Category Archives: Social Constructs

Mild Obsessions


I read either an online paper or conventional paper, watch a television newscast or four and try to hear at least one or two radio newscasts a day.  Some friends feel that this is an obsession bordering on mania, while others look upon it as just being plugged into planetary events.  The roots are from radio days.

I worked for five years in small-market radio in the Ottawa Valley (Hillbilly country to the American friends).  As an announcer there, you did everything, including reporting news.  The station that I spent the most time at, CHOV (defunct now) in Pembroke, was a private radio station that was a CBC affiliate.  CBC, to translate, is like NPR and BBC, but has commercials and is first rate radio.

Part of the agreement of being a CBC affiliate was that we broadcast X-number of hours of live CBC Radio Network programming per week.  My first shifts were evenings, when AM radio used to do balls-out rock and roll radio:  1050 CHUM, The Great 8 CKLW, CFTR, WABC, CFRA, the rock and roll monsters before FM took over, blasted into our market, eating up our audience. 

We were broadcasting “The World At Six” and “As It Happens” from the CBC.  In that all-important, at the time, teen demographic, we might as well have been broadcasting Muslim prayers from Mecca.

The shift I did was a 120 minute blob between the 8 pm and 10 pm hours, of, naturally, balls-out rock and roll AM radio.  I started work at 6 pm and finished at midnight, spending the two hours before my real work and after my real work, listening to CBC.  As the programs from CBC required nothing more from you than to do a 30-second station ID, every hour at 30 seconds to the exact hour, I had plenty of time to listen.  As I also did a 30 second newsbreak at 10:19:30 PM I had to stay on top of the news wire, Canadian Press, that chattered over in the corner of the newsroom.

Consequently, being plugged in to world events via CBC and Canadian Press, I developed a manageable News Addiction.  In Television, I was near the newsroom feeds for eight years and saw the Challenger blow up live, a bus hijacking on Parliament Hill, the Papal Visit and hundreds of other events without a filter of time or analysis that only served to feed the news jones.

My point, and I do have one, is that I also look for the occasional offbeat news story.  I don’t really feel satisfied with my morning news-graze until I find that one very odd, strange, or head-shaking story.  And there is one every day.

Today, (link no longer working) a town in the US is the proud owner of a giant Cheeto.  The person who found it in a bag of Cheeto’s put it up on eBay and got bids on it.  Then, in a moment of clarity, donated the Cheeto to his town, where they plan to put the lump on display.  The funds that were bid to buy it, were turned over to the town Food Bank.  Frito-Lay was the big bidder, putting up a cool $1000 to get the orange lump.

The town plans to preserve the Giant Cheeto in a Plexiglas box, on a velvet pillow at City Hall, probably charging visitors a buck or five to see the Giant Cheeto.  My concern is not the town putting the Giant Cheeto on display, or charging for admission to see the Giant Cheeto, as that is The American Way.

I am most concerned about the poor child who wanted a mitt full of cheesy-annatto-coloured-deep-fried-corn-meal-sodium-bomb  who got ripped off his preservative fix for the afternoon.  The Bastards! Is there nothing that can be done?!?!?

Mardi Gras


Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Carnival, Fasching.  All the same.  Use up the fat with pancakes or other kinds of cakes, drink all the liquor, behave like a fool, as tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. 

This ancient rite goes back to Roman times, as the precursor to Spring and a period of restraint in the last days of Winter.  The Easter/Lenten connection dropped in with the development of Christianity, but at its heart, Fat Tuesday is as good an excuse to party it up as any we have. 

How you choose to party it up, depends on all kinds of societal elements.  New Orleans, with its usual flair and long Catholic and African heritage has raised Mardi Gras to a High Art adding their own spin in recent years of ‘Show Us Your Tits” in exchange for the beaded ‘throws’ or ‘doubloons’. Furtive fondling of women is de rigeur at Carnival.  Pancakes are a UK/Canadian kind of thing, while Fasching in Germany involves elaborate costumes and huge meals before midnight, with much stealing of kisses, groping and general misbehaving. 

In each instance we celebrate the potential arrival of Spring with one last dose of hoopla before we have to hunker down with spring planting, cleaning and the usual drone work of the change of seasons.

Welcome the Spring.

Hanging Up The Sweater


Fred Rogers, known to generations of us as Mister Rogers, passed away at the age of 74.  His calm and kind demeanour, the red sweater and his gentleness will be missed. 

There are certain touchstones in our lives that we miss when they are gone.  Mister Rogers was one of them.

Whom To Sue


More fallout from Rhode Island and North Carolina as the lawyers get involved in two interesting cases.  The Rhode Island club fire sees everyone connected with the case, the state, the fire marshal office, the band, and the club owners jockeying for position in the court of public opinion.  In North Carolina, where the young girl was given a transplanted set of heart and lungs of the wrong blood type, then a second set with the right specs, sees Duke University Hospital and the parents lining up with the briefcase set.

In an adversarial legal arena, like we have in Canada and the US, you prove that the other guy was totally at fault and damaged you irreparably, to the extent that the only way you (or your estate) can be made better is by the topical application of millions of tax-free dollars in real and punitive damages. 

But I will argue, in both of these cases, that even if there are obvious bad guys who were cavalier with human life and just plain did not give a flying damn, that there should be a limitation on liability.  In both cases, there is much good to come from a complete and open investigation of all sides in the tragedies.  That means getting rid of the lawyers in both cases.  Lawyers, although noble in many causes, are not there to find the problem and fix it.  Lawyers are there to keep their fees coming.

As a hypothetical example, in Rhode Island.  Let’s say the band didn’t get the OK of the club to fire off indoor pyro.  Why did the backing go up so fast?  Was it poorly spec’d?  Did the fire marshal not see that it was flammable?  Was the effects charge mislabelled, designed for a bigger venue but labeled with a smaller margin of safety?  Do the laws regarding indoor effects need to be toughened, or just enforced better?  Was the band clear with the club about the type and kind of effects?  Were there too many people in the club?  Was the club constructed of materials that were not appropriate to that kind of use?  Should EXIT signs be improved?  Are overhead sprinklers mandatory in public meeting places? 

And on and on and on.  We’ll never know, because the lawyers won’t let anyone answer those questions, as they could be construed as admissions of guilt.

In North Carolina, what went wrong that a set of internal organs of the wrong blood type wound up in Jessica?  Is the paperwork good enough?  Is the organ donation system flawed, or is this one of those one-in-a-million completely human mistakes? Do doctors trust too many people to do their part of the job and hope that everything else works? 

I don’t know, but I do know that a prosecution-free investigation without any blame finding repercussions and lawyers, will find out what happened in both cases, leading to improvements in the overall system of how things get done.

Unfortunately, the cynic in me says that a no-fault investigation in either case is not in the best interests of the lawyers, therefore it will never happen. 

The parallel here is aircraft crash investigation.  The National Transportation Safety Board, the Transportation Safety Board and the Civil Aviation Authority in the US, Canada and Britain respectively do not seek to apportion blame.  They seek to find why an event happened through rigorous scientific and evidentiary testing of all the potential reasons why and how an air crash can happen. 

If it were possible in Rhode Island and North Carolina for an investigation into “why” rather than “who”, we would all be better served from these two tragedies.

Alas, the legal eagles are lining up to sue someone.  Notice that nobody is talking about suing the club owners, the band, or the pyrotechnician simply because they don’t have any money.  Rule One is never sue poor people.  Let’s sue the State of Rhode Island, as they have money and we can all get our pay day.  If it turns out that the fireworks company that made the charge is a big multinational, we’ll sue them too, as they have money.  And if Johns Manville made the foam on the backing of the stage, or the ceiling tiles, or the paint, we’ll sue them too, as they have pockets full of cash. 

Same in North Carolina, the family will probably not sue the hospital directly, but the hospital’s insurance carrier, who have deep pockets from all the premiums they collect and the company that made the bracelet that Jessica wore with her blood type because its Becton Dixon and they have deep pockets too as a major medical device manufacturer.  But Bayer made the anti-rejection drugs to keep her transplanted organs from leaping out, and Bayer is big, so let’s include them in this madness.

Madness is the correct term.  We want to know what went wrong and why and how to prevent it from happening again.  That is what we, as a society want from these two tragedies.  Answers and fixes.  Not blame.

Tomz Tipz


Homeland Security Director Tom Ridge announced his Operation Ready to put some focus on the home front preparations for Bad Things.  They’re mostly common-sense:  Have an Emergency Kit, Water, Medicines, First Aid Kit, battery-powered radio and spare batteries, food and the rest of the things we’ve been told we need in our houses at all times.  Except Tom Ridge missed a few things:

A can opener:  Nothing like being trapped in your personal bunker for a week, with cans of food and nothing stronger than a #2 pencil to open the tins.

Liquor: Face it, with the Apocalypse happening outside, you’ll need a drink or two to settle your nerves.  Should it be single-malt? Wine?  Beer? What about mix and garnish?  If we’re going to stay in the bunker, we DO need bar snacks, don’t we?

A screened off area for some kind of Porta-Potty.  After all, if the whole family is squeezed into the bunker, do you want to watch Aunt Esther taking a dump after the fourth day of the MexiCasa Dried Habanero Dip?  I think an air-freshener might be good too.

Swim fins.  Kids don’t go anywhere without swim fins.  Just look at the television commercials, all kids have swim fins for the hotel pool.  Don’t tell the kids we’re all going into the bunker, just tell them we’re playing ‘vacation’ in the ‘basement hotel’.

Digital Cable.  You have to keep up with the devastation and CNN just gives you the American perspective.  BBC World Service is on Digital Cable, hence, you must have Digital Cable.

A comfy sofa.  If we learned nothing from the September 11th terror attacks, sitting on the sofa for two solid days with your mouth open, unblinking and uncomprehending, is that good seating is imperative for Back Health.  And since you’ll have to dig out of your bunker when it all settles out, you should take care of your back.

The Seinfeld “The Contest” Episode.  Laughter is always the best medicine, so says Reader’s Digest.  Laughing while your lungs melt should ease the tension of the End of Days.  Get a VCR to go with the Digital Cable.

A Wal-Mart.  You’ll need jumbo bags of Reese’s Pieces to keep the kids quiet when they find out the ‘vacation in the basement hotel’ doesn’t have a pool, Nintendo, or a PlaySpace.  Only Wal-Mart has the volume pricing you’ll need.  After all, it’s going to take some money to rebuild your life after utter devastation of the planet, so save a buck or two now and top up your 401(k) or RRSP.

A guitar.  Singing Cum-By-Yah with the family around the fires of Damnation is so much better with accompaniment.

Guns.  Lots of Guns.  And ammunition. Lots of ammunition.

Tom Ridge’s personal phone number, or the iPaq with the lawyers on speed-dial.  After all, if Tom didn’t tell you all the things you should have in your bunker, you should sue him.

Groundswell


Today is the international day of Peace Protest.  Perfectly fine, as membership in some kind of democracy involves some rights and obligations. To wit:

1.  Vote.  Voting is the essential keystone of democracy.  Majority rules, even in Florida.  Mark your X, have your say, win graciously, lose graciously.  Those who do not vote are not entitled to or engage in any of the other rights and obligations. Even if you have to hold your nose to do it, vote.

2. Listen.  Your elected representative is exactly that:  YOURS.  You own him or her and if they forget that little point, remind them.  Sometimes listening to the elected representative will tell you more about their stand and how it either matches with yours, or deviates from yours.

3. Think.  After you have heard someone speak, be it the government or someone with a contrary opinion, let it sink in.  Does their position make sense to you?  Is it sane, rational, or delusional?  Is it backed up by facts that you can check, or just ‘they say’ assumptions. 

4. Speak.  You are entitled to complain about governance. If you are not heard from then your silence is considered acceptance. Speaking, even in a forum as obscure as RoadDave is perfectly acceptable as it gives others something to think about.  They might not agree with you, but listening and thinking about what you say may, or may not convince them of your point of view.

The reason I’ve listed these four, simple, points is this:  Raytheon Presents The Gulf War II, brought to you by Lockheed-Martin (c) looks like it is going to happen, regardless of what Hans Blix and the Hot Licks has to say.  My position has always been War is Bad.  But if you’re going to fight, do it hard, nasty and fast, come First, then go home.

Other people and organizations do not share my point of view.  However, this list forces an obligation on both sides of the argument.  You must let those who do not agree have their say and listen to them. 

Don’t automatically call someone who thinks further inspections are a waste of time or the only path to peace, a hawk or dove or war-monger, or ostrich.  This means no detention camps for peaceniks or fighters.  After the decision is made, in whichever direction it goes, we all pull together.  We’ve had our say, we’ve listened and now we act together.

Stick And Ball


I admit to not being a fan of stick and ball sports.  I can watch them, as I have the essential knowledge of how most are played, although I do admit scoring in Cricket does perplex me.

I have played some of the more popular ones at some time in my life, including, ice hockey, street hockey, North American football, European football, rugby, baseball and softball.  I have taken up arms and played lacrosse twice, table tennis, lawn tennis, badminton, squash, basketball, curling and even was a member of the team that held the record for the longest single continuous (1974, 110 hours) volleyball game. 

I have even enjoyed golf from time to time. 

So, my sports credentials do cover a reasonable range of the leagued-up, televised, endorsement-fuelled recreations that feature good motor skills, physical endurance, strategy and team dynamics.  The Super Bowl is none of these. 

Leaving the hype aside, American football has stopped being important to anyone except sports bettors.  The game seems to be tertiary to the show.  Same with ice hockey, you go to see a bloody bare-knuckles fight by a bunch of guys on a slippery surface, when, pow, they start playing hockey?  Talk about buzz-kill.

At the current rate of hype, the Super Bowl will be played in a park near Tupelo Mississippi and the television coverage will occasionally pop out to see the game.  The rest of the five hour broadcast will be in a huge stadium in Anaheim, featuring Celine Dion, Brittney Spears, Maya Anjelou and Brad Pitt singing the National Anthem. 

There will be fireworks, 12-storey inflatable Flintstones characters, massed marching bands creating patterns on the field, commercials ranging from Ozzy and Fozzy for long distance, to the Budweiser Clydesdales standing on their back legs in a bar, trying to hustle some mares. 

There will be a flypast of military jets and everyone will be asked to hold their seat cushion over their head to form an American Flag for the Service Men and Women, while the Goodyear blimp takes a picture of it and sends it by satellite to those in Kandahar.

There will be at least one shirtless, morbidly obese man, painted blue with the logo of one of the teams on his chest and face.  Naturally, there will be the “John 3:16” guy there as well as the obligatory “Hi Mom” sign waver with his friend the Big Foam Finger Fellow.

After two hours or so of this, the networks will cut away to the actual game in Tupelo, where the score is still 3-3 after one of the players fell down and skinned his knee.  An opposing player had to go home because he got a nosebleed and its time for his ADHD medication.  Oh, and Mom is making chicken tonight, so I don’t want to miss dinner, besides, the street lights are coming on, so its time to go home.

Everyone will leave sated and satisfied that they had seen the best Super Bowl ever, talking over the commercials, the singers, dancers, fireworks and marching band hijinks for the next week.  Much money will change hands as office pools and other bettors pay up, or pay off, or weasel out. 

In other words, its not the game, it is the hype that makes the Super Bowl what it thinks it is.  At its core, the game is immaterial to all but the players.  The rest of it is a parade float to give a child’s game the status the networks demand.  Reality is we’re watching a gigantic sideshow without going into the big tent.

Deep Freeze Over–Snow Begins


Our time in the cold chamber has ended, with a bottom limit of -36 C (almost -35 F) and we all survived, as Canadians in this neck of the country do.  The benefit of these extreme temperatures is that it is too cold to snow. 

This morning, the temperature rose to -6 C and the air that has been stuffed with moisture from the past week and change, is now shedding that moisture as snow.  Big, fat, fluffy flakes of snow landing on top of frozen snow.  The ‘I wish school would close today’ kind of snow you remember as a child is coming down heavily lining branches on the crab apple tree, covering the car and whitening all the grey frozen streets.

In sixty days or so, we’ll be in the throes of Spring.  For today, we’re enjoying, as best we can, the snow of our childhood.

Clones II


Just read a story on CNN.com (link broken, so try Wikipedia)regarding cc. the Cloned Cat.  She was named cc. for Carbon Copy, as she was cloned from a cat called Rainbow. 

They are different colours, both calico cats, but not the same colour patches, so that gene doesn’t work.  Personality?  I know many of us here have cats, so we can talk about that easily.

Rainbow is a bouncy thing, curious, etc.  cc. is quiet and reserved.  Rainbow, the donor DNA is slim and trim and cc is a bit of a pudge.  DNA testing proved that Rainbow and cc are identical cats and the whole deal was done at Texas A&M University, which is a fairly reputable place, not affiliated with an alien race, unless you consider Texas to be alien. (Insert your own joke here, this is an interactive posting by the way…)

Which I think opens up the whole Nature/Nurture argument.  Assuming we had some Adolf Hitler DNA around could we brew up another?  Based on Rainbow and cc, the first answer is no and thank you Deity of Choice that the mythical experiment fails.  So how much is of a person is DNA sequencing and how much is how they are raised?

I tend to side that Nurture is more of a determinant in how we develop as humans.  For example, my brother and I come from the same genetic material and approximately the same upbringing.  However, I was the firstborn and since kids don’t come with manuals for raising them, my parents made their first mistakes on me. 

Six years later, they made a different set of mistakes with my brother.  Welcome to parenting.  Consequently, my brother and I are totally different people in temperament, abilities and any other measurable parameter you might choose.  We share a sibling resemblance, but we even have different hair lines last I looked, so common donor DNA is at best, a flaky matchup.

It looks like you can’t get an exact duplicate through cloning.  There are too many parameters and outside influences that determine the whole of the person and the personality, which is what people who want to clone their pets, for instance, really want.  The Rainbow and cc experiment was initially developed because some guy with too much money wanted to clone his favourite collie, Missy, before she died.

A noble sentiment, as most of us have pets who have passed on, that we sorely miss and would love to have back.  But the Rainbow/cc science shows that it doesn’t really work that way.  We have known this, intuitively, just by looking at our siblings and seeing the differences. 

I’m going to set aside the whole ethical thing for a moment here.  Why couldn’t we use this technology of making exact genetic duplicates to make spare parts?  If you caught your arm in a punch press, or forgot to turn off the mixer before you licked the beaters, the clone is a perfect source of parts.  The added benefit is not having to take immunosuppressive anti-rejection drugs for the rest of your life, as the spare from the clone, will not be rejected by the body as it IS the body, at least genetically.

Taking this to a more logical conclusion, Type O blood is a universal blood:  If you need a transfusion, you can take Type O, regardless of what your blood type is in the vast majority of cases, which is why Canadian Blood Services wants lots of Type O around.  Could we engineer spare organs and parts that are like Type O?  They’ll graft into the vast majority of people without anti-rejection drugs and about all you’ll have left is a bit of a scar from the surgery?

There is the real Brave New World border.  Essentially eternal life, swapping out body parts that age, get damaged or stop working.  We already do it with hearts, lungs, kidneys, livers, bone marrow, skin and eyes.  If you believe that the brain is the bag of water and flesh that determines the person and personality, then moving it to another chassis is just a few years away.  Perhaps ten years.  Welcome to the future my friends.  We are now here.

Deep Freeze


There are some joys to being Canadian.  One of which is scaring our American neighbours with some of our spellings, of things like neighbour, colour, honour and cheque, where we use the British spelling.  Or, the pronunciation of ‘Schedule’ rather than ‘Sked-yule’, which means, by pronunciation, I woke up this morning and had a schit and a pisch before I made the coffee.

The BigFun-YankeeFrightener is the weather.  I just eyeballed the weather for the next five days for Ottawa.  Daily high temps start at -11C and drop to -19C by Wednesday. Those are the high temperatures, not the lows and don’t take into account wind chill.  In Ottawa, we call it Winterlude Weather, as it always seems to land during the winter carnival called Winterlude and naturally American tourists think that we have this all year-round.

Please be assured, dear American friends, this is the two or three weeks a year in Ottawa that Mother Nature just up and tries to kill you.  The other 49 or so weeks are Temperate, Too Damn Hot, Not Bad, Wet or Construction and Road Work.

There are other colder national capitals in the world.  Ulan Bator in Mongolia is it compared to Ottawa.  Even Helsinki and Reykjavik are warmer, but we like it here most weeks, except the next one or two or three.