C'mon in... the water's, er, shallow???

In a recent interview with People magazine, the Republican parties Vice Presidential candidate appeared to out-Palinate herself.

Hard to believe, but true, I'm afraid.

As most of us are aware, Sarah Palin and her husband, potential First Dude, Todd, have five children. Palin claimed that if she and Dude were to have had a sixth child, they already had a name picked out. To refresh memories, here are the names of her brood - to date: Track; Bristol; Willow; Piper; and, Trig. "I always wanted a son named Zamboni."

No, I'm not making this up. These things almost write themselves.

Zamboni.

Naming a kid after an ice resurfacing machine.

Nice. Although this may well corroborate her claim to being a true hockey Mom.

Not only that, in this same interview, Caribou Barbie considers herself intellectual. Remember, this is the same woman who, when pressed by that heavyweight journo, Katie Couric to name a single newspaper or magazine she read, she was unable to.

Now she states she is a "voracious reader"... One can only wonder what she reads these days - other than Reader's Digest versions of briefing papers.

An intellectual. And another hapless child named Zamboni.

Like I said, the potential depth of this gene pool might represent a shallow tide pool - regrettably frozen over in the Alaskan tundra.

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

Here we are. The calendar tells me that today is Tuesday, October 21, 2008.

And yet I drove an hour or so ago from the Newmarket area back to home base through snow. Yes, that's right, snow!

Now to those of you south of the 49th parallel or across the pond, you likely think that it always snows where me and TLATO live. Not hardly. We expect snow, sure, but really not until December or thereabouts. Not now.

Two days ago I was still dealing with cleaning up leaves and now I have to make a call to our friendly neighbourhood snow plow guy to remind him we wish to be under contract again this winter.

People, winter is not supposed to be officially here until December - the 21st, to be precise. The clocks have yet to go back.

I knew that all those pine trees, their boughs weighed down with pine cones and the cedars and Mountain Ash trees that have been laden with fruit these past few weeks were giving us advance notice; it's going to be a long winter ahead.

Not too much that we can do about it - except to make an appointment to have our all season tires and rims removed and replaced with the ugly black steel rims and snow tires. And soon.

Joe who?

OK, just to clear up any misconceptions, this has little to do with the Canadian political landscape. Sorry to disappoint any Canadian political junkies out there, but this has absolutely nothing to do with Joe Clark, a now well-respected Canadian political statesman who while relatively young and politically inexperienced, became the butt of editorial cartoonists across this land and so, "Joe Who?" as he was dubbed by the Toronto Star, was born. Clark's best statement during his career? “A recession is when your neighbour loses his job. A depression is when you lose your job. Recovery is when Pierre Trudeau loses his job.”

I digress.

Seems as if south of the 49th parallel, members of the Republican party, particularly Presidential hopeful, John McCain and his Caribou Barbie sidekick, Sarah Palin, have claimed the first name of "Joe" as the leading given name in their rhetoric-filled vocabulary. Palin, you may recall, introduced the world to the notion of "Joe Six-Pack" as a description of an average American male (note: not all American males are obese and have a drinking problem). McCain in the early stages of the final Presidential debate of 2008, brought forth the character of "Joe, the Plumber" who, after 26 mentions (five for Obama and 21 by McCain) during the 90-minute debate, gained near legend status within 24 hours of his induction into the US Wall of Shame.

Once again, it soon became apparent that McCain and his handlers had not delved under the covers to find out a little more about this fellow - sound familiar, Sarah Palin? In every day life, “Joe” is Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, a resident of Holland, Ohio. He claims to be a plumber - yet he has no license or papers and brashly claims he does not need one. “Not so”, says David Golis, manager and residential building official for the Toledo Division of Building Inspection. In fact, the Association of Plumbers, Steamfitters and Service Mechanics revealed that Wurzelbacher was not a licensed member of their trade. Golis went on to state that "Joe" should also be a licensed apprentice or journeyman to work in Toledo, Ohio - and he's not.

McCain eagerly stated that under Senator Obama's proposed tax plans, a budding entrepreneur like "Joe" would be taxed more if his company's annual revenues exceeded $ 250,000.00. Seems Joe has plans to buy this plumbing business from his employer "some day". Obama has stated clearly on more than one occasion that small business revenue of $ 250,000.00 and down, would continue to be taxed at the current rate of 36%. Anything greater, would be taxed at 39%.

So, if "Joe" somehow had the financing in place to buy this business (according to his 2006 tax return, filed as a matter of public record due to a divorce, he claimed an income in the mid $ 40's), he would need to be licensed. That may present problems since "Joe" has also not completed the training program necessary to sit the examination for a license test.

McCain’s exuberance to present a "gotcha" on Obama may well backfire and the victim could well be "Joe". This fellow even owes back taxes - which should be of no real consequence here. McCain's, one might argue, well intended framing of "Joe" as an average future business owner has placed "Joe" front and centre in the public's eye. A position I'm betting he personally wished he was not in. He and his employer may find themselves under most unwelcome scrutiny; something, at the outset, no one imagined would be the result of yet another Republican "shout out".

Democrats claim that this individual could not possibly have enough income to face a tax increase under the Obama plan. What they perhaps were unaware was McCain’s tongue-in-cheek statement during a speech at a benefit/fund raiser in New York City yesterday evening: “Joe, the plumber, recently signed a very lucrative contract with a wealthy couple to handle all the (plumbing) work on all seven of their houses.” McCain was referring to his own personal property holdings.

Who knows, John. Your actions may leave “Joe” unemployed and you on the moral hook for the welfare of the Wurzelbacher family. But then again, that would reduce your personal tax bill since you would have additional dependents.

And the rich continue to get richer.

©Andy Donato, Sun Media

Things do happen in threes...

Readers of this blog will be aware of two recent incidents that me and my "truck", a 2008 Nissan Rogue has experienced over the last two weeks:

1. A mishap in the parking lot of Costco in Peterborough; and,


2. Above vehicle being tagged and towed a week later in Toronto.

You'll recall the saying that "bad things usually occur in threes"?

Well, here we go.

On Sunday, while backing out our driveway, the truck was making some very strange noises - sounding awfully like a man with severe prostate problems, groaning with the effort of attempting to pee - or not.

These same noises could also be heard when the vehicle was travelling forward and a hard turn was made.

Earlier today at TransCanada Nissan, I described those same symptoms to Dean Bosnell the Service Manager. Dean being Dean, did not react one way or the other to my description, not even an "I'll humour you" smile.

Up went the vehicle on a hoist. The underside was examined thoroughly; all four wheels were removed (should have brought in my snow tires); brakes were checked, etc. Nothing.

Everyone even cheerfully and readily admitted that all the shop's techs could hear the car groaning and moaning.

After each methodical check, the truck was then driven to determine if the vehicle was still under duress. Affirmative each time. They even had wires attached to various parts of the chassis and the tech was listening to the car "speak" through headphones.

To no avail.

Finally a decision was made to order and install a new differential. Did not make me feel any better to hear everyone at the dealership state that they had never heard any vehicle express itself in such a way ever before.

Lucky me.

The end to a perfect day?

"Meter" parking across the street from Toronto office...... $3.46

Cab ride and tip to 10 York Street, Toronto...... $16.50

Parking ticket issued by the City of Toronto...... $60.00

Bailing car out of vehicle impound, 10 York Street...... $147.00

Having my car towed from in front of my Toronto office Thursday afternoon... frickin' expensive.

Footnote: seems as if there is a possibility of fighting some of this. I have a disabled permit (due to hip replacement a while back) that was on prominent display and does not expire until November 7, 2008). I'll keep you posted.

Back to the future? Not a chance...

It’s happened to me many times before.

I’m sure that many of you have experienced a similar loss too, on occasion.

It can be downright annoying, frustrating even when it occurs, but what are you going to do? It’s a part of life. Suck it up and get on with it.

Yesterday I lost a half hour of my life I will never get back.

TLATO et moi were in Toronto for the better part of the day. We drove in early to meet at Sheryl’s Mum’s condo. We were to meet her two brothers and their family’s. From there we were all driving to a nearby cemetery where Joe, Sheryl’s Dad and nephew, Dylan had been laid to rest.

A family visit to gravesites prior to Yom Kippur, the day of atonement is a tradition observed by Jews regardless of their degree of practicing Judaism. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to observe various facets of this religion as Sheryl’s family have shared traditions and holidays; it all goes to broadening perspectives, something more of us might consider in the pursuit of our hopes and dreams.

After spending some time at both graves celebrating the lives of both men, we all returned to Sheryl’s Mums’ house. Janette and her husband George are always gracious hosts and in true tradition, went overboard in ensuring that all their guests were well fed and watered before they themselves sat down to eat. The time passed all too quickly; it’s not too often we all get together like this, but when it happens, it’s a raucous occasion, to be sure. Lots of laughter, some tears and then more laughter.

The time came for us to leave. The house was quiet for an hour or so prior to our departure so we could spend some “quality” time with George and Janette. Leftovers were wrapped, hugs exchanged, “I love yous” uttered and we were off.

After about 10 minutes in the car, TLATO decided to call Nancy; Nancy was looking in on Ben during the day to let him out to take care of business while we were away. All was well, and Sheryl told Nancy we should be home in about 90 minutes.

Now, for those of you that may both be familiar with the following fact, Sheryl is one of those individuals that can be directionally challenged; it’s a family thing, too by all accounts.

So, we get off the highway and are now driving on some beautiful country roads. The colours, although likely not quite at their peak were outstanding, the weather not too bad. All in all, pretty good conditions for a Sunday drive.

Approaching a familiar (to me) point in the road, Sheryl decided she would like to go a different way. A way, she said, she had not been. How prophetic. Not only was it unfamiliar to both of us, I believe that the great Canadian explorer, Jacques Cartier would have been hard-pressed to find himself had he too followed our route. For the record, we were driving Sheryl’s car – no navigation system and a broken compass.

We continued east on this road. Sheryl soon realized we had, indeed, driven this route before. However, instead of turning right which would have taken us onto an oft-travelled road, Sheryl decided that we should bear left. Now, at this point I could have said no and things would have been relatively OK. I did not. Why escapes me even today. So we headed what we assumed was north (overcast, much tree cover so a navigational mistake could have been made). On we drove. “Turn left here”. “Go straight”. This went on for about ten minutes. I was aware that I had no clue where we were. I had a rough idea, but that was it. We had not seen another car in some time. The roads were occasionally country dirt roads. When we did see any houses, they looked like something where the Peacock family from X-Files might have lived. I started humming the familiar refrain from “Deliverance” and locked all the doors as we continued on our journey.

“So,” I said. “Panicking yet?”

“Only on the inside, “ she responded quietly nervously folding and unfolding a map.

We drove though a few small villages that were not mentioned on any map. Nothing looked even vaguely familiar. I suggested that Nancy might be called again; we might not get home to let Ben out for some time yet.

Surprisingly enough, I remained, for me, relatively civil throughout all this. I never even raised my voice. I made it clear, however, that it would be a cold day in hell before I listened to directions from her again.

From out of nowhere we saw a small, twisted shotgun-pellet peppered sign that had a name we both recognized. All was not lost. The sun broke through the clouds. We could now determine the direction we were travelling. North and east. Perfect. Within a few minutes, we both recognized some of the surrounding landmarks. There would be no search party this day.

The detour had not really taken us much out of our way. It had, as I alluded earlier, removed a half hour from my existence which I would never regain.

“Why did you listen to me?” Sheryl almost pleaded, expecting the maelstrom that ordinarily might be sent in her general direction from my oft bitter-tongued mouth. But today, there would be none of that. I decided to add this to the life ledger; save it for another time when it would be needed. That was not today.

The detour did have one adverse effect… I had to pee like a race horse and home and civilization was still a good half hour away. A country pit stop was called for and made. And TLATO said nothing. Not a darned thing.

Nothing good can come from shopping...

October 2, 2008 is a date that will be remembered in Taylor family history.

Not so much because of the political debates on either side of the border, but it was the day when the new Costco store opened in Peterborough. This opening has been eagerly awaited by most that live in the immediate trading area for quite some time. In fact, TLATO had gone as far as to say that the only thing that was missing for her in the Kawarthas was a Costco.

For those of you who may not be familiar with the name… “Costco is the largest membership warehouse club in the world, dedicated to bringing our members the best possible prices on quality brand-name merchandise. With hundreds of locations worldwide, Costco provides a wide selection of merchandise, plus the convenience of specialty departments and exclusive member services, all designed to make your shopping experience a pleasurable one.”

OK. How many of you picked up on that last phrase, “…make your shopping experience a pleasurable one”?

In truth, the shopping experience was not unpleasant. It’s what occurred in the parking lot after the fact that made the experience, for me, at least, memorable and none too pleasant.

We’ve experienced large bills when shopping at other Costco locations in the past. Likely the most expensive one, before yesterday, was a shopping stock up expedition that also involved the purchase and installation of tires for Sheryl’s car. Michelins, I might add.

I digress.

Because this was grand opening day, it was, to many, a big deal. Me, not so much. Sheryl and Nancy had been looking forward to this day for what seemed forever. They were like kids counting down Christmas Day. You could almost hear the Carly Simon penned song, “Anticipation” playing over and over.

Even as my truck was loaded with all sorts of goods, they were still talking excitedly. In the car, it continued. Sheryl laughed. A very loud laugh. My right ear drum was partially paralyzed as it continued to resonate. I looked over at both women and gave my best “Quiet!” face – without actually saying anything. I started the car. The “twittering” continued. I looked at my rear view mirror. Checked both side mirrors. Looked over my right shoulder as I put the vehicle into gear and slowly moved back.

It’s hard to describe the sound when two objects with a combined weight of around 4 tons collide with one another. It’s a sound not soon to be forgotten.

“What the…” I exclaimed.

The angle was such an odd one that even at that moment, I could still not see what had been hit. I moved the vehicle forward and climbed from the truck, looking back at what was apparently a 2005 Chevy Uplander. His damage was on the driver’s side rear bumper – completely caved in. My 2008 Rogue, on the surface, barely a scratch, but there were some marks on the vinyl/plastic bumper again on the driver’s side and the left tail light had also been damaged.

As I walked toward the damaged mini-van, the other driver stepped out and moved towards me. He, too, was shaking his head. Turns out, he and his wife decided to come to the big opening and were leaving the parking lot at precisely the same time. He did not see me backing up either. Seems as if we had a perfect accident. Neither one of us could see the other party due to our respective vehicles’ blind spot.

Insurance information was exchanged and apologies were made and mutual blame was accepted. We were both at fault. The accident occurred on a private lot. No one was injured. Only pride was bruised.

Within 10 minutes of the incident, we were driving home.

You could have heard a pin drop. The silence in my truck was practically deafening.

Neither Nancy nor Sheryl could bring themselves to speak. And when it was attempted, without saying as much, my facial expression clearly stated that no further talking should occur in this car for quite some time.

Earlier this morning, the 3rd, I took my car into town to get an estimate for the damage incurred. In the grand scheme of things, it was not too bad. Here in Ontario with our no fault insurance system, it actually makes sense to pay for the damage out of pocket without incurring the potential consequence of a debilitating at fault accident within the next six years.

It’s illegal to drive without insurance. But, when over the years you have paid thousand and thousands of dollars for a moment just like this, there is reluctance to make that claim since it may place you in jeopardy for the future. Not a position I wish to be in. So, like just about everyone else who finds themselves in this similar situation, you smile through clenched teeth, write a cheque and then go along for the ride - literally.

Hoping that no obstacles are in the way.

Winkin', blinkin' ... and Todd?

Unless you have "been doing a Saddam" and hiding in a spider hole these last few days, yesterday evening, October 2, the North American Continent had two political debates on National television.

Here in Canada, as I stated in an earlier post, I believe that the majority of Canadians who were looking for an evening’s entertainment, watched all or part of the US Vice-Presidential debate from St. Louis, MO as opposed to the Canadian English-language leaders’ debate from Ottawa, ON.

While the VP debate was not the anticipated train wreck, early on, I had a sense of things to come when Governor Palin, turning to Senator Biden said,”I may not answer the questions that either the moderator or you want to hear, but I'm going to talk straight to the American people and let them know my track record also."

And so it was.

While Palin’s handlers are to be commended for the job they did in the days leading up to the debate, it soon became obvious that she was not as well briefed on some things as others. Her record on the national energy issue was trotted out so often that it was becoming as tired of being presented as we were in hearing it – regardless of the questions proffered by the moderator, Gwen Ifill, whom, I do not believe did a particularly stellar job in handling Palin that evening.

Let’s get back to her just-plain-folks approach to this debate. If I were a middle-class American parent, I would be very resentful of Palin's comments regarding "Joe six-pack” and hockey moms. She is suggesting that only Mothers do the parenting thing with their children while the fathers sit at home drinking their beer. Fortunately, there are many families in America where both partners take parenting very seriously. Unfortunately for the NHL, but fortunately for the US and the rest of us, there are not enough hockey moms to get Governor Palin elected to office.

Do Americans really want a VP who will speak with world leaders using home-spun homilies and speeches loaded down with colloquialisms such as "you betcha", “we’re gonna”, “go get’em” and "doggone"? Oh, right, George W. – and he is President!

And, the Palin train really veered off the tracks when Palin suspended the debate for a few seconds to send a, “Shout out to the 3rd graders at Gladys Wood Elementary School…” Excuse me? Shout-outs to 3rd graders are performed by weathermen during the local news, not something that happens in a very important political debate. It was not at all endearing.

Let me present a scenario: what if Obama/Biden lost (note, I cannot bring my self to state McCain/Palin win)? McCain, shortly after assuming the Presidency, takes gravely ill and dies. VP Palin steps into the role as commander-in-chief. Stepping up to the podium for her first Presidential news conference, a switch is flicked in a backroom somewhere and the TelePrompTer in her glasses commences to run…

“Todd and I are just so gosh darn sorry that Senator, er, President McCain passed on. Heck, we were at Sniper’s, er, Piper’s soccer practice when me and Todd were told John had kicked the bucket! Anyhoo, my first order of business, I’m gonna get on the phone today and talk to that funny little man from North Korean, King John Eel, an’ I’m gonna tell him to just back off, buddy. No one likes a bully! Stop your new-cue-leer testin’ an’ such. Todd! Get me my Visine. I just can’t stop goldurn blinkin’ and winkin’!"

A possible heartbeat from doomsday. Anyone remember Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove?

Must we continue to reward mediocrity?

You have to know that when anything starts off “With all due respect…” you know that there’s going to be a zinger or two.

This entry definitely supports that position.

So, without further ado, here we go.

With all due respect to both Mr. David Peterson and Ms. Jagoda Pike, capable individuals in their own right, can these optimists really continue to put a glass-half-full spin on the latest attempt to bring a potentially economically debilitating world-class sporting event, the 2015 Pan American Games, to the region?

As Canadians, why do we continue to reward apparent mediocrity? Mr. Peterson, in his leadership role failed three times to bring major sporting extravaganzas to the area; Ms. Pike, two. In fairness, Peterson was one of the cast of “thousands” who were successful in bringing an NBA franchise to the city. Ms. Pike is a very well respected newspaper business executive with strong family values.

Some background for those unfamiliar with either individual.

Ms. Pike is publisher of the Toronto Star and president of Star Media Group. She is also an alumna of Trinity College in the University of Toronto and the Osgoode School of Law. Effective October 4, 2008, Ms. Pike will step down as publisher of the Toronto Star and assume the role of heading Ontario's bid for the 2015 Pan Am Games. Ms. Pike joined Torstar Corporation in 1986. During her tenure, Ms. Pike has held a broadly diverse portfolio of key leadership positions, affording her a unique perspective on all aspects of Torstar’s newspaper publishing operations. Fair enough.

David Robert Peterson, PC and QC was the twentieth Premier of the Province of Ontario, Canada, from June 26, 1985 to October 1, 1990. He was the first Liberal premier of Ontario in 42 years. On September 5, 1990, the day of a snap Provincial election, Peterson even lost his own seat, having been resoundingly defeated by NDP candidate Marion Boyd in London Centre by over 8,200 votes. It is almost unheard of for a provincial Premier to be unseated in his own riding. The loss ended Peterson's political career. He announced his resignation as Liberal leader on the night of the election, and formally resigned as premier on October 1, 1990. Going into the election, the Liberals stood at 50% support in the polls. Peterson himself had a 54% approval rating. There were, of course, mitigating circumstances that contributed to the downfall of Peterson’s government. Ironically, the party that came to power, the NDP, was led by Bob Rae – now a senior contender to the federal Liberal throne. Talk about bad timing all round. Peterson also was a previous leader in the failed charge to secure the Olympics for Toronto – on two separate occasions.

Is a successful bid the only thing that will bring much needed improvements to the regions, specifically Toronto's rapidly deteriorating infrastructure?

That being the case, as voters, should we not be doing more with our elected officials in both Ottawa and Queens Park where our tax dollars are controlled? Remember, there is a Federal election here in Canada on October 14.

Think of the overall cost in manpower and dollars behind this latest effort. At the moment, the numbers being thrown around to successfully mount this event are this: cost to all levels of government for all “known” construction, etc. is conservatively pegged at $1.77 billion. Published projections for the positive economic impact for the area are coming in at $2 billion and the creation of 17,000 jobs and may attract an estimated 250,000 tourists. Note to self: this is 2008; the Games are in 2015. Just how far off can all these estimates be at the end of the day? In truth, I am uncertain if these numbers are based upon today’s declining dollar values or a future rate. Remember, there is no mention of overruns, shortfalls and all the usual baggage associated with any capital project. Granted, much of those dollars may come from the private sector, but will this then escalate into a bidding war for naming rights on new facilities and improved transportation – for example, Suncor's Transit Commission, anyone?

Is it just me? At this time in a vicious downturn for this continent’s economic cycle, are there not better ways of investing dollars? Ms. Pike is quoted as saying, “Parents know that investment in sporting facilities is badly needed, especially if Ontario wants to nurture athletes of national and international calibre. If we're going to encourage kids to be active, you have to give them somewhere to be active in. You have to inspire them. You have to actually give them a place to be the best. My view is that you can't develop children without developing them both intellectually and physically. There's so much good that could come out of this."

Yeah, but… we have some pretty terrific facilities right now – and still we have many lethargic, obese kids sitting watching videos and updating their profiles on social networks – anything to avoid physical activity. How will this change? Is this not an issue for the examination of better parenting perhaps, not about domed velodromes?

To make it clear, I’m really not opposing this bid. I’m just asking folks to take a step back and examine just why this is so damned important at this time.