Thursday, August 13, 2009

Live Small and Prosper: Prepare now for less meat in the future

Too bad it’s BBQ season, but cut back by about 10 per cent for starters, I say.

From A Small History of Progress:

“Population growth is slowing, but by 2050 there will be 3 billion more on earth.”

“We may be able to feed that many in the short run, but we’ll have to raise less meat (which takes ten pounds of food to make one pound of food), and we’ll have to spread that food around.”

“What we can’t do is keep consuming as we are.”


[For those who think 2050 is a long, long way off, think about the age of the youngest member of your family. By 2050 my grandson Ollie will be 43, just a young pup. Twins due in September will be 41.]


["Ollie and friend will be young pups in 2050": photo GAH]

Cutting back meat consumption by even 10 per cent - to prepare for a frugal future - will be a big challenge for my fellow Canadians. We get 32 per cent of our fat from meat (and alternatives) and we love our meat - our growing waistlines say as much.

Why a big challenge?

Ingrained habits - we eat what we want when we want. Big portions too. We’ve lived in a world without limits for 60 years.

Marketing and media - “eat eat eat” is a constant message. Put all the capital letters together from M and M Meats and you get MMM.

Big business - the meat industry is a giant enterprise and will see the growing population as business opportunity, not a reason to conserve.

Governments - can politicians find a way to effectively educate and encourage consumers/voters to conserve resources and trim the fat off their lifestyle because a growing population threatens resources? How can they sell the message we live in a country with a market economy that is unsustainable?

HMMM.

***

Are we trapped? Is it impossible to reduce consumption without a future crisis?

.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Simple Life: I was too slow to catch her

While sitting on my porch yesterday morning with large coffee in hand, a bicyclist glided by and caught my full attention.

[I put my coffee down. That’s a sign my ‘full’ attention had been severely grabbed.]

The cyclist was out of the ordinary.

It was a woman with curly gray hair, definitely in her mid-seventies. She reminded me of my mother, pedaled expertly on a lovely bike and made me think that everyone should own and operate a bicycle - well into their senior years.

I rushed inside to get my camera.


["She was gone! Likely popped a wheely": photo GAH]

But I had no luck getting a picture. She’d disappeared around a corner, likely popped a wheely or two and was likely indoors making some tea and toast.

Trust me on this one - we should all bike onto our seventies.

***

Eighties? You tell me.

.

Live Small and Prosper: “If civilization is to survive...”

I flipped through ‘A Short History of Progress’ last night looking for a quote, possibly for an upcoming article.

[Summer will end (actually, has it even started?), my series re ‘unique local neighbourhoods’ will end as well, and I’ll strike a new course, likely a brilliant one.]

I think a few articles could spring from this quote by Ronald Wright:

“If civilization is to survive, it must live on the interest, not the capital, of nature.”

“Ecological markers suggest that in the early 1960s, humans were using about 70 per cent of nature’s yearly output: by the early 1980s we’d reached 100 per cent; and in 1999, we were at 125 per cent. Such numbers may be imprecise but their trend is clear - they mark the road to bankruptcy.”


From that one quote several titles for articles come to mind:

“We’re eating too much of our planet too quickly”

“The bright side of the recession from Mother Earth’s point of view”


“Should we schedule another recession for the sake of future generations?”

“Can we dial back our lifestyle by even 10 per cent?”

“What happens when North America applies for bankruptcy?”

The book might be called A Short History of Progress for good reason.

***

Can you see evidence that we’re eating too much of our planet too quickly?

.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

It Strikes Me Funny: We should go to war against the machines Pt 2

[Please read Pt 1 for some context]

Perhaps the city of London needs to take a step back in time.

I don’t think it would be considered backward, however, to allow men and women to do some jobs today that machines are now doing.

When we consider London’s rising unemployment figures (i.e. 10.9 per cent, the second-highest urban rate in the country) today should be the day we consider going to war against some of our machines.


["How many people does this machine replace?": photo link]



For example: In the areas in which we’re bleeding jobs (the auto industry, tourism, manufacturing, construction, transportation and warehousing) are there ways to reduce our reliance on machines for production, maintenance, delivery (help me here) and rely more on human muscle?

I admit, we built mighty machines in order to help with the cause of mass production, to keep up with high demand, to produce cost savings etc., but do some of those conditions apply today?

What is more important now?

Should we be thinking less about mass production, just in time delivery (in the auto sector, for one) and the employment of machines, and more about the employment of men and women?

What machines could we unplug or refuse to fuel in order to give someone a job?

(And, would the machine fight back?)

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Deforest City Blues: I’m stuck in this ol’ town

I’m not much for talking about the weather.

If I’m browsing at a bookstore and somebody asks if it’s hot enough for me I’ll give a ‘six of one, half-dozen of the other’ type of shrug and keep looking for a good book at a bargain price.


Chances are, if it's really hot, I won’t want to discuss anything in much detail. Too much effort.

[I'm sitting in front of a fan right now so I'll tell you I had good luck with bargain books yesterday.

Long Way Down (re a motorcycle trip, and I love road trips) for $7.99.

song for the blue ocean (the Silent Spring of our time, so I’m told) for $5.99.

And The Suicidal Planet: How to prevent global climate catastrophe (there may still be time to slow or undo some damage we have caused) for $4.99.

Can you beat that for under 20 bucks?

I’m waiting.]


However, though I don’t talk much about the weather, I'm aware that July was a bit of a bummer for those who love hot summer days. And August didn’t start out much better.

Then, without warning (I don’t watch weather reports on TV either), Deforest City was smacked with a couple of warm days in a row this week and the humidity has risen through the roof.

I would have told you sooner but I was stuck to the vinyl seats in my van.

Good thing I had some reading material with me.

.

Another hit single: Blue Moon

Backgrounder: “I wrote this song while going through a ‘Bill Monroe Kentucky Bluegrass’ phase. All I need to do now is learn how to play the mandolin or banjo.” gaharrison

Blue Moon

1. Borrowed two dollars from my mother,
borrowed five dollars from my pa.
Said the money was for groceries.
Instead, I spent it at the mall.
Borrowed ten dollars from my sister,
borrowed twenty from my gal,
Said the money paid my heat bill.
Instead, went drinking with a pal.

Chorus:

2. Blue moon shining in my window,
blue moon shining on the wall.
I’m sitting all alone at midnight,
Wondering why folks never call.
Blue moon shining in my window,
blue moon shining on the wall,
I lay down thinking of my loved ones,
they don't pay me mind at all.


["Blue moon shining in my window...": GAH]

3. Borrowed fifty from my brother,
borrowed a 'C' from Uncle Jack,
Said I had to buy a new suit,
had a job down at the track.
Borrowed two hundred from my grandma,
the same from a guy I met,
Said I had a sure-fire venture,
Translated means one final bet.

4. That last guy came back for his money,
I said, "I'm tapped out, my son."
He tapped me once, he tapped me twice,
he tapped me three times with his gun.
Borrowed two dollars from my mother,
borrowed five dollars from my pa.
Said, "I need a blood transfusion."
Haven't seen them since the fall.

Optional:

5. I lay here thinking of my loved ones,
they haven’t come by for awhile.
The nurses think that I’m an orphan,
they don’t ever see me smile.
I guess you shouldn’t borrow money,
not if you want to have a friend
When you’re walking through the valley,
when you’re getting near the end.

gah

***

More hit singles and brilliant prose (likely award winning too) can be found at another site.

.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Zoom w a View: A short trip down memory lane

(... with the help of photos and trees)

While motorcycling yesterday on my 1994 Yamaha Virago I managed to stay dry under dark gray skies, find new beauty in an old school house, and reconnect with a childhood friend.

After zigzagging across country to escape the rain clouds I eventually landed in the small town of Norwich, still home to a few relatives and most of my childhood memories (I lived there from age 6 - 18).

I attached another birdhouse to a large cedar tree near my parents’ grave site and turned toward London, my current home.

On the way I decided to stop in Burgessville to photograph my first home (I lived in it from birth - so I was told - to age 6) and school.

Pictures are worth a 1,000 words, but I’ll be brief.

The two-room school is now a museum.


A magnificent chestnut tree guards the sidewalk to the front door of the school.


Three doors down from the school I found these birdhouses in front on my first home. (That’s one of the best picture I have of the house. I got distracted.)


I started chatting with a fellow who lives next door to my first home (in Mrs. Hillicker’s old house) and told him that only 3 or 4 spruce trees remain from what once was a solid hedge of trees.

I am standing (on the left, with both scruffy legs hanging out) in front of the young spruce tree hedge with my two sisters (far right) and Chick and Susie Rose. Photo, circa 1954.


The fellow I chatted with gave me directions to the home of a childhood friend.

We started up a long conversation as soon as we met so I have no photo of Rick, and though he was the first of my old pals who ever bought a motorcycle (a 650cc BSA Thunderbolt; a fitting name when considering yesterday’s weather) he never bought another one.

He was impressed with mine, however, and we have planned to meet again in a couple of weeks.

Not every ride is quite so memorable.

.

Motorcycle Miles: Yipes - Free birdhouses just a short ride away

I really shouldn’t be showing you the photograph that follows... shortly.

I produce fine quality birdhouses (using only the straightest of nails), ones from cedar that will last 30 years or more, and want to make a bit of money to pay for supplies and the occasional ride on my 1994 Virago.

But - as I discovered yesterday - a man from Burgessville is giving them away.


["Free! How can I compete?"]

Yes, he hopes for a donation (to help pay for supplies) but how can I compete with that?


["Fine quality - but free? No way": photos by GAH]

Next trip (after i sell another birdhouse), I’m going to have to talk to that guy!

.

It Strikes Me Funny: We should go to war against the machines Pt 1

According to Saturday’s London Free Press the unemployment rate in Deforest City is now pegged at 10.9 per cent, the second-highest urban rate in the country.

[The rural rate sounds like it’s higher, which might mean more trouble for cities in the future, as people move from unproductive farms to less-than productive cities nearby.]

Why are we doing so poorly?

Here’s a clue:

“BMO economist Doug Porter said he had hoped job losses in the London area would ease in July because of signs the auto sector was starting to rebound last month.” (Free Press, Saturday’s issue)


["We can make them, but not sell them": photo link]

So, part of the reason is, the auto industry didn’t rebound very much.

Also, overall in our home province and country there have been significant job losses related to tourism, manufacturing, construction, transportation and warehousing, all areas affecting our city, I’m sure.

If London was a kitchen utensil, it would be a sieve.

Can we recover?

If we lived in a perfect world, of course.

If we had unlimited material resources, boundless supplies of clean air, energy and water and could print our own currency [money doesn’t grow on trees, and if it did, in Deforest City we’d just cut them down to make way for another large single-family home or big box store - sorry, I digress] we’d be fine. We could just produce, buy and sell stuff without end and not worry about the consequences - if we lived in a perfect world of limitless consumption.

But we don’t. Our physical world has limits.

***

More to follow.

.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Zoom w a View: Chicago, a wet and windy city


Sorry, I’m serving up leftovers.


Three wet shots from a visit to Chicago in June.


["Walking in the Rain": photos GAH]

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The Wee Workshop: A slab of mulberry as art?

Even though the slab of mulberry was going to set me back the large sum of $8 I felt I had to have it.

What for? I wasn’t sure at the time of purchase.


It could become a table, part of several birdhouses... something.

But wall art?

It’s hanging by two chains on the front porch. Does it work?


[A brilliant piece entitled "A Slab of Mulberry": photos by GAH]

Perhaps I can frame birdhouses and move closer to the world of the true artist.


Then again, maybe not. Kinda chunky, in my opinion.

.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

It Strikes Me Funny: Deadlines aren’t met by the dead

My column is supposed to be in to the editor by 5 p.m. every Saturday.

No one ever said, exactly 5 p.m. or else, or we’ll come by your house and rattle your cage if it’s late.

So, I treat my deadline much like I do a cold slice of apple pie that sits at the back of the fridge.

Sometimes I’m interested, sometimes I’m not.

Got maple syrup? I’m interested. Three weeks old? Not as much.

Today, I sent the column (brilliant piece, as usual, I’ll likely win an award) at 4:59, but because I attached 4 photos it didn’t leave the building until 5:01.

Stink. It would have been on time had I not sent pics, but they were good pics.


["Amazing view. Life is great, eh?"]

Then again, it could have been in by 4:40 had I not tried to kill myself by climbing a slippery wet ladder to clean out rain gutters during the middle of a storm.

While typing, however, I’d heard loud splashing sounds outside my study window and thought, I’ll never rest easy until I clean out that corner gutter, the one that catches all the maple keys and leaves and other stuff, so, I might as well strip down to my under shorts, put on a rain coat, haul out the ladder and climb it during a storm.

Yet, the lightning should have told me something.

After seeing a flash or two I should have recalled a few pertinent facts about instant death from science class, circa 1965.

Instead, I stared skyward and thought, it’s great to be alive, eh?

Yes, it is. Now, get down off the ladder and finish your story.

5:01. I can live with that.

.

Letter to the Editor: Some streets are unsafe for cyclists

If the list exists - Top Ten Cities with the Worst Drivers - and dear old London, Ontario is in top spot, I’d like to see it.

For the second week in a row a local citizen makes the claim there are no worse drivers anywhere on planet earth.

Edward H. wrote the following in the Aug. 7 issue of The London Free Press:

I do not ride a bike and have not for 10 years. I have lived in three different cities in Ontario and have travelled extensively. Drivers in London are by far the worst I have seen anywhere.


["Man's best friend?": photo GAH]

Personally, I think I need more proof before I will believe we’re the worst anywhere.

I’ve heard drivers in Quebec are pretty bad.

“Yellow lights? They mean 'go faster' in Montreal,” said a friend.

“Short people in Japan are the worst - especially women,” said another.

With those kinds of sentiments (or is it sediment?) out there, Edward’s experience sounds limited.

Three cities in Ontario? That’s it?

What if one was Perth? That’s a touristy area. How could we know for sure a car full of tourists didn’t throw off the results of his survey? The streets of Perth might be pretty mean in the winter time.

Though my experience is slimmer still - I’ve lived in London and Norwich, that’s it - I agree with Edward partly when he adds, I don’t blame cyclists for being on the sidewalk. The streets are simply too dangerous.

I think ‘some’ streets are too dangerous. Gutters and tarmac are in sad shape in some parts of town and riding a bike on the sidewalk at times seems like a reasonable way to prolong one’s life.

Some drivers are dangerous as well. Not all drivers check their speed when sharing a lane with cyclists or know how to manage an SUV the size of small nation or a pickup with wide side mirrors on some of our narrow streets.

Some drivers, equipped with more horsepower than common sense, accelerate when they should brake when faced with a cyclist in their lane and an approaching car in the other.

Edward mocks the idea that cyclists should be kicked off the sidewalks. “Is it illegal to try to save your own life?” he concludes.

No. Use the sidewalks at times, but bike paths and roadways more often.

.

I’m a slow learner. More coffee needed for sure

A reader encouraged me recently to place more birdhouses in my backyard, even thought the two I have are vacant. (Strength in numbers?)

I think I know why I can’t attract birds.

1. Seven neighbourhood cats.

2. One dog on the other side of my fence.

3. One dozen evil squirrels hiding in the trees.


["Veer? What's a veer?": photos GAH]

4. And this just dawned on me this morning - after a big cup of coffee. The one pictured above is surrounded by spruce branches - and some birds like to have a clear path through the air to their nest.


["For the sports minded bird"]

How would they be able to get their young to leave the nest if the flight path appeared hazardous?



“If I jump out I’ll hit that big branch, Pops” the young would say. "My life would be over before it began."

“Just hop out and veer to the right.”

“Veer? What’s a veer?”

So, today, after a few jobs are finished, I’ll move the house to a better spot, one with no darn veer problems.

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Ollie and Me: My grandson said what?

Ollie is less than three years old but reminds me of me more each day.

First, he’s a contrarian.


["Two peas in a pod" - Ollie and me]

“You look tired. How about a nap, Ollie?” Grandma will ask.

“No nap, Nana,’ he’ll reply. I say the same thing every time the topic comes up.

Second, he’s a storyteller.

I’ll ask him to identify some toy and he’ll give me 300 words [re country of origin, where it was purchased, how much it cost, that he’s in the middle of a game and he’d like me to keep my hands off it, etc.] when only one is needed. He’s got a future with The Londoner, for sure.

And third, he likes having his own way.


["We can both count to twelve": photo GAH]

Yesterday, while hitting and counting the tops of fence posts next to The Annex [my spare shed; the place I keep stuff that doesn’t fit in the main shed], Ollie was told not to tap his stick on the window.

“Papa says no,” Nana told him, hoping the mention of my name would carry some weight.

Without missing a beat, Ollie said, “Papa says yes.”

He didn’t break anything but it’s pretty clear he’s been picking up a few of my bad habits.

Will we have our hands full by the time he’s three?

Papa says yes.

.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Where does our oft misguided sense of entitlement come from?

In the spirit of entertainment (the entitlement stuff comes later), I not only ask the above question but end my sentence with a preposition.

[That wee preposition will likely keep me from this year’s Pulitzer Prize for Brilliant Literature, but so be it. My name has likely already been scratched from several award lists. And my Uncle Richard’s won’t be sending me a Christmas card this year either because I didn’t drop in to say hello last time I motorcycled through his hometown. Sorry, I’ve taken you down the wrong path. Back to the entitlement thingme.]

Emails have poured in expressing views about my last column.

Why, here’s another one now.

Hi GAH: Let me first say that I enjoy reading your article.  This weeks one managed to annoy me enough to email you.  I would love to know how old this Jane R is (mentioned in the column)?   And was she raised in Fairy Land?

I am all for a society that pays taxes and provides necessities needed to allow for social cohesion.  But upkeep of the Dog park, lol, that is too much.  If our city has any left over cash at the end of the day it should be used on something that would benefit those in need. 

By the way, I have a dog who is very much a treasured part of our family.  We do enjoy visiting the dog parks but my dog is just as happy and stimulated going for a walk.

It is irritating that so many people want to pass the responsibility on to the government, if they want something done why can't they do it themselves.  If you want the dog park to look pretty (which by the way my dog will not notice) then ask city council if you can do it yourself and while your at it why don't you delegate jobs to all the other complainers!

When will this silliness end?  What is the most frightening thing as that often these people are teaching their children this " I deserve" attitude! Have a great day, and thanks for the entertainment!
Signed j

So, where does our oft misguided sense of entitlement come from? Our parents?

I’m going to have to think about this one.

.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Come on Canada: Save two more percent and clobber Austria

If it was a game of hockey we’d bury the Austrians by about 20 goals and hang them out to dry.

But when it comes to saving money they beat us by a titch.

[titch: def’n - the smallest of wee bits, in the same league as eensy- weensy]

I read this morning:

“Austrians come in first when it comes to saving the same amount or more during the last six months, with 78 per cent of people reporting doing so. Canadians come in second at 77.”


So, forget the Timmies and new Blueberry Dip do-nut for the next six months (come on, miracles can happen), put your loonies in a jar (or under the mattress, whatever works for you) and aim for 79 per cent.

We’ll come out of the recession - eventually - with money in the bank and fewer pounds on the waistline.

Win-win, eh!

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It Strikes Me Funny: Research on the road

Yes, I actually do research for my weekly column.

There’s Google, the daily paper, my neighbours and my all-time favourite, the timely deep question.

E.g., “So, what do you think?”


Tuesday I rode my bicycle through a nearby neighbourhood that came highly recommended. (A reader emailed, “Kensal Park. You’ll love it.”)


["My personal favourite w old, scuffed paint": photos by GAH]

While there I formed a few opinions about the area - it’s definitely a quiet part of town, right up my alley.


A good birdhouse builder lives there too.

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"Save, save, save": The New Canadian mantra?

In spite of what gets drummed into our heads we’re saving our money.

“Spend, spend, spend,” governments insist.

We resist.

Our finance ministers demand, “Save the economy with your dollars!”

We close our ears to their hollers.

Our banks cry out, “Be a loyal little consumer.”


My thinking? Not this boomer.

“Canadians are socking away more money and spending less than people of many other industrialized countries in the current global economic downturn.” (a new survey suggests)

Why?

“The push to save is driven in part by a belief among almost one-third of Canadians that the recession will mean a delayed retirement.” (says the survey)

I also think many Canadians are moving toward a more frugal lifestyle to support future generations by conserving energy and other valuable resources today.

And many have learned that saving is simply more rewarding than spending.

Our precious economy or lifestyle can be dialed back by 10 -15 per cent and we’d still be happy people. Maybe even happier.

Keep up the good work, Canada.

.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

It Strikes Me Funny: Yes, I said that

This week’s column is divided into two parts, both brilliantly written.

Part 1 is about dogs. Not all dogs, of course. There are so many.

[Has anyone tracked how many pet dogs and cats there are in London? Per capita, are we the pet capital of the world? Just wondering. I bet we’re close to the top. And how many dog parks to we have?]


["Dogs and taxes are related": at The Londoner]

Part 2 is about taxes. And I think parts 1 and 2 are related in some way.

For example, I wrote:

Imagine that a city councillor - pick a ward, any ward - comes to your door in their Sunday best and says, “We’d like to increase the number of services the city provides to you and your family. We’d also like to maintain them well into the future if they seem worthwhile. Any suggestions?”

Next, even though this whole scenario seems like a stretch, imagine what you’d like your city to do for you. (We’ll get to what you can do for your city in just a moment).

By the way, no need to ask for a park for small cats. Studies show most cats aren’t interested, but are in some sort of mood.

See, I told you it was brilliant.

Today’s complete column here.

.

I tip my hat to a birdhouse builder in Kensal Park, London

I knocked on his door to get his name but no one was home.

However, birds were at home in his birdhouses.


I enjoyed peeking over his fence at his collection.


I saw singles, pairs and other interesting groupings.


[Photos by GAH]

‘Whatever works’ seems to be the builder’s motto.

Well done, I say.

.

Why don’t I do it in the yard?

I would say that 92.4 per cent of the work done in my workshop is for pleasure and/or profit.

The rest I put down to ‘somebody very close to me (I don’t dare mention her name, especially since we’re 4 days away from our 39th anniversary) thinks one of my birdhouses or chairs will make a lovely house warming gift for someone I don’t know very well.’


["Inside the workshop - for now": photo GAH]

[Yes, I admit it, 97.8 per cent of my materials cost me nothing, but some profit is needed to pay for tools and keep the tiny fridge I have between my work benches stocked with a variety of cold beverages - in case company drops by. Plus, some consideration much be given to my new(er) motorcycle. I occasionally like to splurge, put gas in its tank and take a relaxing ride to the north shore of Lake Erie - and the north shore seems to have no end to interesting spots I like to visit. Sorry, back to my main point, which has not yet been revealed.]

Yesterday, however, profit and/or pleasure aside, I noticed that another accomplished birdhouse builder (in Kensal park, London) fills his yard with his creations so that birds can actually use them.


["Why not in my yard too?": photo GAH]

Lesson learned: I should put more in my own yard for practical use.

I only have two at the moment because one dog and seven cats belonging to close neighbours and a large number of evil squirrels rule the roost around my backyard.

More birdhouses, however, might mean more birds will eventually settle where I can actually see them.

More pleasure for me.

***

Will my plan work? Is more better? How do I keep the darn cats away?

.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

A Dark, Cheap Motel

Backgrounder: “A lot of people seem to write songs about drinking too much whisky or beer. Why is that? I can’t speak for the others, but over the years I’ve learned that heavy drinkers spread a lot of pain around.” gaharrison

A Dark, Cheap Motel

1, I spent the night in a dark, cheap motel
'Cause I lost the keys to my house.
Once I stayed three days at a strange trailer park,
I forgot the name of my spouse.

Chorus:

Well, I don't drink lots but I sure pick my spots,
That's why I ended up here.
I must confess I should drink a lot less,
Or switch to low alcohol beer.


2. I spent the night in a dark, cheap motel,
For awhile I slept out in the hall.
I'd ordered a round, had the cash in my hand,
That's the last I seem to recall.

3. I spent the night in a dark, cheap motel,
I think on the downside of town.
A new friend from the bar took care of my car,
Which someday still may be found.

4. I spent the night in a dark, cheap motel,
I paid with my new Mastercard.
When I finally get home no more will I roam,
I sure make this life so hard.

gah

***

More song lyrics (soon to be number one hits, I’m sure) and brilliant prose can be found at Gord's other blog.

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No Diving from the Bridge. No problem

While looking for information about California’s current water crisis (more details in the post below) I saw the accompanying photo.


Funny?

Initially perhaps.

.

Will troubles near and far affect my grocery bills? Likely

Perhaps the recent summer-like weather will alleviate food production problems some local farmers are complaining about.

[Note: I didn’t say ‘summer weather’ because, thanks to climate instability, summer hasn’t really arrived yet. Yes, my cherry tomatoes are coming along well but my peas are lagging behind. Sorry, I digress. Back to more pressing problems.]

The big three crops in SW Ontario - corn, soy and winter wheat for cattle and human consumption - need typical summer weather to do well, and areas farmers are hoping August won’t be a repeat of July.

If we don’t get hot weather, we’ll likely experience higher bread and beef prices in the fall and winter.

However, worse still will be the affects of the very low water levels in California.


["Heads up": photo link]

Though our region is fairly well known for its bread and beef, California is world famous for its fruit and vegetable production, and if crops and employment stumble or fall there, the negative ripple affects will be felt across North America.

Higher grocery bills are one thing. We can just reduce our food intake, excessive to the extreme in many U.S. and Canadian homes.

But can we handle an even bigger and farther reaching recession if and when water resources begin to fail?

Link to Drought update.

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Monday, August 3, 2009

Old time hockey players are tough hombres, maybe more

A friend just emailed with some tough news, but for him, not for me.

His message actually made me laugh.

He’s a good defenceman (sometimes goalie) and I won’t have to face him during our fifty-plus hockey games for a few weeks.

He wrote:

Hi GAH. I finally had my thumb checked out this morning and I have a broken bone that will prevent me from playing hockey for awhile.  The hard splint really limits mobility. 

The doctor was quite surprised that it happened 19 days ago and that I was just now getting it checked out. I explained that old time hockey players, especially aspiring goalies, are tough hombres.
Signed, RA


[“Tough hombres, Christmas a.m. run: Reg, David (son), David, Bill, RA, GAH (kneeling)]

I replied:

Your email really made me laugh. 'Tough hombres' is right. That's a good one. 

Plus, I'm sometimes reluctant to see a doctor because I'm pretty sure he'll find more than one problem, and give me a lecture.

Drop over to the workshop anytime; cold beer in the fridge.


I’m usually pretty chintzy with my beer, but he’s suffering enough, eh.

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Believe it or Not: I actually spent $8 recently

I know. I usually try to convince people to reduce spending, live small and enjoy a frugal lifestyle.

Also, I sometimes brag about... sorry, I lied.

I always brag about making projects from found, reused or scrap lumber and here I am spending almost a full $10 on one piece of mulberry.


The owner of Phillmore Enterprises on Sarnia Gravel Rd. even called the wood ‘garbage,’ so, truth be told, I spent 8 bucks on trash.

But, as they say, one man’s trash is another man’s artsy fartsy project for the front porch.

I'd never seen a slab of mulberry before. When I bought it the colour was closer to lime-green, if you can believe that. (Worth every penny?)

Once I buy two hooks and a sturdy chain with the change I have in my pocket, up she goes.

(I have $16 left over from the sale of a classic birdhouse. And listen to this. The buyer actually said, “I love your shop. I wish I could buy everything in it.”

However, she left before I could figure out a price. Stink.

Whoever you are, come back. I think we can make a deal!

Sorry... I digress)


Then, with more birdhouse money in my pocket, I’ll take a motorcycle holiday to Long Point.


["There's a birdhouse builder in Long Point I want to meet": photo GAH]

Now, if the nice lady comes back and buys out my stock I might make it as far as Port Dover.

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Is the Canadian media hiding the real economic story?

Or are some reporters just too optimistic for their own good. And ours?

You might not have read the full story in a recent copy of The London Free Press, just glanced at the headline [‘Auto sales lead recovery’] and said, “Finally, some good news. Now, how about them Yankees?”

You might have thought the subheading [Canadian Economy: Sales in June reached the highest level on record since last July] told enough of the story so moved on to the baseball scores and were delighted to find that the Yanks were still ahead in the East by a game and a half.

Had you read the story re auto sales you would have discovered the subhead was a lie.


Higher sales in June related to global auto sales, high sales in China and Germany, and had nothing to do with our own country.

Here’s what the article actually said re any economic recovery in Canada.

“new data showed output shrank more than expected”

“the gross domestic product fell 0.5% in May, pulled down by a battered manufacturing sector”

“It marked the 10th straight month of economic decline”

“Plant shutdowns in the manufacturing sectors accounted for much of the decline”

“About half the decrease was due to a plunge in motor vehicle manufacturing”

"Part of it was obviously related to the auto sector shutdowns"

“that was the biggest component explaining an acceleration of the weakness"

So, how’s that for a recovery, Canada?

Maybe we could come up with a truthful headline after reading the sports page, eh?

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Sunday, August 2, 2009

Same old same old and the next ‘new’ recession

Globally, car sales are increasing ever so slightly.

During the first 3 months of 2009, 43 million units were sold, and we’re not talking units produced in any sort of sustainable manner.

During the next 3 months, 48 millions units were sold world-wide, with China and Germany leading the way.

Thus the headline ‘Revival Forecast On the Way’ in our local paper.

Is this the shot in the arm our Market-First economies need? Will we soon be living the high life again, not caring a hoot about future generations?


The smart money says no.

"Most immediately, we face the end of the cheap fossil fuel era. It is no exaggeration to state that reliable supplies of cheap oil and natural gas underlie everything we identify as a benefit of modern life." [The Long Emergency by James H. Kunstler]

Any revival depending on the production of cars for the individual driver will be short-lived, end in a blind alley and another ‘new’ (as in, we never saw this coming) recession.

Reduce your spending, save your money, take mass transit or walk.

You’ll be better off in the long term.

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Two miles to go in my first marathon - I’m still smiling

In 1974 I was, officially, a short distance jogger.

Three miles, three times per week - that was plenty.

I wore a headband to keep long hair out of my eyes and tried hard to match my knee-high socks with my cotton shorts. And as I said in an earlier post “it wasn’t a good look for me.”

However, 21 years later, I ran my first marathon and called myself a real runner.

“Excuse me, real runner on your left,” I’d say, as I approached pedestrians from behind.

Though clothing styles changed and my collection headbands never left my sock drawer (even though the paisley one looked pretty slick) I kept one habit from my past while training for and completing my first marathon in 1995: I asked my oldest son to join me.

At age three and a half David was a tireless, uncomplaining runner and as he matured he developed into a sub-three-hour marathoner. My own goal, to break four hours, would be a walk in the park for him.

We entered different events on race day and after my son finished his 10 K he ran the marathon course backwards, looking for me in the groups of runners he quickly past.

I recalled our meeting in a short book (Twenty-Six Point Two) written in 1996:

May 7, 1995, Mile 22, Toronto Marathon; I was looking desperately for a place to pee.

My stride still seemed quite strong, but I was certain I wasn’t going to finish my first marathon without a bathroom break. As I turned the corner from Danforth Avenue onto Carlaw, I saw a portable-john and my son David at the same time.

“How are you doing Dad?” he asked with a grin.

“Gotta pee,” I replied. I slammed the door abruptly behind me. No time to talk. Runners have priorities.


Too abrupt?


["Two miles to go": photo by PAHarrison]

For sure.

But trust me. Had the Queen of England been sitting inside the john I would have forced her to leave.

David and I joined forces shortly thereafter and the last four miles are a big and happy part of our running history together. I couldn’t have finished without him.

Well, maybe I could have, but it wouldn’t have been as memorable.

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Saturday, August 1, 2009

So, what’s with the funky headband, dude?

Well, I used to wear one to keep hair out of my eyes.

Hey, it was 1974. Gimme a break.


["It's not a good look": photo by PAH, wife of GAH]

It wasn’t a good look for me, I admit, but because my hair and beard were just a tad longer than the navy blue shag carpet in our rented house in Old North London (sure, it sounds like a sophisticated address but trust me, ya gets what ya pay for!) an unflattering headband was an important accessory while jogging.

[Note to runners: In the ‘70s ‘jogging’ was the appropriate term. ‘Wanna go for a jog’ was a very popular request on my block, second only to ‘what’s that you have growing in your backyard?’ And yes, white socks to the knee were all the rage. Sorry, I digress, though only slightly.]

I have the accompanying and significant photo pinned to a corkboard in my workshop.

It reminds me that I was about two inches taller in ‘74. (Maybe because of the tennis shoes and high hair).

It reminds me, every time I look at it, that my life is blessed.

My first son was three and a half years old in 1974, wanted to run with me, completed the one mile route without difficulty and when we arrived home said to me, “Let’s do it again.”

I’ve had many running partners since, but never a better one.

The photo reminds me how much my two boys have changed and contributed to my life. We connect on many different levels; as runners, thinkers, fathers, lovers of music, art and sips of single malt, for starters only. They (and their mother) are the main reason I smile with confidence.

Though we don’t agree on everything on this we’re firm - we’ll never wear headbands again.

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Motorcycle Miles: Postcards (and Elderberries) From the Side of the Road

After reading about the poor start some local crops have made due to weird weather patterns I thought I’d keep my eye open for soy beans, corn and winter wheat fields while motorcycling.


I think some farmers are doing well along the north shore of Lake Erie, so we’ll still be able to feed our huge herds of beef cattle for a reasonable price. (E.g., on Yarmouth Center Line, SE of London)


And if there is a market for mustard I think there’s money to be made just by cultivating area ditches.


Prediction: There are elderberry pies in my future.


["Elderberries in my future": photos by GAH]

Location is a family secret. However, I have loose lips if the bribe is large enough.

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