The Book Any Dumb Mummy Blogger Wishes She Could Write

I have just discovered a great book about mothering called Mommies Who Drink, by occasional actress Brett Paesel. It is the book that any Mummy Blogger, especially that dumb one we've been talking about, would kill to write. I predict we will see an attempt at a Canadian version of a book like this. And no, not the Dumb Mummy blogger sequel, but a book from someone who can actually write and who is intelligent and witty.

Mommies Who Drink is funny as hell, raunchy, profane, and pretty much describes most of my motherhood experiences and those of most of my friends with children as well. It's like the Sex Tips for Girls of mothering books. (If you are a woman and have never read Sex Tips, please, go out and find it now. You will laugh very, very hard.) I have a houseful of children and I won't deny that marijuana has occasionally stopped me from running away from home, sobbing, screaming and shrieking about how I can't stand the slavery anymore. So has alcohol. So have vivid sexual fantasies involving Ewan McGregor, Aaron Eckhart and Taye Diggs, and, of course, the actual deed with my calm and wise husband.

It's all there in Mommies Who Drink.

I can't wait for the HBO series!

Back by popular demand: Dumbest Mummy Blogger Ever

The dumbest Mummy blogger ever on the Belinda Stronach/Tie Domi affair:

Here's my problem with Belinda now. I kind of think she's not too smart. I mean, really. You know the dude is married. You know you're a public person. You know that, if you hang out with someone and walk hand in hand with them, it's going to raise eyebrows.

What was she thinking? I don't think she was. I actually think she didn't care. And that's what kind of disturbs me.

It also disturbs me because, for some reason, I think she likes the drama of it all. I don't think she's embarassed by this whole thing. I think Belinda likes seeing her face on the front page of the paper, no matter what the reason.

RTK frequent commenter, AnonymASS, on denial and the dumbest Mummy Blogger ever:

"Here's my problem with Belinda, er, Rebecca now. I kind of think she's not too smart. I mean, really. You know you are pregnant with the dude's child. You know you're a public person. You know that, if you hang out with someone and walk hand in hand with them, it's going to raise eyebrows.

What was she thinking? I don't think she was. I actually think she didn't care. And that's what kind of disturbs me.

It also disturbs me because, for some reason, I think she likes the drama of it all. I don't think she's embarassed by this whole thing. I think Belinda, er, Rebecca, likes seeing her face on the front page of the paper, er, New York press, no matter what the reason."

If you're a new reader and need the back story on the Dumbest Mummy Blogger ever, read it here. Also don't forget to check out all RTK's fabulous softwood lumber news.

Croc attack!

It's not only on escalators where your Crocs will come under attack!

RTK: A trusted source

For Lumber Jack News





Proud Canadians should rejoice in the fact that when people in India google "lumberjacks of Canada" they land at RTK, the number one source of information on Canadian lumberjacks and softwood lumber. Not to mention the valuable service we provide keeping the subcontinent up to date on our policy in nearby Afghanistan.

Update: We have had a second Indian vistor, this time from Hyderabad, looking for Lumber Jacks of Canada. Can anyone please inform Tearfree what's going on in India before this reaches Crocs/escalator crisis proportions?

This is a great headline...

...on a truly sad story.

Your fellow RTK readers

As long-time readers know, RTK regulars are a highly select bunch even if they don't boast on their blogs about the extravagant parties they throw. Lately, however, we've also had a lot of new readers coming to find out about Jan Wong and the Crocs escalator threat. And, like any popular blog, there's no denying that we've also attracted some sketchy characters along the way.



First, there was the porn site (see above and click for even more of an enlargement) that felt Teafree had something important to say about Quebec even before l'Affaire Jan Wong. And now, for some reason, we keep getting Google hits for "Jacy and MILF," a term Tearfree didn't even know before she started this blog. As it turns out, there's a famous porn star named Jacy, and then there was that whole arrest thing, so let's all just come clean. Jacy?! What's up?

RTK Children's Party Tips

Note for new visitors: If you're coming over from Parenting, welcome and be sure to check out our most popular Mom blog post ever while you're here.

So children’s parties are a hot topic lately. Andrea Gordon broached the subject most recently and then the blogger who claims only to write original thoughts despite all evidence to the contrary chimed in with news about her latest over-the-top exercise in one-upping in the Jones.

Now, Tearfree generally doesn’t like to pull rank but she grew up in the wealthiest part of Montreal. Her friends' and classmates' parents owned half of Westmount mountain, some of the most prominent retail outlets in the country, and, well yes, Seagram’s. She went to parties at the houses of the richest people in the country (even though her family was not at all rich) and none of them ever laid on or even dreamed of laying on this kind of event for a three-year-old. It would have been seen as horribly nouveau riche or gauche or, for those who prefer their expressions in the Queen’s language, social climbing or conspicuously consumerist.

So, Tearfree’s advice is don’t do anything so ridiculous. Instead, read her party history and try simply to learn from her successes and failures.

Tearfree’s party mom history.

Tearfree started planning the first birthday party the day her daughter was born. Dumb but true. She ran herself ragged baking brownies and lemon bars and Viennese cherry cake and making tea sandwiches and cutting up crudités. Bubbly (not the real thing but recommended by a German wine connoisseur who knew his Sekt was ordered.) While the guests seemed to have a good time, it was one of the worst parties Tearfree has ever attended. She didn’t get to talk to anyone for more than two seconds. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. Maybe she was, because the group photos from that first birthday party are great and look like they belong in Martha Stewart Living. If Tearfree ever gets them digitized, she’ll post them.

After that party, Tearfree swore off kids birthday parties for several years. At age two, her daughter was clueless so it made no difference. At age three, her daughter seemed kind of anxious about the whole birthday thing even though it was nothing more than a small family party. But by age 4, she wanted a party.

Tearfree hired a facepainter -- one facepainter recommended by her shrink who though it sould be a good low-stress idea for Tearfre. The kids loved it, except for the inevitable one child who hated face painting, and then they tore through the house like maniacs. Organizing Pin the Tail on the Donkey was next to impossible. Tearfree survived.

The next year we just did a regular party. Tearfree had five games planned for the two hour event. The kids played them all in 10 minutes. The Pinata turned out to have no candy in it because, non- Latinos that we are, no one knew that you actually have to add your own candy to the Pinata. Grandpa had to run to the corner store and buy chocolate bars to stuff it in a semi-secret operation when it was half destroyed.

The next year Tearfree went out and bought a book called something like Plan a Successful Children’s Birthday Party. She prepared 15 games and can, as a result, recommend that number as the minimum amount for a two-hour party still leaving time for cake.

The year after that, we took the gang swimming and back to the house for tacos, a party which turned out to be surprisingly unmemorable although Tearfree believes she might have suppressed unpleasant memories about an incident in the locker room.

The next year, Tearfree planned a mega event. It began with a rock-climbing session for the kids and ended up back at the house with a Sunday lunch party for children and parents. An unemployed friend of Tearfree’s who happens to be a great cook did the food and called in her sons to help out with the serving and cleaning up. The kids were old enough to run crazy and the parents all had a great time catching up on Shakhira’s and Avril Lavigne’s first CDs while the radical lesbian feminists handed out organic cigarettes.

The only drawback was the kids felt the adults got in their way so next year it was slumber party time and lots of Beyonce’s Crazy in Love, so much in fact that the neighbours complained despite the fact they had held a Beatles singalong the previous weekend, but that’s a whole other blog post.

The year after was an appalling arcade party with truly bad food served on-site as part of a package deal. The kids loved it and all Tearfree had to do was show up and drink beer.

And, finally, last year it was an adventure centre, at which our party had a good time but was very definitely at the upper age limit.

This year is still up in the air although Tearfree’s daughter is lobbying for a nail salon, an idea which makes Tearfree just a little bit nervous after the letter to the editor she read from the doctor complaining about hygienic conditions in nail bars.

So, please, dear readers, anyone with suggestions for birthday number 12, please let Tearfree know, but remember we have a puppy and Tearfree would like to make this as easy on herself as possible.

Tearfree oughtta be in pictures

Disney's caught on to her star potential. Check out nos. 9, 11 and 14.

My Children Have Bad Case of September-itis

I hate September. Yes, the weather is often lovely -- clear, mild sunny days, warm rainy nights. But my children, as they do every year, have a scorching case of September-itis, also known as chronic brain-cramp-ism and/or dumb-arse-ness. I would -- and have -- described it in more politically incorrect terms, but I don't want to offend anyone.

In the past few days, one child forgot pretty much everything she needs for school and work, including her Metropass, her work schedule, her cellphone, her permission forms for field hockey. This meant I was a half hour late for work as I made a detour to drop off the stuff. My son was allowed to retake a math test that he didn't do so well on but forgot to bring home the marked-up and corrected test to study from, meaning he'll probably get the same mediocre mark today that he got last week. Another daughter forgot her eyeglasses next to her bed, requiring another emergency run to her school. Another son forgot a crucial slip of paper that would allow him to switch a course -- again, meaning his father had to get it to the school pronto.

It's the same every September. After two months out of school, the four children are reduced to drooling dumbarses on every front. They are about as incapable of organizing themselves as I am of understanding why Paris Hilton is a celebrity.

I am close to laying down this rule: we have bailed you each out once in terms of things you've forgotten and need urgently. We will not bail you out again. You forget stuff, you deal with the consequences. Is that too harsh? I am thinking it's not.

I can't wait for October when they manage to remember to take to school all the basic materials/forms/permission slips/sports equipment necessary to get through the day.

Hardly surprising...

... that such a site exists.

Unreliable narrators

In fiction there is a device known as the unreliable narrator. Literature students constantly pose and are posed the question of whether a given narrator is reliable or not.

In real life, the question doesn’t always go over quite as well as in the seminar room. Sure, people are happy to call George Bush a liar and Alfonse Gagliano a crook, but for some reason, they seem to be a whole lot more reluctant to call Monique Lepine, mother of Marc, an unreliable narrator.

And yet this account of the first interview she has granted in the 17 years since the Polytechnique massacre would seem to suggest that she is the ultimate unreliable narrator. She relates above all to the mother of the Dawson killer:

"I thought of the suffering she endured. I thought of the pain she endured," Lepine said of Gill's mother Parvinder Sandhu. "She isn't a victim in the eyes of the law. She's the mother of a criminal."

Lepine, 67, recalled how on the night of the Polytechnique shooting, when the gunman's identity was not yet known, she went to a prayer meeting.

"I asked to pray for the mother of that young man, without knowing it was me," the retired nurse told TVA.

I think a shrink would have a field day with the subconscious thoughts going on there and the fact that, according to CTV, “both Lepine and Gill's mother say they had no idea of their sons bloody plans.” Hmm, no idea but somehow your first thoughts go out the mother of the killer. That strikes Tearfree as more than just a little peculiar.

Yesterday's storm

The fierce winds blew down trees and hydro wires and were followed up by a rainbow.

Is Jan Wong cartoon "racist"?

Update: Here's the Le Devoir cartoon plus Chapleau's La Presse cartoon. The caption on the latter reads (in translation): Jan Wong analyzes the situation in Afghanistan. "Goddam Bill 101." Click on the image for an enlargement.

Tearfree just heard the humourless and pompous fill-in host, Tim DeBoise (sp?), of CBC Montreal's morning radio show interview Jan Wong.

Her line now is that the backlash against her is racist as evidenced by a cartoon, which appeared Friday in Le Devoir and which, interestingly enough, DeBoise (sp?) recommended his listeners take a look at, not because he found it offensive but because he found it amusing. Well click here, scroll down and make your own decision.

Globe’s graceless apology

Tearfree can’t decide whether the graceless apology of The Globe and Mail’s editor-in-chief, published Saturday, will make l’affaire Jan Wong go away or not.

As André Pratte of La Presse pointed out on Friday before the Globe's EIC, Edward Greenspon, climbed down, the action that was needed was a quick and genuine apology along the lines of, “We regret the great big fucking mistake we made and we understand why people are upset.” Instead the Globe waffled on in an editorial about asking “provocative” questions while, in person, Globe higher-ups were overheard by Tearfree’s Toronto sources saying Wong was “brave.”

Well, Tearfree would like to point out that brave is not synonymous with dumb, unfounded, or deliberately provocative. And just because you write something that makes people mad, doesn’t make you brave. In some cases, like this one, it simply makes you offensive and idiotic.

Remember those Venn Diagrams from high school math?


In this case: A= articles that piss people off for a variety of reasons, B= articles that are brave, C=articles that piss people off and are brave not merely idiotic or insulting. The Jan Wong article goes into category A not C.

The Globe’s apology consists of saying Wong’s opinions should have been marked “opinion” but that doesn’t exactly cover it. There’s a certain vetting of the Opinions page at the Globe and it requires that even opinion articles live up to certain standards – and Jan Wong’s opinion of why the Dawson shootings might have taken place doesn’t meet the standards of an opinion piece.

For example, one could argue too that since the three shooters Wong mentioned were all immigrants or kids of immigrants, immigration was to blame. Or since the shootings all took place at institutions of higher education with a view of the mountain that geographical location played a key role. Or that since the shooters all opted for such a particularly North American style of crime – the mass public shooting – that Quebec’s immigrants and second generation immigrants are strikingly well integrated into Quebec society. Would any of those theses get published in the Globe? No.

Why? Because they’re dumb just like Wong’s was. While Wong and others are entitled to their dumb opinions and to express them at the pub, on their blogs, or wherever, Globe editors are supposed to ensure that the opinions they publish meet certain criteria and are backed up by facts, especially if they are provocative.

As for Greenspon’s claim that the reaction was disproportionate, no doubt it seemed that way to him since he doesn’t yet seem to understand how insulting Wong’s remarks and the Globe’s subsequent defense of them were. It is also somewhat disingenuous to bring up the verbal attacks on Wong and her family, given that columnists with controversial opinions are frequently attacked on personal grounds. It’s neither pretty nor defensible but it comes with the territory.

Finally, in his letter, Greenspon praises Wong as an excellent reporter, which raises the question of what exactly constitutes excellency in reporting, given that this was a screw-up on a grand scale for someone with Wong's experience. This whole episode also calls into question Greenspon’s capabilities given that he made the wrong judgment call on a very sensitive issue and then proceeded to make things worse.

While, a few angry Quebecers have already cancelled their subscriptions to the Globe (see La Presse Friday) and others are calling for a boycott of its parent company, Bell Canada, the resulting damage to the Globe will likely be more to its credibility than its finances.

People Tearfree spoke to about this issue were genuinely disappointed with the Globe for perpetrating the stereotype of the backward racist Quebecer. The newspaper’s reputation has been sorely and justly damaged in the same way that Jacques Parizeau’s reputation was damaged after his nasty referendum night speech.

Quebecers hate the idea so prevalent in Toronto media circles, and even in much of Anglo Quebec, that this province is or even used to be a racist/discriminatory place. It’s a particularly pernicious theory given that it is founded on very little and yet despite that, claims many faithful adherents.

An acquaintance told Tearfree last week that she was recently at a restaurant where a member of another party arrived dressed in blackface and that “would never happen elsewhere.” She said this with complete conviction despite the fact that she’s never lived anywhere else, apart from a few months in London.

Now, as regular readers know, Tearfree is hardly poitically correct and has laughed at the follies of Quebec nationalists on many an occasion, including this one (which got her booted off a Wikipedia page for being anti-Quebec), but she ust don’t buy this “Quebec is more racist” stuff. Based on what?

And no, Tearfree is not denying the history on anti-Semitism here or the fact that French schools used to regularly turn away immigrant children before the powers-that-be realized that that formula was short-term gain for long-term pain, and passed a law obliging immigrants' kids to go to French schools.

Tearfree thinks portions of the sign law are ridiculous and is sure the French-in-the-workplace laws are a pain in the butt for business owners. They were a pain for her when Banana Republic wasn’t here because the whole French labeling thing was way too complicated for them. And if that’s what’s keeping Whole Foods away, well, that’s a big pain too, but Tearfree can live with it (at least for now). The language laws served a purpose – and they have worked. Quebec, today, is thriving.

It should be remembered too that the recent narrative about the racist xenophobic Quebecer replaced the earlier “White Niggers of America” narrative about the victimized oppressed Quebecer exploited by evil Anglos. Certainly, both narratives have elements of truth but both are also far from the whole truth.

By printing what it did and subsequently defending it by claiming Wong raised provocative questions, the Globe has done itself serious damage. It’s a far cry from the days, before Denis Lortie shot up the National Assembly in Quebec City, when the public could just walk into the parliamentary restaurant for a bargain lunch. Tearfree would occasionally spot Jacques Parizeau, then the finance minister, eating lunch alone and reading the Report on Business section of Canada’s “national newspaper.” She used to think it would make a great advertisement for The Globe and Mail. Alas, no more.

----------------------
Interesting related post at Paper Dynamite about the problems of young Quebec men

Cute puppy eats telephone wire

Were we wrong not to opt for crate training?

A Half-Hour of Urban Tension

I have been riding the Toronto transit system regularly since I was 10 years old. For awhile there, until I started walking to work, I knew most of the streetcar drivers on my route well enough to chat with them every morning if the car was empty. Today I experienced something I have never experienced before -- a nasty, really nasty, needs-anger-management-quickly kind of nasty, streetcar driver.

It's mid-afternoon on a Friday, not too busy yet, and the streetcar is filled with people from the financial district who all seem happy to have been sprung from work early. Traffic is sparse. People are chatting. The streetcar is only half-full.

The streetcar stops at a point where two busy downtown streets merge, however, and doesn't move for 1o minutes, despite there having been many opportunities for the driver to move ahead. When a businessman walks to the front of the car and asks the driver if there's a problem, and why aren't we moving, the driver got all macho. A very big guy, he gets out of the driver's seat and menacingly sort of chases the businessman back to his seat, saying over and over again: "Are you telling me how to do my job?? Are you telling me how to do my job???" Soon the streetcar erupts with people telling him to please get back in his seat and drive the streetcar, and this just enrages him further, and he starts yelling at all of us not to tell him how to do his job, why don't you call my supervisor if you don't like it, who the hell do you people think you are -- it got quite menacing. People were starting to ask to get off the streetcar so they could hail cabs the rest of the way home.

The driver then returned to his seat and sat there petulantly, refusing to drive the streetcar, for about 20 minutes. There were about six or seven streetcars piled up behind him, unable to move, and the drivers of those streetcars came to the driver's window and asked him what was going on. Nothing was going on. The guy had an on-the-job temper tantrum, held up traffic and peoples' lives for about 30 minutes due to his own macho insecurities, and should be fired. I'd have been fired from my job -- or made to go into serious anger management -- if I'd ever had a half-hour on-the-job tantrum and refused to provide paying customers with the service they paid for. I issued a complaint and I bet I never hear a word from anyone at the TTC ever again.

Crocs escalator warning

SEPT 18, 2007 UPDATE: READ THE CRAZIEST CROCS STORY EVER, A LAWSUIT GONE WILD. CLICK HERE.

Update: Check out these links for info on the Singapore Crocs attack and the company response to the nasty publicity.

Because RTK is well known for its investigative reporting on Croc sandals, the Gifted Typist tipped Tearfree off last week to an emerging Crocs health hazard. Unfortunately, Tearfree was so busy keeping track of Jan Wong she didn't have time to check it out. Since then it seems the story has exploded and a flood of visitors are coming to RTK seeking information.





Finally, Tearfree would like to note that as our resident shoe expert, anonymASS , recently pointed out, when it comes to footwear, comfort isn't everything. Stay tuned for the Crocs vs. Stilletos smackdown.

Jan Wong To-Do List

Tearfree has a suggestion for Jan Wong and the Globe editors. In the interests of national unity, everyone should chill out tonight and watch the season premiere of CSI, featuring a murder behind the scenes at a Cirque du Soleil performance in Las Vegas. As an added bonus, the show will feature none other that Mr. Britney Spears, Kevin Federline, playing a Cirque dancer. Let's just all hope that the murderer doesn't turn out to be an allophone Quebecer alienated by Bill 101.

Then tomorrow, Jan can, as a commenter suggested, go for lunch with Stephen Harper and Jean Charest and write it up for the paper just like the good old days.

Add your suggestions for Jan's To Do List.

Jan Wong cont’d: Globe totally doesn’t get it

Sunday Sept. 24 update

Tearfree predicts that the editorial in today’s Globe and Mail is just going to make this situation worse. Instead of admitting they were WRONG, WRONG, WRONG, Globe editors have gone into full ass-covering mode and, in so doing, have perpetrated all sorts of unflattering stereotypes about Quebec.

They’re saying that Jan Wong’s Dawson article raised “provocative” questions. Well, it certainly raised questions (mostly about Wong’s and the editors’ judgment) but Tearfree would not use the word provocative to describe them. They were ridiculous, offensive questions, the answers to which shed no light. Usually when that happens, the story doesn’t run or if it does, someone resigns or, at the very least, lands in deep doodoo. For example, one can argue, as the former CBC chairman might, that it’s “provocative” to ask if Lebanese men make a habit of having sex with goats. But if the answer is NO, then you don’t write about it in a major publication. Everyone can ask stupid offensive questions, but that doesn’t make them print-worthy in the country’s national newspaper. They become print-worthy only if and when the answers are enlightening.

Today’s Globe editorial has made a bad situation worse by referring to Jacques Parizeau’s infamous referendum night speech, which was indeed appalling, as if it reflected popular opinion in Quebec. Parizeau may not ever have admitted it, but he essentially had to resign over that speech, which was rebuked by everyone important here. Sure, some people didn’t get why it was so offensive (and still don’t), but it appears that a large number of the Globe’s top editors don’t get why Jan Wong’s article was so offensive.

That explains why the editors can't see either why today’s editorial is simply going to make things worse. Even its concession that the “strongly held view (about the Wong article) is that the portrayal was an inaccurate depiction of contemporary Quebec” implies that it’s an accurate description of the “Quebec of yesteryear,” which appears to exist in the minds of Globe editors as some racist backwater

Well, Tearfree has always had a problem with that analysis. Sure Quebec has an anti-semitic history that it should not be proud of but so does Canada. If you go to Montreal’s Holocaust Museum you can see the documents signed by federal government officials refusing boatloads of Jewish refugees. And, yes when Tearfree grew up deep in the heart of anglo Montreal, there were people who didn’t like non-francos just like in Toronto there were people who didn’t like Poles and Italians and whoever else, including maybe a few francos. (Not to mention a lot of Montreal anglos with nothing good to say about francos.)

Tearfree would also happily admit that English Canada was quicker to embrace the politics of inclusion. Black cops and Asian bus drivers were a regular sight in Toronto a decade before they arrived in Montreal, but that’s not because Quebec is “more racist,” ( and how exactly does one authoritatively establish degrees of societal racism?), it’s just because certain things, like affirmative action and California cuisine, have always taken longer to get here thanks to language differences.

Today’s Globe editorial argument can be summed up as " Quebec used to be a racist exclusionary place so Jan Wong was right to ask if that racism and exclusiveness is responsible for the school shootings there." It’s a “have you stopped beating your wife” question and it’s not going to go over well. In fact, it's going to make this situation a lot worse.

Update: Interesting opinions on l'affaire Jan Wong

• Maclean's columnist Paul Wells
• Gazette columnist Don MacPherson (Norman Spector has key portions of the column which isn't accessible at The Gazette site. Scroll down to see it.)
• Journal de Montreal blogger and reporter Patrick Lagacé has a great title on his post. The former's English, the latter's French.

One good thing about Jan Wong's article

As a teacher, I can at least appreciate this passage about what happened to a Dawson teacher that day:

At 1:49 p.m., an e-mail popped up from one of her students. "Miss," it read. "They're shooting. Do we still have the 2 p.m. class?"

Et vous, M. Harper?

Wow, I would not want to be Jan Wong today. Now, following on the heels of Premier Jean Charest, the PM has called her article "patently absurd."

Texts of the Harper and Charest letters can be found here.

Where do Tearfree's umbrellas go?

There's rain in the forecast and Tearfree has just lost her latest umbrella, one she owned for almost three weeks, which is about the average time any umbrella spends in her care. The latest was cheap and from the local Uniprix but it was special because this time around, Tearfree decided to try the new no-drip model and surprise, surprise, it worked. Yes, the cup-shaped plastic container on the tip looked kind of goofy but that was a small price to pay for the convenience.

Where is the inventor of this fabulous device? And how can we sing his or her praises?

Quebec Premier mad at Jan Wong

Jean Charest wants an apology for that now infamous article. I'm not surprised.

Update: André Pratte, editorial pages editor of La Presse, discusses the Wong article in today's Globe.

Here's the entire Charest letter.

Dawson shootings

"My heart is heavy today as I consider the many factors that may have come into play to turn a gentle, tender hearted young man into a cold blooded killer in all of less than five years. This tragedy speaks volumes for today’s Society."

Click on the link and scroll down to read the first comment. I am inclined to believe this woman saw what she wanted to see, but decide for yourself.

Enough apologies

I've mentioned Anne Applebaum before. I often agree with her and this time around I like what she has to say about the pope and muslims.

I'm really annoyed by the all the tsk, tsking and how-could-he-be-so-insensitive stuff I've been hearing on the CBC, particularly since all the newly minted anti-blasphemy types aren't exactly models of sensitivity themselves when it comes to southern Baptists or evangelicals.

I'm all for criticizing religions and given all the damage that's been done in their name, I'm not sure why we're all supposed to walk on eggshells on this topic. Now it's true that I'm not going to go out of my way and deliberately insult and offend people for their faith, but as the old shibboleth goes you don't need free speech laws to cover the stuff that's not petentially offensive, you need them for the speech that offends people.

Welcome synchro swim fans

Thanks to last weekend’s FINA Synchronized Swimming World Cup 2006, RTK has had a huge influx of visitors seeking info on synchro swimming. Regular readers know that Tearfree, a former synchro swim mom, and Tearfree’s daughter, a former synchro swimmer, have blogged extensively about the pros and cons of this sport in the past, so much so that RTK is officially listed as a quality source of synchro info in Wikipedia.

So, what’s new? While Tearfree’s daughter decided not to return to the synchro pool this year, her best friend and synchro gal pal has been trying out for a spot on a much more advanced team. Apparently, the try-outs have been grueling and had her “crying into her goggles” during one particularly strenuous underwater laps session.

If she does make the team she’ll be practicing three days a week including one five-hour session on the weekend. Tearfree listened in combined horror and relief as the girl’s Mom filled her in on the details at a weekend brunch. Since this was the Mom that got the girls into synchro in the first place, causing Tearfree to have to spend many a winter weekend sweating on swimming pool bleachers, she’ll admit that she did feel just a little tinge of schadenfreude over the current situation. But since Tearfree actually likes this Mom, in spite of the fact that she was responsible for getting the girls into synchro and, since the mom’s ex-husband gives her even more grief about introducing the girls to synchro than Tearfree, Tearfree decided to extend the hand of sympathy.

“Wow,” she said, “that’s a tough choice.” And actually it is. Because once you quit synchro, that’s it. It’s all over. You can’t do recreational synchro like you can hockey or running or dance. No, synchro is an all or nothing sport. You’re in or you’re out, which is kind of sad after you’ve just given over a few years to the sport and a few months to washing gelatine out of your hair.

Oh sure, you can do pool party tricks or, if you’re supremely talented, join the Cirque du Soleil’s O show, but apart from that your synchro life is over, nothing more than a photo collection and some Synchro Gala DVDs, which at some point we’ll see if we can’t upload onto RTK.

Jan Wong Dawson Debacle

Scroll down and read the comments. In all fairness, I would like to say that when I read the reader reaction at the Globe and Mail site it was overwhelmingly negative toward this article.

And no, I don't think one article, as idiotic as it may be, is grounds for independence.

(Thanks to anonymous for the URL)

Smoking......It's your right

On the cover of the local newspaper there are 2 gents proudly smoking in a public place, a pub, that they have specifically opened so that patrons can enjoy smoking while sitting at their table with friends and a cold beer.

For our non-Canadian readers, It is illegal certainly in Ontario and I think most of Canada to smoke in indoor public places. This includes restaurants, place of work, bars, etc.,. The law is clear, but as usual these guys believe they have found some loop hole worth exploiting.

Every day there is an update from Smiths Falls on these 2 and their defiance. Media tell us that authorities have yet to act and we get snipits or comments from local authorities but no action.

I think they should be allowed to stay open only if anybody who enters also surrenders their health card and immediately has to pay for health care for the rest of their shorter than expected life. It would not be long after that before insurance companies started canceling life insurance policies as well.

I am all for individual rights and freedoms.....only if I don't end up paying for them.

bayl

Jan Wong's appalling analysis of the Dawson shootings

Update, May 24, 2007: So whatever became of Jan Wong after this whole Dawspn affair (detailed below played itself out? The answer or part of it is here.
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I honestly haven't seen such a repugnant analysis of Quebec news since Jacques Parizeau's despicable referendum night comments.

In an article that's supposed to be a reconstruction of what happened at Dawson, Jan Wong essentially blames this week's shootings, the Montreal masscre of 1989, and a 1992 Concordia mass murder on all three killers' marginalization in Quebec society. Sure, there's a disclaimer about the different shooters being "mentally disturbed," which seems rather mild to say the least, but there's not a word said about the parents, childhoods or family lives that created these killers.

I, for one, am willing to bet that those nice normal parents of Kimveer Gill's, as described in the earliest neighbour and acquaintance interviews with media, will be shown in the very near future to be not quite so nice and normal as they've so far been made out to be. It's a story we've seen too many times before, the clueless neighbours who see nothing but a normal guy versus the ones who knew something was seriously wrong.

Jan Wong's analysis also can't explain why if Quebec is so exclusionary, the names of the Montreal General Hospital doctors in charge of treating the injured were, Dr Tarek Razek, Chief of Trauma and Dr Karine-Josee Igartua (psychiatry.) Those names aren't exactly pures laines. And neither were the names of the dead and injured.

I find it hard to believe this piece of "journalism" got past the editors of the Globe and Mail and predict they will be answering for it in the days and weeks and months to come.

Read for yourselves:

This week, Montrealers were asking: Why us? Youths elsewhere in Canada are addicted to violent video games. Youths elsewhere in Canada live in soul-less suburbs. Youths elsewhere are alienated and into Goth culture. Yet while there have been similar high-school tragedies, all three rampages at Canadian postsecondary institutions occurred here, not in Toronto, or Vancouver or Halifax or Calgary.

"A lot of people are saying: Why does this always happen in Quebec?" says Jay Bryan, a business columnist for the Montreal Gazette, the city's only English-language daily. "Three doesn't mean anything. But three out of three in Quebec means something."

What many outsiders don't realize is how alienating the decades-long linguistic struggle has been in the once-cosmopolitan city. It hasn't just taken a toll on long-time anglophones, it's affected immigrants, too. To be sure, the shootings in all three cases were carried out by mentally disturbed individuals. But what is also true is that in all three cases, the perpetrator was not pure laine, the argot for a "pure" francophone. Elsewhere, to talk of racial "purity" is repugnant. Not in Quebec.

In 1989, Marc Lepine shot and killed 14 women and wounded 13 others at the University of Montreal's École Polytechnique. He was a francophone, but in the eyes of pure laine Quebeckers, he was not one of them, and would never be. He was only half French-Canadian. He was also half Algerian, a Muslim, and his name was Gamil Gharbi. Seven years earlier, after the Canadian Armed Forces rejected his application under that name, he legally changed his name to Marc Lepine.

Valery Fabrikant, an engineering professor, was an immigrant from Russia. In 1992, he shot four colleagues and wounded one other at Concordia University's faculty of engineering after learning he would not be granted tenure.

This week's killer, Kimveer Gill, was, like Marc Lepine, Canadian-born and 25. On his blog, he described himself as of "Indian" origin. (In their press conference, however, the police repeatedly referred to Mr. Gill as of "Canadian" origin.)

It isn't known when Mr. Gill's family arrived in Canada. But he attended English elementary and high schools in Montreal. That means he wasn't a first-generation Canadian. Under the restrictions of Bill 101, the province's infamous language law, that means at least one of his parents must have been educated in English elementary or high schools in Canada.

To be sure, Mr. Lepine hated women, Mr. Fabrikant hated his engineering colleagues and Mr. Gill hated everyone. But all of them had been marginalized, in a society that valued pure laine.

Update: It looks like the proverbial shit is starting to hit the proverbial fan over Jan Wong's column. I wouldn't want to be the editor who let that one through.

FURTHER UPDATE: In all fairness, I would like to say that when I read the reader reaction at the Globe and Mail site it was overwhelmingly negative toward this article.

And no, I don't think one article, as idiotic as it may be, is grounds for independence.

Tormented again

I don't know why I do this to myself, but I have recently returned to staring at, the now cheaper than the beginning of the season, boats again.

I even added to the torment by taking a trip to a marina to check one out. I took some pictures, saw the boat was in desperate need of some TLC and went to work with fantasies of cruising the 1000 Islands next year on it after a "little" touch up.

Then my wife saw the pictures and the reality hit.

At -409$ in the bank, one of my major stocks in the toilet, a job that has no clear future, 10 payments owing to Sears for renovations on a house I no longer own, and 32 payments left on a car, I can't believe I even went to the marina.

I guess I am the sort of person that needs big changes to be happy. Those changes can manifest itself in different ways for me. Changes like buying something big (i.e. a boat), or renovating the house in a big way or cutting a big tree down. Something that has big changes give me the sense my life is moving forward.

It is borderline insanity to rationalize a boat purchase at this time in light of the current situation and yet I know if RTK does not have some form of mental stimulation happening I will drift over to the net and see what kind of deal I can get.......in the undetermined future of course!

bayl

Kitty Cat Blogging

I say this with some fear of the reaction that will ensue: I have three cats. It didn't start out that way. We had just two, to keep one another company. Then an old homeless gentleman showed up, half-blind, obviously at least 15 years old, and clearly some old lady's lap cat who got turfed out, I imagine, when she died or went into the old age home. All he does is eat and sleep, he is completely low-maintenance, so I don't even really count him in the grand total. So really, I have two active cats.

One, Wilbur, is very smart and savvy. He can take care of himself. He goes out and I rarely worry about him. He avoids roads, hangs out in the backyards of our quiet neighbourhood, and is the king of the local cat community. He fights no one yet they all defer to him. And when I call him, he comes running like a dog.

The other, Coco, is not so smart. She goes out, but only for half-hour spurts here and there. She gets panicky if she comes to the door and no one lets her in right away. She has just learned that despite the bell on her collar, she can catch sparrows. And keeps bringing them into the house to show me -- while they're still alive. I pry her jaws open and they fly away.

The other morning, Coco went out and didn't return. All day long the kids and I called her and called her, wandered the backyards looking for her, completely freaked out because she's never gone for more than a half-hour. I put up notices. I wept. I cursed myself for ever letting her go outside and for assuming she was as smart as Wilbur. I shook the treat bag. I envisioned her dying under someone's verandah somewhere after being hit by a car. I wept some more. I wandered again. I asked the neighbours, who all love her. I wept again. I shook the catnip container.

Where did I find her, finally? Sitting way up high under a neighbour's third-floor deck, about a metre away from a bank of sparrow nests' in the ivy climbing up the side of their house, but unable to go Spiderman and climb the wall to get at the sparrows. She was quivering with delight and frustration, and had been there for 12 hours, apparently certain that at some point, one of those sparrows would fly within paw's reach.

Cats.

Don't let anyone tell you they are not any bit as entertaining and ridiculous as dogs.

Where is Jacy?

She has four kids and it's hectic back-to-school-and-all-the-other-activities time so Tearfree figured she must just be very busy, but then she saw that someone from Colorado googled the following to get to RTK. Hmmm, what do you all think?

The day after

It's a very rainy depressing day in Montreal today. Almost everyone on the metro and buses seemed pretty low. As someone with an overactive imagination, I always find myself scrutinizing people after events like these. When a teenage boy with a spiked leather collar and big black boots walked into the orthodontist's office just as I was dropping my daughter off, I stuck around to make sure the receptionist knew him, which she did, and then ranted to myself about what kind of idiot dresses like that on a day like today. I felt way more sympathetic to the man in the black trench coat on the Metro, who was probably wearing the only rain gear he had. A few minutes later while riding up the escalator to exit the metro, I was made very angry by a young guy in front of me, who was making loud moaning noises and causing alarm to everyone around him. He was clearly not in pain but rather in need of attention.

The names of the injured have not yet been released, and I'm stopping myself, perhaps wrongly, from phoning my friends whose kids go to Dawson. I'm counting on statistics and the laws of probability and figuring that in the unlikely event that they were affected, the last thing they need is a call from me. I know that if the news is bad I'll hear soon enough.

Probably because I'm English and Montreal was still very much a city of two solitudes when I grew up, I had no connections to the women killed in the Montreal massacre of 1989. An old friend of mine, whose son now attends Dawson, was, however, on Marc Lepine's list of women he hated and who, as he wrote back then, "nearly died today. The lack of time (because I started too late) has allowed those radical feminists to survive."

My friend found out she was on the list when La Presse published it, a colleague of her father's saw her name and phoned him up, and he, in turn, phoned my friend.

So I'm counting on the world being a big place this time around even when I know what a small one it can be, and that my big world will, alas, be someone else's small one.

Update: This John Ibbitson column in the Globe is worth reading.

Senseless, senseless, senseless

What will the killer's story be?

My neighbour works at Dawson. A number of my friends' children go there. My students almost all know people there. I heard the news today from a colleague whose daughter studies there and was still waiting to hear from her.

What a horrible day.

Update: Who he is.

While we wait to hear the names of the dead and injured, I keep telling myself 10,000 students, 10,000, it's not likely to be someone you know. But of course statisitical probability makes no difference to the dead and injured and their families and friends. It's still impossible to take comfort from the numbers.

Work DOES come home with you.

I have been in denial for my entire working life.

When I was self-employed my friends would ask me how I could stand the pressure of having to work 80-100 hours a week and still stay in a good mood. My response was always "No big deal, I am used to it."

I failed to notice I was a workaholic and border line alcoholic. A large percentage of the money made was going into "entertainment" or stupid money-losing business adventures with partners who did not have the same values as me.

Thankfully after 10 years of personal destruction I met my wife and then I had something else to focus my energies, at least the drinking energies. I remained a dedicated workaholic, believing that if I was working there was money coming in to the house.

I failed to notice that both my wife and I were burning out because there was never any down time. All activities had to be crammed into a 36-48 hour period and then I was gone again. This also meant my wife never had any time to herself. It was either me or the kids and that is unfair.

Two years ago I sold my business, paid off all debt and started working for an enormous successful worldwide company 5 sometimes 6 days a week. The upside to this was home every night. The downside was working with team members that literally slept at their desk (once we had to ask him to stop snoring because he was just too loud), answering to a boss who suffered from Napoleon Syndrome, and paying over 40% tax rate. Life was good.

I failed to notice the knot in my stomach as I left work everyday (late-sometimes by 3 hours), my cynicism on pretty much any subject discussed and the feeling that at age almost 40 I should command a greater salary, compared to my friends of the same age.

I am now working in a so-so job. Recently there has been a corporate shake-down, layoffs and there is a possibility that the most useless manager in history will be coming back after the summer off for "sick leave". In addition we are not enjoying good cash flow at home and the township tax bill just got here.

This time I noticed.

Unfortunately I can't do anything about it immediately except blog at home!

bayl

Who knew?

That you google "anti-swearing" and get RTK?

What would Tearfree do without invasive technology?

And what would her readers do if she didn't give them up-to-date reports on the blog-reading company they keep? Here, in a pointed demonstration of parallel universe theory, are just two of today's referrals selected for the juxtaposition of contrasting interests.

Signed, sealed, delivered

It's yours, Canada. And good luck collecting those tariffs that should never have been charged, everyone. Tearfree will have a detailed member-by-member account of next week's parliamentary vote.

Is it just me?

Or does the rest of the world find it incredibly difficult to shop on line if you don't know the retailer you want to buy from? For example, I wanted to buy a Philips PET 724 portable DVD player, but had no idea who sold it. Finding out online was impossible. I gave up after almost an hour of fruitless googling and proceeded to phone the first of 10 800 numbers where I would be put on hold. I eventually found a real human being who worked here in Quebec (not in a call centre) and who went and found out for me by asking his colleague in the next office. The answer was Costco and, nope, I couldn't buy it online. Nor could I buy it offline because it was sold out, not to mention I don't have a Costco membership.

I find the only way to shop on line is if you start with the retailer and please don't even get me started on Ebay. It strikes me as being a hobby just like going to garage sales.

If I'm missing something here, please let me know. Or feel free to agree with me if you've faced the same problems.

More goodwill hunting

Yesterday Tearfree posted about how it's a myth that there was all sorts of goodwill toward the U.S. after 9/11. She quoted an Anne Applebaum column. Today Anne Applebaum quotes herself as she also deals with the goodwill myth and the narratives it props up. Are you listening Michael Enright?

Almost caught up

CROCS NEWS SEEKERS: PLEASE GO TO THIS POST FOR THE LATEST ON THE ESCALATOR HEALTH SCARE

Tearfree has just had two jam-packed weeks, but things are starting to calm down and regular blogging will start up again later this week when she shows you her new boots along with the long-promised photos of the new puppy dog. There will also be plenty of value judgments and the latest news on Crocs, softwood lumber, Jack Bauer, Dr. O. and more.

In the mean time, does Tearfree need to worry about this. Or should she just buy new shoes and forget about it?

More Praying while Flying

Last week, RTK commented on the case of an Orthodox Jewish man booted off an air Canada flight for praying. This week, it's a Muslim thrown off a United Airlines flight for alleged weird praying habits.

That's what happened [to Dr Ahmed Farooq] last month, after a fellow passenger complained that [he] was trying to "control the aisles" when he exchanged seats to pray next to a window. The accusation meant Dr. Farooq - who was returning to Winnipeg from a physics course in Sacramento - was marooned at his own expense in Denver for a day.

"Why should I be taken off a plane just because I'm a certain religion?" said Dr. Farooq, 27, who immigrated to Canada when he was 12. "I have seen people take out their Bibles to pray. But if I had taken out a Koran in the environment there is now, it would have created fear."

As Tearfree recommended, just keep your praying to yourself.

Five years after

On CBC Radio yesterday, I heard Michael Enright talking about the immense sympathy the United States had after September 11. There was only one problem, namely that’s not the way I remember it at all.

Has Michael Enright forgotten the CBC news department’s September 19, 2001 Town Hall, which earned its own section in the annual ombudsman’s report due to its overwhelmingly anti-American sentiment? Or did he never read any of the many stories like this September 16 account by Anne Applebaum, a member of the Washington Post editorial board who lived in Europe at the time?

Or how about the notorious “They can't see why they are hated” commentary published in The Guardian September 13th – and yes that would be September 13, 2001, two days after September 11. And if you think it generated a negative reaction think again: it seems it resonated with most Guardian readers.

The only reason Enright and so many others have convinced themselves there was an enormous outpouring of good will toward the United States after September 11 is because it fits with the narrative they tell themselves even if it bears little resemblance to reality.

If you're fed up with this narrative, then I have collected some posts for you to read . So,
if you've had it with apologists for terrorists, read here and here. If you think the Palestinian/Israel conflict is not as big a part of the problem as it's made out to be, read this. And if you're ever more disturbed by the latest trope about how we need to listen to people who want to change our foreign policy by threatening to kill us if we don’t comply, read this, part 1, part 2 and part 3.

Softwood lumber, Jack Layton and the Taliban

NDP leader Jack Layton is mad at the Bloc Quebecois and its leader, Gilles Duceppe, for backing the softwood lumber deal. According to CanWest News Service, he accused the Bloc of selling out Quebec workers. ''It's strike two for Mr. Duceppe,'' said Layton following an NDP caucus in Montreal on Thursday. ''First, he supports a budget that has nothing for Quebec ... and now he caves in on softwood.''

Too bad Jack doesn't feel as strongly about standing up to the Taliban as he does about taking on the U.S. lumber industry. After Layton suggested last week that Canada withdraw its troops from Afghanistan, reporters asked him if was calling for Canada to take part directly in negotiations with the Taliban. He replied that"a collective desire to reduce violence and death could become a real motivation on all sides" to join peace talks.

It's nice to know that Jack has his priorities straight about who to cave in to and when. As strongly as Tearfree feels about softwood lumber issue, she thinks that the Taliban are far more dangerous than American lumber lobbyists. Go figure.

Bloc won't bring down government over softwood lumber

Phew! And thank you Gilles Duceppe, but what Tearfree really wants to know is if any government anywhere has ever fallen over softwood lumber. Would Canada have had the dubious distinction of being the first? Even though a softwood election would have caused RTK's ratings to skyrocket, Tearfree is truly glad it didn't come to that.

Praying while flying

OK, Tearfree will admit it. She does not like to see people praying while flying nor does she like to have taxi drivers who pray while driving. It makes her nervous. And what's more, she particularly does not like to see people with ties to certain middle eastern countries praying on planes. While this may seem very unfair to Jews, who have not been involved in any aviation-related suicide missions, Tearfree would still feel way better off with a praying Buddhist or Catholic than a Jew or, worst case scenario, a Muslim. What's more, she thinks the people who need sensitivity training in cases like these are those that pray loudly on planes and she felt this way long before 9/11. Once long ago, when Tearfree was on a a particularly bad flight, with people screaming and calling out to God, she just wanted to yell at all of them to STFU.

Tearfree would also like to add that the most enjoyable flight she has taken recently was to the US, with half a dozen totally hot Air Force pilots on board heading to some kind of training camp. Tearfree felt completely confident that they would kick the asses of any would-be terrorists or, in the event of a simple airplane malfunction, land the plane as competently as Jack Bauer.

Ratemyprofs.com Update

Despite all her very best efforts, Tearfree's ratemyprofessors.com rating may soon start to plummet. Today, a student arrived at class more than an hour late and apologized to Tearfree for sleeping in. After the lecture ended, he came up and asked her for the details of the first assignment, all of which had been explained in hour number one. "Sorry," said Tearfree. "You're on your own."

Hello Eastern Canada

As regular readers know, eastern Canada has been seriously under represented on this blog. In Central Canada, RTK has Jacy and 40 and No Boat. In Quebec, we have Tearfree herself. Out west, we have regular commenters Concerned Lumberjack and Alberta Rancher, but the only easterner to date is that lapsed Newfie and spouse, the notorious Unfaithful Husband.

So a big shout out to Gail Lethbridge of Boring Mom fame, who has just started up her own blog, The Gifted Typist, and has very kindly sent many readers our way. Check out her blog.

Naughty Scottie Report

When Tearfree brought home 8-week-old Bridget two weeks ago, she was cute in a generic fluffball puppy type of way, but in recent days she has turned into a mini Scottie and is going though what may well be the cutest phase of her life, which helps to make some of her naughty Scottie habits bearable. (Photo evidence will be posted later)

Training Bridget has been interesting, to say the least, partly because Tearfree has been dogless for 25 years and partly because over those 25 years there has been a revolution in dog care and training. The rolled-up-newspaper technique that was used to train Tearfree’s last two puppies is now as frowned upon as spanking children. And there’s absolutely no more house training by sticking the doggie’s nose in it and repeating, “NO! BAD!” Instead, you just praise the dog when it does things right, or so the theory goes.

When Tearfree imparted this news to a friend of a similar age, he broke into hysterical laughter. “What!!!???” he exclaimed. “You just praise the dog when it does it right. Let me know how it all works out.”

His comments came at a particularly sensitive time for Tearfree who had made almost zero progress in stopping Bridget’s foot attacking habit, which had made it next to impossible to walk through the house in footwear other than combat boots. For two weeks we had been saying no (alright, sometimes screaming NOOO in pain,) giving her toys to distract her, and, on occasion, getting her to back off only to have her strike again far more fiercely. Finally, after a foot bite in just the place her Rockport-sandal-strap hits her toe, Tearfree decided it was time to try the rolled-up newspaper technique she remembered from her childhood. Lo and behold, the foot attacking problem was solved in 30 minutes with no appreciable negative effects on Bridget’s self-esteem.

Now, Tearfree is trying to decide whether she dares take the rolled-up newspaper with her on walks, where Bridget loves to taste everything in her path: pebbles, sticks, used gum, plum pits, old soggy kleenexes, bottle caps, you name it. (The only thing that she turns up her nose at is cigarette butts.)

Extracting a plum pit held firmly between Bridget’s sharp little teeth is a dangerous operation, which we now basically accomplish by holding her upside down until she spits it out. Tearfree believes therefore that a rolled-up newspaper would not only be easier on Bridget’s trainers but easier on Bridget too. What’s the verdict?

Simply Brilliant!!

You can say what you want about Madonna, but I think she is a brilliant business person.

There is no such thing as bad publicity!!

I love it.

bayl

Va va va voom!

Fantastic blog traffic today, thanks to Tearfree revealing all about how she took revenge against ratemyprofessors.com (scroll down for the gory details.) The only drawback is that these academics -- referred by Inside Higher Ed on Tearfree's birthday (Big thanks, you all) -- haven't yet ventured into the comments sections. Still, at least they're not the porn visitors who came for the Fête nationale and never returned. We hope that some of these new people will indeed stick around and mix it up with our regulars, who, as the data below indicates, just keep on coming.

Sad, but what did he/we expect? By 40 and No Boat

Unless you are a living the life of strained canned peaches, for sure you know who Steve Irwin was.

One rule I implement in the house, which I brought from my childhood, was we are not allowed to watch TV during dinner. I like to believe dinner time is the one chance per day the family has to gather and communicate. Hokey, eh.

As with every rule there are exceptions and the exception in this case was Crocodile Hunter, if it was on during dinner the TV was allowed to stay on as long as it was not a repeat.

Almost every show would involve Steve jumping out of moving vehicles, to run/swim across the road/river or field to pick up a snake, spider, etc., and then go on for 10 minutes on how lucky he was to stumble across this particular animal.
Every time I had the same question: How did the stationary camera know Steve's car/boat would come along at the same time as the animal?
It did not bother me there was a set-up, because that still meant SOMEBODY had to set it up. This guy or the director of the show had a hypnotic control on me for sure, with his ability to handle the world's most dangerous animal and never shut-up while he was doing it.

I cannot speak for everyone but my basic instinct is, see any dangerous animal, change area codes. Do not try to pick it up and perform an oral presentation on it......just leave.

I thought my respect waned a bit while watching his feature length movie, because it was not worth the almost $50 it cost to see, but at the end of the credits it was made perfectly clear the proceeds from the movie would be donated to various wildlife funds. I was back full force as a fan and have rented the movie as well as watching it on TV.

His passion for animals whether it be his dog, crocodiles or whatever was intense, and if I could have that level of intensity about anything I think I would be a better person.

bayl

Back to School Special IV: omygawd, omygawd, omygawd

Because Tearfree's daughter was sick last week -- so sick in fact that she missed the first three days of high school -- Mom got stuck with buying the very long list of school supplies. As a result, Tearfee would now like to go on ratemyteachers.com and totally slag off all the teachers who require the students to buy things like "1 Five Star 200 page spiral notebook (not Hilroy)'" "1 Hilroy Copybook (32 pages)," "pack of 4 overhead markers ('fine' and water soluble)," "1 Staedler eraser," "12 feutres couleurs, crayola, pointe fine," "24 crayons de couleur Prismacolor."

Tearfree had to go to four shops , including two art supply specialists for the Prismacolors. She learned that Prismacolor makes two grades of coloured pencils, student and professional. The student grade comes in packs of 12 and 60 or, at least, that was all anyone had in stock. The professional grade had a pack of 24 that sold for $33, which is when Tearfree put her foot down and bought another brand for $15.

When oh when did this sea change in school supply requirements take place? When Tearfree went to school, the list of supplies was minimal. The teachers told you whether they preferred loose leaf in a binder or notebooks. Your parents, without even glancing at the list, gave you $10 or maybe $20 and you bought what was needed. That's it, that's all.

Nowadays, there's no end to the requirements and seemingly no thought at all given to the cost and specificity. Tearfree just cannot imagine what it would be like to have to do this for more than one child.

Back last June Tearfree blogged about a related phenomenon: school concerts where parents are forced to listen to all the grades perform 10 songs each, three-hour amateur theatrical productions with really bad microphones, and four-hour synchro galas at indoor swimming pools that feel like Roman saunas.

Frankly, it seems to all come down to one thing -- these teachers, theatre organizers and synchro swim coaches have completely lost their sense of perspective and are treating parents like the captive audience at a Castro speech, people with hours and hours of free time to watch their shows, buy their school supplies and attend to their every whim. We as parents need to take back control. The only question Tearfree has is "How?"

Tearfree takes on Ratemyprofessors.com: the latest twist

Various uppity internet personalities, includingElizabeth, a radical lesbian feminist fencer from BC, and a XRLQ, a blogger from south of the border whose name would make a great Scrabble triple word score, are upset with Tearfree for respectively 1) silencing students’ voices and 2) not respecting the ratemyprofessors.com rules and heirarchy.

Inspired, at least partly, by these invalid criticisms, Tearfree is continuing her ongoing campaign to prove how ridiculous ratemyprofessors.com truly is by setting up an RMP page under the name of her pseudonym, Deirdre Dashwood. Tearfree has given the sizzlingly hot Deirdre a PhD in Quantum physics and a tenure-track position at Harvard teaching Women’s Studies. Her specialty is women in science in a post-Sokal, post-colonial laboratory environment. The first “student” to rate her not only gave her a chili pepper but noted that she made Jack Bauer look like a pussy.

Tearfree is asking faithful RTK readers (and even the non- faithful ones) to stop by RMP and give Deirdre a chili and some moral support. (All you have to do is click on the red box that says Rate This Professor.) Tearfree would like to see Deirdre top the Ratemyprofessors.com Hottest 50 Profs list, for which she needs 150 chili peppers. If she achieves this, she will unseat the unsung Canadian, Steve Joordens of University of Toronto at Scarborough, who, according to Tearfree’s daughter, has a kind of Napoleon Dynamite thing going on.

So , c’mon everyone, let’s make Deirdre ratemyprofessors.com’s hottest professor by the end of the week! And in the mean time, Tearfree will try to get an exclusive interview with Steve Joordens about how he got to where he is and what he thinks of the RTK challenge.

Update: Deirdre's listing has been removed from RMP.com within less than half a day, meaning that Tearfree is going to have to come up with an alternate strategy.

Amusingly enough before Deirdre was booted off RMP.com, her first rating which read "makes Jack Bauer look like a pussy" was changed to the politically correct yet incomprehensible "makes Jack Bauer look like a *****."

Tearfree's in trouble again

More flack over her sock puppetry at Ratemyprofessors.com.

Boring Post About My Dinner Party Menu

Tonight I am having a dinner party to celebrate the late summer bounty.

Here is my menu:

Fresh tomato soup with tarragon
Roast chicken stuffed with lemon and rosemary on bed of garlic and onions
Roasted corn pilaf
Buffalo mozzerella and fresh peach salad with watercress and proscuitto
Wild blueberry pie for dessert

But I need appetizer ideas. Seasonal ones, if anybody's reading this. What is a nice idea for an appetizer with ingredients that are at their prime right now?

And here's an aside: Why does anyone even buy a tomato at any other time of the year except now? They bear no significant resemblance to the gloriously juicy and flavourful tomatoes that are from the farm right now in our grocery stores. I literally eat about four a day, and even more peaches and plums.