KNOW THINE AMENITY

THIS BLOG IS UPDATED FRIDAY/SATURDAY


Wild Sky / S. Shawcross / 16 x 20 / Oil on canvas / $120
Be sure to visit our painting blog: http://thedeadpearsociety.blogspot.com


This weeks feature video:
Sometimes some of us have way way too much time on our hands...
and it gets really really bad when we take it out on our hair.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9nCrneS39Y&feature=related


CURRENT COMMENTARY: This column written in 2005 is self-explanatory and/or I think I've raved already about the topic. A central theme is the weather we Quebecers have in winter when it is "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey." Now I'm lucky to have a brother who pretty much knows everything and who explained to me that this phrase had nothing to do with the unfortunate results of hairy little beasts from India being exposed to a Quebec winter. In fact, during the "olden days" when ships went to sea, they used cannons to scare away the pirates and fight their never-ending wars. Cannons required cannonballs and cannonballs on the deck of a ship were kept in holders--branch-like affairs made out of brass. They were called brass monkeys. When the wind blew cold and the water froze and the air grew bitter with winter, on deck the brass holders would CONTRACT and the iron cannonballs (CONTRACTING at a slower rate) would pop out... hence the phrase. There. You learned something. Never say this blog is all tripe and foolishness!


KNOW THINE AMENITY

I just want to know one thing: How are we all supposed to take the issue of global warming seriously when we live in Quebec in January? I mean really, tell me the truth, isn’t there just a little part of us all that wishes this darn global warming stuff would just hurry up and get here? Especially on those mornings when hell hath no fury like a brass monkey kept out overnight and the car won’t start?

Now I’m pretty much like everybody else, laboring under the profound guilt of living in a first world country with amenities. There’s nothing like amenities to make you feel guilty I’ve concluded. So there I was just after bringing in a ghastly New Years watching the tsunami in Sri Lanka on my television amenity when up pops Rick Mercer of This Hour has 22 minutes fame. “Take the one ton challenge” threatens Mercer on the TV screen in black and white. (You gotta know it’s serious when they do it in black and white.) Now I’m one of those people that thinks we ought to listen to Rick Mercer so when Rick Mercer tells us to “Take the one ton challenge”, then darnit we’d better pretty much listen. The fate of our amenities lies in the balance.

So I got myself onto that computer amenity that I have and looked up the website. Much to my profound relief I discovered that the one ton challenge has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with restricting carbohydrates and transfats. (There is a God, I thought to myself) I waited patiently for the results of my on-line questionnaire that was going to help me save the planet by reducing carbon emissions by one ton. All I had to do was plop in all these little yes/no answers and a few figures about water heaters and solar panels and boom… up it comes--the bar chart of guilt--the one that is bound to make you feel like a person living in a first world country with amenities.

Well… Apparently I don’t have the right amenities. I figure in order for me to save one ton I would have to buy a dishwasher, a car, a freezer and clothes dryer. Then I’ll have to add on an extension to the house and put in a garage. That way I can then easily save a ton of carbon emissions by giving them all up or insulating them.

Isn’t it always the way it is… all the fun stuff is reserved for people with better amenities because all they have to do is unplug their cappuccino coffee maker and third car while the rest of us are left out of this whole challenge thing. Either that or we give up our bus pass and walk 30 miles to the store.

Not to worry though, I think I’ve discovered a way that those of us on this side of the bar chart can help save the world by reducing carbon emissions. If we all do this once every hour by my estimations the amenity-challenged people of the world alone will be able to save the planet in less than sixty days! Are you ready? Here it is: Inhale twice and exhale only once. Okay everybody all together now… in with the oxygen, in with the oxygen, out with the carbon dioxide. Again.

ON THE MATTER OF TATTERS

THIS BLOG IS UPDATED FRIDAY/SATURDAY

Man with a Cigar / S. Shawcross / 16 x 20 / Oil on canvas / SOLD
Be sure to visit our painting blog: http://thedeadpearsociety.blogspot.com

This weeks feature video:
We've all seen a lot of animal videos but this one is a classic.
http://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2010/12/28/animal-crackers.aspx
OR
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ssXJtzFOjA&feature=player_embedded#!


CURRENT COMMENTARY: Written in May 2004.

ON THE MATTER OF TATTERS

I was deeply distressed to read that "serious tattification" was going on in Chelsea. (The Low Down, Letters to the Editor, April 2004) How can this be? In our Chelsea? Just when we thought dog-strangling vine was the worst of our worries, along comes tattification! Here we all are, living in gleeful ignorance in a community founded by proud New England protestants (with a penchant for pastel I might add) speaking the Queen's English with the best of them, only to find ourselves living with the word tattification. Oh the shame!

I hate to bring this up but we've really got to straighten this out before it gets out of hand: Tattification is not a word. It just isn't. Now don't get me wrong, I think it’s an astounding made-up word, given that inventing a word is no small thing.

The word tatters is of Scandinavian origin. There is very little obscurity in its usage, unlike many words such as sanctimonious or sacerdotalism or smatter. Tatters is a fine (now english) word with many uses. For example, if you should happen to lose your job to retirement, illness, downsizing, cheap labor in Thailand or bilingualism you might find yourself wearing rags or, you guessed it, tatters.

If you find yourself working day and night just to pay your taxes, with no time to paint your house and you happen to meet the mayor at a cocktail party you would be right to say, "My jacket is tatty because I have been buying my clothes at the Sally Ann and they're fresh out of new Mountain Equipment Co-op apparel."

If you find yourself desperately trying to find pastel paint in the bargain section of the hardware store, you could say to the clerk rightfully, "I must apologize for my tattered jacket as I can no longer afford to dry-clean it."

If, after having laboriously recreated a Victorian Revival Living Room from a House and Garden Magazine, you find much to your horror the magazine was outdated, you would undoubtedly apologize for having "tatted" the lace curtains that may have offended your neighbors. This is the verb, to tat.

Now we know something can be tatty, and/or tattered, rags are tatters, and you can tat some lace, however, what you may not know is that by wearing tatters you are a tatterdemalion (pronounced tatter-duh-MAY-lee-on). If you've lost your job, or lost your house to a landslide, expropriation or unruly septic system, you need not despair as you can now have business cards printed up with your name that read, Tatterdemalion, Chelsea. This will give you a certain authority when you describe to others exactly how the tattification of your life occurred and why you haven't painted your house lately.

Now that we know that "tattification" is the noun that actually means flagrant disregard for neighbors’ sensibilities, we should fully explore degrees of tattification. This is not as simple as it looks. For example, an old barn with grey boards once was tattification, but now its rustically charming. How much peeling paint on a house must there be to classify it as tatty? At what point does tattification become rustification?

It’s not just houses. What about people? We definitely get tatty. Middle age is the beginning of tattification. If you can't afford cosmetic surgery to remove the wrinkles, would it be correct to say, "I've been going through tattification but I’m looking forward to rustification." Yes indeed. We're on to something here. I wonder if we could get a government grant to study this? Avoiding tattification in your neighborhood.

IN FLANDERS FIELDS THE COFFEE GROWS

THIS BLOG IS UPDATED FRIDAY/SATURDAY

Hollow Hills / S. Shawcross / 24 x 18 / Oil on masonite / $120
Be sure to visit our painting blog: http://thedeadpearsociety.blogspot.com

This weeks feature video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-94JhLEiN0&feature=related

CURRENT COMMENTARY: The thing about humour is that sometimes it comes from dark places. It seems like every introduction I make to these columns on this website is deadly serious. Call it my dark side. If you simply want to smile, skip the commentary. I won't mind really... :)

Now somewhere along the line in the 80s some advertising executive in some fancy office in some place probably New York came up with a novel concept. One which could have been the direct result of the backlash against the Super Corporations or in imitation of the ever-popular and successful sports sponsorship programs. He and/or she thought of corporate sponsorship of charitable events. And it was a success beyond measure. In order to placate the masses and make them believe they were good, the corporations began sponsoring significant do-gooder events. Any charity worth its weight had a corporate sponsor and if they didn't they were looking.

In the 90s I was involved in the set-up of a foundation. I needed volunteers in my region. And being a problem-solver type person I went to an organization in Ottawa that provided volunteers. In order to get those volunteers I had to take a two day course in how to be nice to volunteers. With that under my belt I phoned for my volunteers.

Except they were busy.

The Corporations, in this case I believe specifically Bank of America, were in need of a charitable event to highlight how nice they were and to sell their latest credit card idea to exploit the masses. The Volunteer agency scrambled to find some event that week that Bank of America could have. It had to be big and it had to be media friendly. Such things happened regularly by large corporations I was told by a source at the Volunteer agency.

I often wonder if such efforts by Bank of America were not just to exploit the masses but also to "ease into Ottawa" the concept of an American ethos of running a corporation... It's a whole different world believe me. Certainly its not just an American phenomenon but in this particular case let's just say that for some organizations the slave-owner mentality has not quite been eradicated. Behind closed doors there are shocking stories to be told. (I have my sources) Again, let's just say it's amazing what money can buy. But that's an entirely different story which one day I just might write. But not today. Along with these reasons of course there may have been the need to cover up the fact that as with other banksters they were in the process of, at that time, fuc***ing up the entire world financial system for which we will all pay heavily. I do so wonder how those prosecutions of Bank of America's Ken Lewis and his ilk are going. Nothing makes me happier really.

Now I'm not saying charity by corporations is a bad thing. Charities need money and corporations need the tax write off. Nobody can argue with that. But that's the crux of the matter. I always figure that if something is non-arguable then its very suspect and demands argument! So let's not kid ourselves shall we as to what that money means. At what price charity? Take the money but with eyes wide open is always my advice. If anybody asked me. Which they don't. Of course. Take the money but weigh the balance carefully. If you're saving people from a horrible disease in Toronto are you doing it at the expense of a foreclosed homeowner in Nebraska or a slave-labourer in China or a frightened employee in some ruthless corporation? Simple questions. Simple answers which require not just answers but ownership.

However. Times changed and governments started running out of money. That's when they found corporate sponsorship. And hence my story below. This piece was written in December of 2004 when the Canadian Mint in it's wisdom came out with the looney, the first "coloured" coin with a red poppy on it. You could buy it at Tim Hortons. At least it was a Canadian company. There's always that.

IN FLANDER'S FIELDS THE COFFEE GROWS


This column is no longer available on the website. It is contained in the new book available for a mere pittance from Amazon.ca.