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Paradise Recycles

What do you do if an election comes up dead even? If you are the town of Paradise you dump the Pepsi bottles out of your recycle bin, throw both gents in there and see who pops up. The result may be Paradise's first truly recycled mayor.

Feds on the Rails

Every spring Home Hardware produces a flyer selling a very nice well priced hummingbird feeder. Only problem is that the island of Newfoundland has no hummingbirds. Sure there may be a scattered vagrant Ruby-Throated around Pasadena but that poor little creature is only visiting, and if one were to appear in Torbay he might likely be accompanied by a lion, tinman, and scarecrow. None-the-less they ship those humming bird feeders. That's the sort of head-scratcher that happens when Newfoundland and Labrador is perceived from a distance.

Not to pick on Home Hardware, it's the same thing with Walmart for example. On a particularly humid day this summer I remarked to a Walmart greeter "Bloody hot in here isn't it" (actually it was "Friggin' 'ot id-nit", but accent aside...) The blue vested lady replied, "we called the mainland - they won't let us turn down the heat." True! Local Walmart's don't have their own thermostat! But that's the way it goes isn't it: Can't trust a Newfoundlander to know what a comfortable body temperature is.

Someone, somewhere else calling the shots. That brings me to mother Ottawa. I get a flyer in my mail touting how great the federal government is for investing in rail transportation. Remember trains? They have them everywhere else in Canada except for Newfoundland. We did have trains, railway stretched from coast to coast, routes used for shipping paper to Botwood, a turnabout in Bishop's Falls. We put pennies on the track during recess, and when we heard the whistle we ran like hell to the nearest butman (that's what we called the piers on the tressle - Googling the word is a bad idea).



What happened to the trains? We traded the federal government's financial input into the rail system for some infrastructure money to upgrade highways. So it is difficult to applaud the fact that the rest of Canada is getting money pumped into its railway. It is even more difficult when the Conservatives send me a nice picture of a train to rub it in.

The investment in the railway is one that by default we cannot take advantage of in Newfoundland and Labrador. Given that Ottawa's has nar a clue when it comes to NL may I suggest we use our portion of investment into the TransLabrador Railway. It's a little different than VIA, it uses transport trucks instead of trains - but if a name change is what it takes then long live the TLR.

I think a great promotion would be to offer a free hummingbird feeder with every VIA Rail ticket. We can use the new TransLabrador Railway to ship all of those hummingbird feeders back west. It's a win win.

The Prime Minister Makes a Stand

Lanier Phillips: Discovery in St. Lawrence

From Community Linkages Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Lanier Phillips: Discovery in St. Lawrence

There are Newfoundlanders and Labradorians born and bred, and then there are those who have found meaning here entirely by accident.

Lanier Phillips was one of 46 men who survived the Truxtun disaster. His story is not a simple story of survival but a story of the power of humanity. In a world of segregation and racism Mr. Phillips credits the simple generousity of the people of St. Lawrence, NL, not only with saving his life, but with their compassion - changing it forever. As a black man in the segregated south of the 50's he has said: "To experience instantly love and humanity that I didn't think existed between the races — it just changed everything for me."

This is a story that begs to be told and has had some great interest in the Newfoundland and Labrador film industry. Now the story has caught the attention of the American film industry. It has even caught the attention of Bill Cosby who invited Mr. Phillips on stage and told his story. A full length feature film is finally in the works.

The story is remniscent of a film called "Amazing Grace" that Ray Johnson likes to quote when we meet with Community Linkages. Mr. Phillips story, like Amazing Grace tells of the power of the individual, when love and compassion are the motivating factors for change. The upcoming film will perhaps offer a rare glimpse of the true virtue of rural Newfoundland and Labrador and why we so passionately love this place.

Listening to Lanier Phillips on CBC:

http://www.cbc.ca/...st_lawrence.html

The Puffins and the Wolf

A long time ago when the earth was blue and green there was an island in the North Atlantic Sea, the prettiest you've ever seen. On this rocky coast of crag and scarp lived a colony of puffins. They made a meager but sustained life living off the sea, diving for fish off the shores. Some years were lean and their young grew weak, but in the good years they feasted on fish and danced through the evening.

One fateful March, they were cold and hungry and grew weary in wait for the capelin that would wash in with the waves of June. The sea would offer the bounty that had sustained them for generations, but the nights were long and the wait was proofing unbearable. Other fish had been scarcer than previous years and their young were disappearing in great numbers. The elder puffins assembled, unbeknownst to them the tiny island had been visited that year by a cunning wolf.

Our young are hungry, the puffins cried, and we are cold and fear we will not survive to see the warmth of summer. Just then as the puffins were assembled came a low rumbling that filled the air like thunder. The puffins shook and all at once swung their coloured beaks to the direction of the rumble. It was a voice, the voice of the wolf:

I know your problem, rumbled the wolf with wet fangs flashing in the low evening sun, and it is I alone who can help you. You can have all the comforts of the modern world, treasures and comforts that a bird with such poor useless wings could never dream of. You will be warm and your bellies full. For my generous philanthropy I would only ask for fresh eggs and a gift of fish. The puffins, anxious to see a better live for their children agreed to the terms of partnership with the wolf.

Daily the puffins brought their eggs and a share of their fish. Dear wolf, they would say as they knelt at the feet of the dog, dear wolf these gifts I bring to thee so that we may live in harmony with you. The arrangement between the wolf and puffins lasted many years, until at last the fish became hard to find. With the Wolf’s substantial share of fish the waters off the shores were being harvested heavily. The puffins caught as much fish as they could but the bounty at the feet of the wolf became less and less. At long last the poor puffins could not sustain themselves and the wolf. Their children were again dwindling in numbers and many were hungry.

The elders again went to the wolf who was not at all pleased. Why is it that your gifts have become so few? he asked, his snout thrust toward the puffins and his teeth bared. Dear Wolf, spoke the elders, our children are again cold and hungry the fish are harder to find, we must fly further and dive deeper to fish. Our eggs are left unguarded. Too often we are returning with no fish to find our nests empty. And... one puffin stepped forward, and dear wolf, if I may, some puffins have seen the sea gulls bringing you fish.

The wolf stood to his full eight towering over the leaders of the puffin colony. “You are puffins” he snarled, “you fish, that is what you do, if you cannot provide for me I will find someone who will.”

So the Puffins fished even harder. They flew longer and dove even deeper. But try as they might they could not provide for their young and also provide a modest gift to the Wolf.

All of the puffins this time assembled. Many cried out that they were better off in the years before the wolf. But the elders were divided, many could still remember March in the years before the wolf when they were hungry and cold. All agreed that they would return to the wolf to renegotiate the terms of their union. But just then their bodies shook and they swung their coloured beaks to the back of the crowd to the low familiar rumbling of the Wolf’s voice.

I told you he barked that if you could not provide for me I would find someone that would. He licked his salivating lips and in that instant he leapt into the assembled colony of puffins and devoured them one by one.

Looking around the tiny island the greedy wolf realized how desolate it had become. There was nothing now to sustain neither a puffin nor a wolf. He ran to the shore leaping into the water and swam to the big northern land where it was said the caribou traveled in great numbers like living rivers.

Shut up - You're Not Helping!

"Oh dear!" I think, upon hearing of three teens boys in Deer Lake who have chased down and brutalized a young moose.

"Oh No!" As I hear that the news of the animal abuse has been picked up by national media.

"Oh Shit!" I drop my head to my hands when the news reports that the father of one of the youth offers the alibi that: the kids weren't chasing the moose since they were vandalizing a church at the time.

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/cbc/090813/canada/canada_newfoundland_moose_revisited812

It reminds me of the joke where a man is arguing with a police officer who has pulled him over for speeding. From the passenger seat the misses calls to the officer: "It's no use arguing with him when he's drunk officer."

My brand of justice would call for the three kids to work for the local SPCA until they are 20, and for the father to have his lips sewn shut for the same period.

UPDATE: As it turns out investigation reveals the three young people had nothing to do with the moose and had not harassed it. I wonder will the national media pick up this important fact in the story? Likely not. The Newfoundland barbarian kids are a better story.

Something Else

This sign on the road to the Irish Loop warns against juggling while riding a unicycle on open water. Point well taken.

Shrimp and Potatos (Halibut on the Side)

Had to update this post. Ms. Shea shows all the qualities of being a true politician. Blatantly self serving.



http://www.cbc.ca/canada/newfoundland-labrador/story/2009/06/19/shea-halibut-criticism-619.html

Nan: A Confession

Nan, I really should finally tell you - I absolutely hated that milk pudding you made.

On Wednesday I carried you, your head resting just a foot from my hands. We carried you to lie next to Pop and we sung your favourite hymns. It was a service you would have enjoyed.

It was surreal to walk into your house afterwards and not be greeted by a bear hug. Entering you house was always the same. The kettle was put on to boil before I could even realize you had filled it. Then the food would start to appear and it never seemed to stop. A cup of tea, bread and pickles, date squares, and tea buns, jam and molasses cookies, jam-jams, sweet raisin bread. It was useless to tell you I was not hungry as you fluttered about like a butterfly pulling jars and containers from the cupboards and fridge.

And no lunch was worthy unless something hot was made on the stove. That’s when you would whip up that milk pudding. A little bowl and a steaming hot spoonful of this gelled white mass. It reminded me of Cod liver, I know so many of your daughters and grandchildren lapped that down but I just couldn't take to it. I shoveled it down fast in an effort to pass it through my gums before I could really concentrate on the taste and texture.

Of course you saw the empty bowl and thought: "he's starving" so you would flop an even larger spoonful of this mock cod liver into my bowl. I ate that too, slower.

As I left you would pull a loaf of homemade bread from the freezer and smack the round buns like a baby's bottom. Your hands testing it to make sure it was a good enough loaf for your grandson.

The bread, the squares, homemade pickles and jam it was gold to me. The pudding not so much. I thought I should tell you that. I thought I should also tell you how much I love you, more than you would ever know. Your influence is alive.