Motorcycle Miles: The lure of the open road, exceptional rides and more

Last Friday evening I met several members of the Ontario Sport Riding club (OSR) at a charity event in London and though my classic Virago and I were surrounded by many sport bikes and much younger riders I realized, after a few conversations, all of us enjoy many of the same things related to biking.

For example:

- The lure of riding two wheels on the open road

- Exceptional rides on stretches of curving or hilly highway

- The thought (for some of us) of the wind blowing through what’s left of our hair

- The gleam of hard machinery


- Motor muscle, enough to get our butts from A to B as if by jet aircraft


- Soaring outside the cage

The ability to stop for a few seconds in the middle of a bridge to enjoy a view one would never see from behind the wheel of a car

- Thoughts about our next bike (there’s always the ‘next’ bike) and how we can adjust to higher fuel prices e.g. smaller engine, shorter tours, more shared rides

And much more.

[Visit more Motorcycle Miles at your leisure]

Toronto Maple Leaf fan says, Some Sundin statistics suck

I occasionally feel sorry for Mats Sundin.

Though big and strong enough to take care of himself on or off the ice the poor guy owns a hockey stat that he likely doesn’t want to be reminded of as he’s heading out the door to smack a few golf balls 1,000 feet over the nearest hazard.

According to Steve Simmons “Mats ranks fifth among active NHL players for most regular season games played (1,305) without winning the Stanley Cup.” (Sunday, London Free Press)

And if that’s not cheery enough news, Simmons continues, “But if leader Luke Richardson (1,415), Trevor Linden (1,382) and Teppo Numminen (1,315) all retire, Sundin will move to second behind Jeremy Roenick.”

Wow. Second.


[The Early Years: Before Mats had accumulated depressing stats]

Thankfully, Simmons knew when to quit.

I mean, how would Mats feel if he had added... “So, logically, it goes without saying, if Roenick also retires for some reason, say old age, or deep depression caused by reading my stats, then Mats would be number one.”

Have a good day, Mats.

[Read Monday Memoirs by Gord Harrison below]

Monday Memoirs: One week late and still missing a croquet mallet

The game of croquet almost tore our family apart.

Four brightly-painted wooden mallets could send four matching wooden balls sailing across our expansive and bumpy yard at over 100 miles per hour and if you took the game seriously, which my four siblings and I did, someone of us would interrupt each and every game by loudly howling a complaint after an egregious foul or near-death experience, then rush inside the house to find a parent or other suitable referee.


["This shot is going out of the pond and over the barn!"]

Mom or Dad would often simply yell at us through a screen window or, if someone had been banged on the head, admonish those at fault (Who? Me?) from the back porch.

Tensions would settle down for a few seconds until, for example, I made contact with my younger brother’s ball - even though I didn’t need to in order to stay ahead or win.

I would carefully line up his ball and whack it so hard it would sail into the chicken coop or right through our thick hedge and over the road and into Mrs. Kelly’s flower bed.

The poor lad got so angry one day he screamed and chased me into the house with his mallet. Thank goodness a referee was on hand just inside the back door.

I think I can safely say, because of our competitive spirit, if we had been given lacrosse sticks to play with there would not be a family member alive today.

But my siblings and I are alive, and I’m happy for it, and our wide yard was also the scene of many happy memories, most of which took place without a mallet in our hands.

We had ample room for swings, lawn chairs, picnic tables, bikes, trikes, gardens, chickens, dogs, massive shade trees and games of catch. Even room to practice my wedge and chips shots after I bought my first set of golf clubs. (No deaths occurred.)

We had one of the few in-town barns, and though dad used it mainly as car park, chicken coop and storage area, it offered many more exciting opportunities for play when he was at work.


[Watercolour of the barn by our mother, Edith J. Harrison]

I practiced my wrist shot for hockey against an inside wall. I improved my throwing arm by hurling hundreds of pitches toward a target that I’d chiseled on an outside wall. I chipped golf balls over the roof.

As well, I shot marbles through the windows and doors with my slingshot, swung on a rope tied to a rafter, carved my initials on a few boards and kissed a girl after the two of us had climbed into the loft.

The barn was torn down a few years ago and according to prearranged plan, the new owner called me so I could rescue some of the lumber for shelves and bird boxes before it all went to the scrap heap.


[The earliest set of initials, A.C.b. from 1877]

I scavenged rare, very wide pieces of lumber that were at least 140 years old and lovely, narrower boards on which were carved the initials of several of our seven family members.

Not surprisingly, the well-used but ever-dangerous croquet mallets were long gone.

[Read more Monday Memoirs by Gord Harrison at It Strikes Me Funny]

When you mention Al Gore you get interesting feedback - Part 1

In a recent column I mentioned that federal Liberal MP Glen Pearson had met with Al Gore, participated in a week-long climate change project and would, at some point in the future, make climate change presentations of his own in London.

It seemed fair to ask Mr. Pearson if Gore was a worthy spokesperson for environmental issues.

According to my notes he replied, “Absolutely. You could tell that just by the presence of key scientists in Montreal. David Suzuki was also there giving his endorsement...”

It also seemed fair to think that, 30 seconds after my column that linked Al Gore, David Suzuki and climate change hit the streets, I’d hear from detractors.

And, fortunately, I did.


One person (Peter Pauper) wrote:

“I never know whether to laugh or cry when I read Gord Harrison’s musings on climate change, but his April 23 column took the biscuit... I don’t know which subjects Gord taught before he retired, but he is clearly no more a climate scientist than Mr. Gore is.”

After returning from the kitchen with more biscuits to go with my morning coffee I began typing my next column. It almost wrote itself. [Available next Thursday in The Londoner.]

[Read another person’s response to Peter Pauper’s views at cartoon life by Doug Rogers]

And please read When you mention Al Gore - Part 2 at Four Mugs and a Crock.

See you there.

GH

Recommended Reading: That part about front loaders in Leslie’s book

Geez, I talk like I actually know Leslie.

Because I do. We met while training for a long-distance run. I eventually qualified for the Boston marathon and Leslie got published. (An upcoming interview should make for a good column).

And in The Virtuous Consumer she writes:

“Buy a front loader if you’re in the market for a new washer.”


At the moment I’m not. But if I was I would.

You might ask, Gord, why are you so excited about a front loading washing machine at your age? Fall off your motorcycle or hit your head once too often?

No and no. I’m feeling just fine.

It’s because Leslie continued:

“I did - and my clothes come out of it practically dry. It uses at least 40 per cent less water and 65 per cent less electricity...”

But that’s not the kicker.

“What’s more,” she wrote, “if every US household used the most efficient washers, the equivalent of up to 40 million barrels of oil a year could be saved.”

It’s about the oil. I can’t even ride my motorcycle 35 - 40 km. to St. Marys without thinking about the oil and gas I’m using.

The Virtuous Consumer promotes a positive change in our thinking about many common consumer goods. [see Recommended Reading in right hand margin for the link to a short book review]

And please visit Four Mugs to see a stunning photo from that ride to St. Marys]

Recommended Reading: Chapter 9 from Heat - for those who love air travel

Love to fly? Hawaii is next on your list of destinations?

Read Heat: How to stop the planet from burning, by George Monbiot [see link in right hand margin], especially chapter 9, that ends with the following words:

If you fly, you destroy other people’s lives.

Not because you’re a terrible pilot and can’t tell a runway from a hole in the ground (geez, sorry. Pleasant thought, eh? I hope you’re not reading this while circling an airport) but because air travel is responsible for so much greenhouse gas and the amount is growing and George thinks the best way to travel is by blimp (not kidding) or not at all unless you stay on the ground.

And, I have to agree with him.

Radical restraint is needed, and just as we know the best time to plant a tree is 40 years ago we know the best time to start keeping our feet on the ground is a long time ago too.


I know you can’t walk to Hawaii unless you live there but have you ever thought of just watching Blue Hawaii, a movie starring Elvis Presley?

Walk to the nearest Blockbuster and check it out.

It might be all you really need.

The Changing Climate: Wayne Gretzky carries a lot of weight

I don’t mean the weight of his body, but the weight of his words.

Soaking wet and in full hockey gear I might be one or two ounces heavier, but when Wayne tells us to live small i.e. trade in our SUV for a compact car, move to a smaller house, eat less meat, take vacations closer to home, and more, his words certainly pack a lot more punch than mine, maybe more than Al Gore’s or David Suzuki’s too.

So, I’m going to write to him and ask him to tell us all of the above, and more.


Dear Mr. Gretzky,

Would you please say the following on my blog or on national TV?

“The scientific evidence is clear: Surface temperatures on Earth are warming at a pace that signals a decisive shift in the global climate, one expected to last for centuries.”

“Previous epochal changes in climate, such as the Ice Age that ended 11,500 years ago, were set in motion by natural causes... this episode is different.”

“Climate is changing more rapidly than ever before. Human activity is the main cause”.

[All quotes are from a National Geographic publication]

A lot of people, not just hockey fans, will listen to you.

Sincerely,

G. Harrison

PS Got any tips to make my wrist shot the envy of my recreational hockey league?

[Visit Four Mugs and a Crock for Cartoons in Progress and much more about the price of gas]

Live Small and Prosper: Self-restraint is easy and we all need easy

I entitled a very popular recent post [especially to the persistent J, whoever he may be]
Live Small and Prosper: The latest reason for practicing restraint out-shadows all others.

I suggested that eating less meat results in many positive benefits and that the absolute best reason is:



“It takes less effort than leaving the car at home to conserve fuel (our insatiable thirst for fossil fuels is another reason grain prices are on the rise) and we need an easy way to practice restraint over and over and over again until we get really really good at it so we’ll be ready for the hard hard times when they come.”

I know I’m right too. You can quote me on it.



(I mean, if we can give up cheeseburgers we can certainly take public transit.)

A great comment soon followed.

Theresa said...

That J dude is persistent, if unimaginative. 



Going vegetarian is one of the best things I've done as a human, I think. It was one of the easiest changes to make too, and one with a lot of positive consequences for me and for the world. Way easier than driving less or not using any plastic. When I found out how much food could be going to humans instead of animals, how much I lowered my risk of colitis and colon cancer (which runs in our family), and how I didn't want to be responsible for the de-beaking, and otherwise and inhumane practices of factory farms, I was just so done with meat.

Being vegetarian has actually broadened my diet, not restrained it at all! May 5, 2008 7:00 PM


[Photo: "Where does our business as usual philosophy end?" G. Harrison]

I told theresa I’m still a flexitarian (semi-vegetarian) and feel better for it. And it’s easy.

And we need ‘easy’.

[Visit below for more easy-reading Monday Memoirs]

Motorcycle Miles: Postcards from the Side of the Road

Weather turned warmer yesterday so I finished work in the attic earlier than expected, grabbed a coffee at the Red Roaster and took a short spin on the Virago.


The fresh air and green spaces did me some good.

I'm not sure why a narrow space is left between two fenced-in spaces.


Do horses lean over fences and bite the competition?


And should I back up a bit next time?

Monday Memoirs: The move to Norwich is considered a happy landing by this wee boy

I was six-and-a-half-years old when my family moved all of five miles from Burgessville, my first home, to the booming metropolis of Norwich in 1956.

And though I remember Burgessville fondly (Who wouldn’t? I stole my first quarter from the milk money envelope and comic book from the corner store and almost drove a tractor into the creek) I still consider Norwich my hometown.


[Burgessville P.S.; a two-room schoolhouse when I attended Grade 1. Now a museum. Photo - 2007]

We moved into our new house as quickly as a swarm of wild bees and it seemed interesting enough from my limited and immature point of view.

It was made of wood and had several windows and big rooms and Mother was happy about the kitchen for about two minutes before she started tearing out a long, old-fashioned wall cupboard with a pull-out bin for flour or potatoes or whatever mothers would stick in there (that cupboard would be worth a pile of potatoes today), and Dad liked to crawl under the house with his pal Gord Bucholtz and drink beer and eat peanuts while talking about plumbing or electricity or whatever fathers do when wiggling around in what I thought was just a dark hole in the ground.

If not for the lure of salted peanuts I’m sure I wouldn’t have climbed down under the floor with them.

The new village seemed interesting too once I figured out where the school and playground were located (directly across the street from our small front porch and one block away from our back door respectively) and learned the names of a few kids in the neighbourhood.

Gary, Tom, David and Ken were my favourite pals. I still have some contact with two of them but we’re much older now and don’t go outside to play together very often.

There was a great advantage in living 12 giant steps from the schoolyard.

After a quick bowl of porridge in the morning I could rush out to the porch, slam the screen door, jump off the front steps and start playing soccer or baseball in less than 5 seconds - or shoot a few of my thousands of marbles out of a slingshot over Mr. Minor’s fence at 1,000 miles per hour.

And because afternoon classes didn’t start until 1:30 the kids who ran home, ate lunch in under ten minutes (which was easy - if our mothers got distracted by other kids at the table or The Three Stooges weren’t on TV - nyuk nyuk) would often get back to school and play scrub for over an hour.


I’m not kidding. Each young boy would get a chance to play every position in baseball at least twice before the bell rang for first class, even if we had five or more fielders.

Many kids lived for baseball in the summer and snowballs in the winter and though we had the longest lunch breaks in the history of early childhood we still groaned when the bell rang and it wasn’t unusual for teachers to yell at a hectic group of children several times before any pretended to hear them for the first time.

Miss Walker, my Grade 1 teacher, was probably a wonderful instructor and deserved as much respect as the next person but I wasn’t old enough to quickly figure out how closely she wanted me to listen to her every word and my lack of attention didn’t impress her much at first.

While other students were busy watching her point at important material on the blackboard I liked to stare at the black alphabet cards, press my fingers against the sides of my eyeballs and wait for bright, techno-colored circles to float around inside of my head like a psychedelic display.


["Like a psychedelic display and it wasn't even the sixties!"]

One day she noticed I wasn’t paying any attention to her well-prepared language drills and snuck up on me before my vision had cleared enough for me to see her standing beside my desk with a ruler raised over her shoulder.

Ouch! That hurt!

“Recite the alphabet, Gordon Harrison.”

“Okay. Where is it again?”

Though embarrassed at the time I got even.

I didn’t send her a card on Valentine’s Day.

***

Norwich Fun Fact: The population from 1955 - 2008 has remained unusually steady. As long as I can remember the number of births and deaths in my hometown have been the same each year and the sign outside town has read 1,600.

Know any others?

Live Small and Prosper: The latest reason for practicing restraint out-shadows all others

I said in my most recent column that a quick look at the four main reasons grain prices are on the rise will reveal that our personal fingerprints are all over them.

One reason, greater meat consumption globally, is directly related to the beef, chicken and pork found in our refrigerators and freezers and since summer is approaching and big BBQs sit on 99.99999% of the back decks in North America I thought it would be a good time for us to start showing some restraint in our eating habits.


[Over-consumption is like planting a tree in concrete - GH]

There are many good reasons:

The world’s cattle alone consume a quantity of food equal to the caloric needs of 8.7 billion people - more than the entire population of the planet. [The Virtuous Consumer by Leslie Garrett]

Eighty per cent of agricultural land in the US is used to raise animals for food. [Ibid]

Less meat on the plate equals more crops for people and/or more land for Mother Nature. [Me]

A vegetarian diet is credited for providing a longer life with reduced risk of such diseases as diabetes, hypertension, coronary artery disease and some cancers. [The Virtuous Consumer - link to Leslie's personal website]

The animals live longer too and their numbers would decrease to more natural levels. [Me]

There is an even better reason to eat less meat.

It takes less effort than leaving the car at home to conserve fuel (our insatiable thirst for fossil fuels is another reason grain prices are on the rise) and we need an easy way to practice restraint over and over and over again until we get really really good at it so we’ll be ready for the hard hard times when they come.

I mean, if we can give up cheeseburgers we can certainly take public transit.

If we can say no to a tenderloin we can, with new internal fortitude, walk to the variety store for smokes and a bag of chips.

If we can eat fewer chicken wings and more beans and brussel sprouts - my gosh, hold onto your hats - we’ll find the strength to trade in the monster pickup for an electric scooter. Yowwzzah.

Practice does make perfect.

[Did you know that climate change will lead to fashion faupas? It surely will. Visit Four Mugs]

Global Warming: Climate change or climate instability quickens its pace

Many people say that a bit of change is always good, so we won’t get stuck in a rut, eat the same leftover casserole for a week or walk around in bell bottoms for the rest of our lives.

I agree, of course (I’ve got short legs and no behind so bells don’t fit right), even when it comes to some aspects of the earth's climate, but the pace of climate change over the last number of years concerns me.

As well, most scientists are concerned about the quickening pace of climate change, especially in the Arctic, according to a new summary of the most recent research. [Link to The London Free Press, April 25]

Earlier predictions now appear too conservative, except perhaps to the Canadian Federal Conservative government whose mantra is - economic limits and environmental concerns are for sissies and grandmas.

“The dramatic impacts on the Arctic that are now being observed challenge the magnitude of the predicted impacts of climate change at both Arctic and global levels,” says the report. The reduction in Arctic ice cover has “massively accelerated” since 2005.

Our Market First or Business As Usual economic philosophy will lead to our bankruptcy.


["I bet my pants won't get wet today, Mom!"]

Bell bottoms out - flood pants in.

[Visit Four Mugs for The Last Days of Driving free book give-away]

Live Small & Prosper: But we can’t do without drag racing, can we?

Peak oil? The rising price of fuel? Not to worry.

This is Canada and federal Environment Minister John Baird knows more about the environment and oil and gas and the positive economic impact of drag racing than any other person from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

He must. He’s a Minister. Of the Environment.


As well, he must have many very sound reasons to extend a reprieve on a total ban of leaded fuel for drag racing purposes in Canada. [Linked to The London Free Press]

In fact, I bet he’s got 29 million of them.

Baird’s motto: Go ahead, boys. Start your engines, fly down a quarter mile track and break some kind of speed record. Racing’s economic impact - $29 million worth - is vital to all Canadians.

Well, not all Canadians. Though a ban on leaded fuel for competition was to be banned as of January 2008 and was given a free pass until Jan. 2009 by Baird a few months ago and extended recently to Jan. 2010, I think the original ban should be upheld and drag racing teams expected to find another way to compete in vehicles with four wheels.


I wonder, what else can they do for good times?

[Visit Four Mugs for The Last Days of Driving free book give-away.]

It Strikes Me Funny: Deforest City free book give-away

I’ll keep this post to 2 minutes and 45 seconds - I’m heating up homemade soup in the microwave.

I’m almost finished a signed copy of The Sink: The last days of driving, by W. Messer, author from Gravenhurst, and if you’d like it after I’m done leave a comment.

I’ll leave the book behind the counter at The Little Red Roaster in Wortley Village with your name on it. Say hello if I’m there. Chances are good.

The book was a slow starter in my humble opinion but as it progressed I got more of a kick out of it and laughed out loud on a few occasions.

The book is not in pristine condition. I read while riding on a recumbent bike and make marginal notes every once in awhile (e.g. funny blog, rare wit).

I wrote ‘funny blog’ after reading one of the headlines Pappy had cut out from the local paper and pasted up at a driving seminar for all to see:

Car kills man in barber chair (That wasn’t it. I laughed at the last one.)
Three officers hit investigating same accident
Gas jockey incinerated
Backs over whole family: “I thought they were seed potatoes.”

I know. I shouldn't laugh. But some people are really bad drivers.


[Photo: "I thought my car would fit into the space."]

So, good luck out there and I hope you get the book next.

[Visit Four Mugs for another cartoon in progress and It Strikes Me Funny for my most recent column]

It Strikes Me Funny: Questions based on a glimmer of recognition

The third favourite question I am asked is, Do you know what you should write about? (I’ve got something for you.)

After six years as a weekly columnist with my picture in the paper I am still greatly surprised when anyone on the street or even another regular at the Roaster in Wortley Village connects me to a recent article, and am usually stuck for a reasonable answer to a reader’s offer of help.

My typical brilliant response: I take another sip of coffee, blink once or twice if it’s before 10 o’clock in the morning, fumble for a pen as if I’m lost without one and mumble something like, yeah, what are you thinking, or, really, or, thanks for the tip, good one.

My second favourite question: You’re that guy, right?

I love that one. And at my age (I’m at the beginning of a long, healthy, youthful stage of retirement called guaranteed freedom), since I can understand it’s hard to keep track of the names of everyone who has written a column that fits neatly into the bottom of a budgie cage, I simply answer, yup, that’s me.

Number two used to be my number one because it always makes me laugh inside.

As of last week, however, I now have an all new numero uno.

After a column concerning conservation measures was published I was asked the following: Do you believe in clotheslines?


I could have mentioned I always use one but said the first thing that popped into my head: You mean, as a higher power?

Good one, eh?

What would you have said?

[Visit another cartoon in progress by G. Harrison at Four Mugs]

Postcards from the Side of the Road

I enjoy stopping the motorcycle at the side of the road, snapping a few pictures and knowing I'll have a bit of fun with the shots when I get home.

Years ago when I wanted to edit a photograph I'd talk to the guy at the camera shop about this and that for half an hour or do it myself after getting out coloured markers, scissors, scrap paper, assorted chemicals from a homemade science kit and a bottle of glue.

Now, I can sit at my computer and get what I think are pretty decent edits with the click of a button.

I can playfully experiment with cropping, enhancements, colours and other relatively cool effects and not blow up the house in the process.


[St. Marys, Ontario]

Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I’ll see something in the photo that will draw me back to the location of the shot for a second look.


[Port Bruce, Ontario]

And yes, it helps that I’m retired and my wife occasionally gives me a few bucks to fill up the motorcycle.

[Visit Four Mugs to see two more photos from a recent ride]

Monday Memoirs: I chased my dad as fast as my little legs would carry me

Rhonda Wettlaufer, my first girlfriend and an only child, may have had more toys than I did so we often played at her house after we returned from Kindergarten or after our grade one lessons were finished.

One bright and cheery afternoon, while playing together in her backyard I noticed a coal truck leave the Burgessville Co-op and stop at the nearby corner.

My father (about 35-years old at the time) was driving the truck and didn’t hear me when I yelled at him.

I must have hollered something like, “I want to go with you” because I enjoyed being his passenger on coal runs, and without saying good-bye to Rhonda or telling her mother where I was going I ran after the truck as it crossed highway 59 on its way to heaven knows where.

I ran to the other side of the road and gave chase as fast as my little legs would carry me.


[Two runners: Kim and Gord. Kim is in a harness with rope attached. He also has a pointy head.]

Within just a few minutes I was on the south edge of the tiny village and was delighted to see the truck turning into a laneway only one-half or three-quarters of a mile ahead.

So I began to walk.

It was then I noticed the ditches were quite deep and the fields seemed very lonely. I also imagined that several of the dark, brooding trees that stood on the wooded fence line were moving toward me and were preparing to chase me down the road.

So I began to run again.

I was relieved to draw even with a roadside barn because it blocked my view of the troublesome trees and still more relieved to see my father’s truck parked in the next farmer’s lane.

I can’t recall dad’s reaction when he saw me but I can remember mother’s when I arrived safely home.

She was almost in tears from fright and joy.

After hearing I had disappeared from the Wettlaufer’s backyard mother had sent out a small search party and was now considering to tie me in place for the rest of (what was likely going to be) my very short life.

Family history and several black and white photos inform me that she later tried and failed.

P.S. Dear Ma,

Now that I have the Boston Marathon out of my system I don’t run far or fast anymore.

Motorcycle Miles: Something about a small town, their fishermen and dogs

I admit it. I like small towns.

At 5 ft. 6 in. tall I blend right in and can usually find a spot to sit down, rub elbows with the locals and enjoy a coffee.

On the way to Port Bruce recently I passed through Powersville, population 27.


The hamlet has no place to stop for coffee but the residents do have 7 dogs.

After riding south another 15 minutes I snapped a few pictures of a fisherman dipping for minnows.


And then relaxed at the Sand Kastle next to Lake Erie’s shore.

If it warms up a few degrees I may get back that way again today.

Happy trails.

[Two more photos from Gord's small workshop are at Four Mugs]

Motorcycle Miles: There is something about a small town

I grew up in a small town and anytime I ride through one I sense there is a wee bit of magic at work in small places.

For example: I know there aren’t as many things to do or see in a hamlet, village or town but on any given day I may do or see one thing that appears more significant in a small setting than a bigger one.

While riding through Belmont this week I saw for the first time the cairn erected recently to honour soldiers past and present.

It reminded me of other more substantial monuments erected in Norwich, Brownsville, Atwood and Lieury, all tiny places almost off the beaten track (and you won’t find Lieury unless you’re lost)
.

[Belmont, Ontario]

I thought, for some reason small towns remember their sons and daughters so very well.

Is it because they lost 3 or 4 out of their handful rather than 30 or 40 out of their thousands?

Next time I’m lost in Lieury I’ll stop, read the few names on the hamlet’s fine marker and remember them too.

Friday Green Things: Prices rise but a maroon says we are helpless

High grain prices will increase the cost of many of our daily food staples e.g. bread, pasta, beef, chicken etc., but there’s not much we can do as consumers about the price of grain, says Bruce Cran, the president of the Consumers Association of Canada. [link to the newspaper article in today's London Free Press]

As Carla (from the sitcom Cheers) would have said, “What a maroon.”

Jiminy Cricket, there are many things consumers can do or not do, and it strikes me funny that a consumer advocate isn’t out there happily telling us what those things are.

In all fairness, Mr. Cran does go on to say that people will be doing less barbecuing to save a dollar but that sounds like a very simple observation to me.

If he was interested in helping consumers avert even higher prices in the very near future he would suggest we cut our consumption of meat by 50 - 80 per cent because the millions of tonnes of grain going to feed livestock could easily feed us - and for a growing number of over-weight and obese North Americans it would be a very healthy thing to do.

And if there’s less meat production there’s a lot less greenhouse gas emissions from animals and vehicles driving them to slaughter and then to the supermarket after they have been neatly wrapped in plastic. [Consumer advocates don't know this stuff?]

I will give Mr. Cran one pat on the head for saying that as we face bigger challenges come winter “the only thing you can do to help yourself is go and collect your grandma’s recipes for canning.”

Sure, it’s not the only thing we can do (which is somehow obvious to 99.99% of consumers) after we reduce our consumption - but it’s something.

I think I have a pickle recipe around here somewhere.

And you? What can you make yourself?

[Visit Four Mugs and a Crock to see Cartoon in Progress by G. Harrison]