Hiya there, sir. Can we be of any help at all?” asked one young, bouncy clerk as a second took my arm and gracefully guided me to the centre of the store where the lights were definitely too bright and the music far to uptempo. (No wonder the clerk was bouncing).

“Well, yes. okay, I guess you can. I’d like to buy a swimsuit. A Speedo. Do you carry them?” The first clerk stopped the jitterbug momentarily and gazed at me cautiously.

“Oh, we carry a complete line of Speedos. Would you also like to see some other swimsuits? We have a wide variety of styles.”

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion.

***

Please click here for more “IT STRIKES” Again.

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Cartoon in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh” 8

“Bob noticed for the second Hallowe’en in a row that the town was lost in a total blackout.”

gah

***

Please click here for “Life’s like that, eh” 7

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Austerity without Anxiety: By the ounce

My parents grew accustomed to thin times over the course of their lifetimes.

Some of their frugal habits rubbed off on me.


For example, I like to dilute juice from the supermarket. 10% juice, 90% water. Saves money. Tastes fine. If I turn into my parents by diluting juice, that's fine by me.

When more thin times come, maybe such habits will come in handy.

***

Please click here for more about austerity.

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Zoom w a View: PT 2 “I’ll never win this battle”

Admittedly, the dandelions will win.

But at least I have a strategy that will help me battle them to the end without losing face. A pail on the porch. Dandelion stabber at the ready.

I have the feeling, however, the hardy dandelion will soon be the least of my worries as I try (insert laugh track here) to keep my lawn free of interlopers.

The backyard is bordered with ferns and wild violets, transplanted from a campsite on the Bruce Peninsula that my wife and I rented for many years.


“They will look lovely in our yard,” my wife told me as she filled the trunk of the car with buckets of fern and violets after a camping trip 15 - 20 years ago.

“Cool,” I said.

And 15 years ago they did look cool.


Fast forward, May, 2011. Wild violets have spread across the entire back yard. Ferns are close behind.


Fast forward, May, 2041. I’ll be 91 years old. I’ll want to visit my shed, then sit down for awhile and think about making a birdhouse if I can find the darn hammer. Four-foot tall ferns will block my way as I search for the workshop door. Violets will blanket Thames Park, 4 blocks north of the house and be marching toward Tecumseh Park, home of the London Majors and Majorettes.


["Violets and ferns are on the move": photos GH]

Dandelions are in for the fight of their lives.

***

Please click here for PT 1 “I’ll never win this battle”

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Zoom w a View: Everything’s boomin’

Is it just me, or are pollen headaches heavier this year?

In my ‘hood and in my yard, everything’s boomin’ and bloomin’. Healthy signs in spite of the headaches.




[Everything’s boomin’: photos GH]

***

Please click here to see more Zoom w a View.

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George Ellias: A Bob Dylan fan and more

A musician from California connected with me recently. Maybe he’d discovered by second website (...Hit Singles by G.Harrison) and thought my work was brilliant. Maybe not.

George Ellias wrote:

I am a musician from Los Angeles, California. I found your blog while searching through blogspot.com. I was very impressed and delighted by the content.

(How could he not be?)

I also noticed that you a Bob Dylan fan, so am I.

(You know, I know, Bob - even at 70 - is tops in so many unique ways.)

I am looking for a select few bloggers to give a few honest words about my latest EP album. I will send you a code to download it for free, or I can send it in a zip file. I hope you accept the opportunity. A short paragraph would be enough.

You can do a search for my name on google to find out more about me and my music. Feel free to.

-George Ellias

I found George’s approach interesting. He provided no links to websites, no “in your face” advertising, just his email address. If I was willing to put some effort into a search then he’d send me a code for a download.

I searched his name and found a few details about the young fellow, e.g., George Ellias is a singer/songwriter from Los Angeles, California. His interest in folk music started at a very young age. In 2004 George Ellias left High School, his old bands and traveled...


I also found a spot where I could sample a few of his tunes. (bandcamp.com)

I sampled and wrote back.

Hi George.

Email received. Bob Dylan fan, eh! I'll get back to you re short review asap. GHarrison at IT STRIKES

George emailed a code; I downloaded his songs; I filed them randomly in File 17 - Gord’s Collection (Files 1 - 16 each contain 250 - 300 songs, various artists).

Inside File 17 (I’m listening to it again now), George joined a few heavy hitters, e.g., Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Gord Lightfoot; a few up-and-comers, e.g., Madison Violet, Sarah Jarosz; a few others, e.g., Wilco, Daryl Braithwaite, Vince Guaraldi.

Would I notice George when one of his songs came up? What would I notice?

Review: George certainly knows how to play the guitar. I occasionally catch a whiff of Dylan in chord selection. Harmonica accompaniment is very good too. Any Dylan fan will notice George is definitely influenced by him. In my mind, that’s a good thing, eh.

George’s voice is reedy, and will strengthen and deepen with age, with more years on the road where life ain’t easy.

George’s lyrical style suits his age and one can feel Bob’s touch there too, though I don’t think George is trying to be someone he’s not. He’s the kind of guy who comes off as being comfortable in his own skin.

One day, when I’m not too busy, I’ll take both Bob and George aside and say, “Sometimes you try to squeeze too many syllables into a line. Why is that? Fewer words is often better, in my humble opinion. Call me. I’ll edit your work for free.” (It must be the school-teacher in me).

Recommended: Ghost Town

***

re George: Please click here for Artist Biography @ folk alley.


re Gord's possible Hit Single.

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Dad’s Navy Days: PT 5 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

Happiness reigns.

I have connected with two men in Scotland who may be able to connect me with folks who helped revive my father with hot porridge, rum and dry clothes (after a naval training mishap) in 1941.

And because I have their email addresses I don’t have to buy expensive international stamps.

Just over a week ago, a few emails between John Leo Scott (a barman at the King’s Arms Hotel, Irvine) and I flew back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean. I learned The Harbour Lights was once called The Victoria. He learned my dad once wrote a column by the same name as someone in Irvine. I learned he was serving supper to John Woods, a local writer I’d mentioned here earlier. He learned I was persistent - I kept asking about the Skinners. ("Are you serving them supper right now? Drinks? What are they drinking?")


["While training in Scotland, young sailors slept in Bell tents near Irvine": GH]

Because he was acting barman and waiting tables I next directed my attention toward Mr. Woods, the writer.

I sent the following email:

Dear Mr. Woods,

In August 2008 you wrote a story entitled 'King’s Arms family snap up the Harbour Lights' (concerning the Scott family) and I recently linked to it online while searching for information re both pubs.

(While writing the above I learned you were at the King's Arms, enjoying a meal w your wife. Small world, I say. Smaller if pub owners are armed w a Blackberry). 

Based on a story my father wrote re WW2 experiences in Irvine, and accompanying photo/caption, I thought the two pubs were one and the same.

I appreciate knowing that both names and pubs survive and hope a few local Skinners do as well. My father writes that a few ladies from the Skinner family helped provide hot porridge and rum and dry clothes after an unusual mishap in the water offshore Irvine in 1941 or 1942. I would love to thank any from the family connected to my father's story in some way.

(I have just been informed by John Scott that you are interested in collecting more information re the story or characters).

Dad mentions other pubs and towns (e.g., Top Hat Pub, Southend on Sea) but his mishap off the shores of Irvine and how it was resolved (though I'm a whisky man myself) holds the most interest for me.

Hopefully, we can connect soon.

Kind regards,

Gord Harrison

The next day Mr. Woods emailed the following reply:

Hi, Gordon.

Real coincidence that I was in the restaurant when your e-mail came in.

As a former barman at the Kings Arms I know the Scott family very well.

They originally came from Lanarkshire and took over the town centre hotel in the 1950s - this is the third generation of the family to be involved in the running of the hotel.

I arrived in Irvine in 1973 so I don't really know who ran the Harbour Lights - which is obviously a pub at the harbour - at the time of your dad's experience.

But I think I know someone who may be able to fill in a few blanks.

I'm now working as a journalist at the Irvine Herald and I intend to do a wee story about the incident to see if it stirs a few memories.

It would help if you could send me your dad's first name, where he came from, maybe the name of his craft and any other details - eg how he came to be stranded, how he was rescued etc and anything else which might be of interest - although I realise it may be difficult.

A couple of details about yourself would also be helpful.

Nice to hear from you, hope I can come up with something.

Cheers,

John.

Yes folks, more to follow.

***

Please click here to read PT 4 - A door opens at the King’s Arms Hotel

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Zoom w a View: Hopping the fence

A neighbour’s plant, a climbing vine of some sort, is hopping the fence and spreading its wings through the slats.

I welcome its new spring growth.






[“Spread your wings”: photos by GH]

***

Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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Bits and Pieces: PT 5 “Taxes take 41% of pay” Gasp??

[The notion that a consensus existed on cutting social spending was misleading. If anything, a consensus appeared to exist not to cut social spending. An Angus Reid poll, taken in late April 1993... found that almost 80 per cent of Canadians opposed any funding cuts to medicare, and almost 90 per cent opposed any funding cuts to education. pg 34, L. McQuaig, Shooting the Hippo]

Yesterday I said, “And what does the average Canadian family want? If you’re an average Canadian let me know.”

I said that because senior economist Niels Veldhuis (Fraser Institute) says, “Taxes have grown over the past 49 years to the point that the government is now the largest expenditure facing a family” (April 27, London Free Press), perhaps hoping the average Canadian would fall for his line of guff, clutch his chest and demand smaller government and fewer taxes and reduced social programs.

I’m pretty sure that’s what the elite want, but I believe their goals in 2011 differ greatly from those of the average working stiff (even though I referred to a 1993 poll).

Kevin O’Leary, seen nightly on the Lang and O’Leary Exchange (CBC TV), is on record for saying he supports a corporate tax rate of 0 per cent.

0 per cent. Of course, he’s a millionaire, he can afford private education for any children he might have now or in the future, he can afford private health care wherever he can find it, he can afford to let corporations (he’s the head of a business empire) get away with zero taxes. Why, he’d absolutely frickin’ love it!

What he doesn’t say is that the tax rate (all taxes) of the average Canadian family (41% on income of $72, 393) will likely rise substantially three seconds after he gets his wish.

O’Leary would love small government, lower taxes, fewer social benefits. O’Canadians want something else.

As mentioned earlier, 80 per cent of Canadians are opposed to any funding cuts to medicare, and almost 90 per cent are opposed to any funding cuts to education.

From Shooting the Hippo:

This fits with the results of polls done by Environics. Dasko (pollster) said that support for social programs remains strong... the public supported the idea of reforming - rather than cutting - social programs. “People think there are inefficiencies and abuses in social programs and strongly feel that those should be ferreted out,” said Dasko.

Dasko also notes that while the public supports the idea of reforming programs, it is not primarily motivated by a desire to save money... the goal of ending inefficiencies ranked above the goal of saving money. Interestingly, however, the polling showed that people suspect that the government’s main motivation in overhauling the programs is to save money. (pg. 34)

Canadian readers are welcome to say the following:

Times have changed

McQuaig was referring to old news, e.g., polls from the 1990s

This is 2011. Liberals are out. Conservatives are in. Canadians want real change.

I have to ask. What kind of change does the average Canadian want?

Does the average Canadian family want a 39% tax rate, instead of 41%, and reduced government services (e.g., related to medicare and education) as a result?

Does the average Canadian feel that, in spite of what the Fraser Institute says, he is surviving in a satisfactory or excellent manner and doesn’t need to live by the same goals as the elite?

If you’re an average Canadian, let me know.

(Mr. O’Leary. No need to write).

***

Please click here to read PT 4 “Taxes take 41% of pay” Gasp??

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It Strikes Me Funny: As GM, I make tough calls

Truth be told, our Fifty-Plus League could run for another 40 years without any help from me.

Its two teams are composed of healthy, fair-minded players. Weekly attendance over four years has been in the 90% range. No checking. No rough stuff. No tough guys trying to prove a point.

As acting and under-paid General Manager, I rejigged the teams at the end of the winter schedule and the first game of the summer season, held yesterday, ended in a draw, 2 - 2.

Two very good teams. Balanced, fair, equal talent on offense and defense.

I'm sure you're wondering. How do I do it? How is it that I'm so brilliant?


["Years of hockey experience sure helps me out": photo of GH]

Some leagues divvy up players by assigning each a number or letter, e.g., a 1, 2, 3, or an A, B, C, based on ability, then spread the talent around equally.

I don’t use that method.

I divide players into five categories, then spread them around evenly.

1. Offense. Moves the puck forward with some skill.

2. Offense Plus. Moves the puck forward and back checks.

3. Defense. Likes to play defense.

4. Defense Plus. Likes to play defense, can skate backwards and block shots.

5. Half the time player. He doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing half the time.

Sure, I have to make some tough calls, but my system works.

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Please click here for more It Strikes Me Funny.

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Zoom w a View: “I’ll never win this battle”

The photos tell a simple tale.

Photo 1: “The battle is joined”


Photo 2: “Did I win the day?”


Photo 3: “No. The fighting is not done. And in the church lawn across the street, 4 million more dandelions wait for the right moment to cross into my territory.”


Photo 4: “I admit defeat. I see a chair. I think... cold beverage.”


["Concerning dandelions, maintain a sense of humour at all times": photos GH]

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