Hands Off the Milk and Gas!

Greetings Friends,

I'll be the first to admit that a trip to bulk-behemoth Costco is never a pleasant experience, but for things like toilet paper, paper towels, laundry detergent and various other products, I'm willing to suck it up and brave the crowds every few months. For some people, though, Costco is Mecca, the place where they shop for outsize configurations of groceries, cheap clothing, gas, and just about anything they can stuff into their vehicles.

Earlier this week I spotted a story about the Bellingham,Washington Costco location being overrun with Canadian shoppers (Bellingham is right on the Washington/British Columbia border), and locals getting pretty steamed about being invaded by their neighbours to the north. Especially industrious residents on both sides of the border have even set up duelling Facebook pages to rail at each other about the store's overcrowding, fast-disappearing pallets of milk, and long lines at the gas station. I won't even get into the parking lot issues because I have no idea just how awful B.C. drivers are. I can, however, go on for hours about Quebeckers and their proclivities behind the wheel. That's a topic for another day.

This Costco scenario got me thinking: all my life I've been listening to my nutter-butter Canadian family members wax rhapsodic about how much better they think life in the United States is. I've mentioned this on several occasions, but when it comes to cross-border shopping, my family is not unique in their stance that Americans have no idea how lucky they are when it comes to endless retail options. Another story I read confirms this: the CBC reports that Americans enjoy 23 square feet of retail space per person, while Canadians have only 14 square feet per person. This is actually not too bad considering that Canada has only about one-tenth the population of the U.S. But, Canadians being Canadian, it's one more reason to bitch about living in the shadow of the U.S.A.

Americans, on the other hand, should be grateful that their northern neighbours are willing to put up with annoying border crossings and other inconveniences to contribute to the ailing U.S. economy. In all the times I've cross-border shopped in my life, I never heard anyone in the Buffalo, New York area complain about Ontario residents "invading" their space. There are a plethora of retail establishments located within scant minutes of the Peace Bridge, which connects Buffalo with Ft. Erie, Ontario, and I've never once read anything about people in the Buffalo area wanting to ban Canadians from their stores. If anyone has, I'd sure appreciate hearing about it.

Going to Costco, as I've mentioned, has never been particularly enjoyable. The locations are always crowded, the shopping carts big and unwieldy, and the patrons are a bit, shall we say, overindulgent. I'm not suggesting that anyone should pass up great deals on staples like milk, eggs and bread, but when you're buying cheese in blocks the size of Toyota Corollas, it might be time to reconsider just how much of it you really need. I can't say the same for toilet paper, because I am a staunch advocate of having no less than 36 rolls in the house at all times. 

The lesson we should take away from this international "incident" is that Americans and Canadians, while we look the same for the most part, have wildly varying points of view when it comes to our cross-border relationship. This is yet one more example of how ignorance can cause a shit storm, albeit one that could have easily been avoided.

Nava

The Ignorance Epidemic

Greetings Friends,

Yesterday, my Facebook news feed was moving at light speed after word hit the great electronic void that the U.S. Supreme Court upheld President Obama's mandate that approximately 30 million uninsured Americans should be required to purchase health insurance. The 5-4 decision by the high-and-mighty judges is a major victory for Americans, but unfortunately, too many of them are too ignorant to understand why. This landmark decision puts into place one of the most important social programs in decades, and will effectively eliminate many of the bonehead insurance practices that prevent many people from obtaining health insurance (pre-existing condition, anyone?).

If you want more about the details of the decision, I suggest reading this Washington Post article and checking out some of the related links. What I find most infuriating is this amalgamation of Tweets and Facebook conversations by Americans who claim they want to move to Canada because of this decision. Reading them should have made me laugh, but instead, I had to shake my head at the abject ignorance on display by clueless people who think that moving to Canada holds the promise of a better life - at least from a health insurance perspective.

Well, here's some news, my fellow Americans: Canada has had a government-sponsored healthcare system in place for 50 years. While it is a far from perfect system, Canadians have been living with it, and for the most part, thriving. The earth hasn't opened up and swallowed anyone up, nor has Parliament spontaneously combusted during the ongoing debates about how to improve it. And here's the kicker: three men, Tommy Douglas, John Diefenbaker and Lester Pearson (the latter of the three are former Prime Ministers), each with diverse political ideas, managed to come together to create the system that is still in use today. That much cannot be said for American politicians; Democrats are celebrating the decision, while Republicans are crying in their tea over it.

To all the Tweeters who want to move to Canada, the joke is very clearly on you. There have been many knee-jerk reactions to various American policy changes by legions of political ignoramuses and the solution always seems to be, "I'm moving to Canada!" There were times when I agreed with that sentiment, but this particular trumpeting of "life is better in Canada" is at best laughable, and at worst, an indication of just how stupid some Americans really are. Yeah, the American public school curriculum doesn't teach its kids all that much about their neighbours to the north, but with all the access to technology we now have, a simple Google of "Canadian Health Care" would have made many of these moronic Tweeters refrain from posting their threats of flight. And, before any more of you start calling the United States of America the "USSA" (United Socialist States of America), I suggest doing a little more research on Canadian politics. Canada in no way resembles the old USSR, but it does have significantly more social programs in place to benefit its citizens. And that's with a conservative government in place, mind you.

The heath insurance issue will never be one that is not fraught with controversy. I applaud President Obama and the U.S. Supreme Court for taking the necessary steps to make life better for all Americans, but I soundly boo all Americans who think moving to Canada is the answer to escaping these so-called socialist policies. Do your homework, people; reading about your ignorance is giving me a headache. And before you go shooting bullets in my direction, I have an Ontario Health Insurance Plan card in my wallet, and I am a citizen of both countries.

Have a great weekend, a happy Canada Day, and God save the Queen.

Nava

All Happy Families Are a Load of Crap

Greetings Friends,

Anyone who has slogged their way through Tolstoy's Anna Karenina is familiar with the line, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Anyone who is of my generation and grew up watching "The Brady Bunch," "Leave It to Beaver," "Father Knows Best," and the rest of those happy-go-lucky family shows, and wished they had June Cleaver or Carol Brady for a mother, knows exactly what I'm talking about. Once the masses tired of the Carol Brady/June Cleaver unattainably perfect mom hooey, we were given shows like "Eight is Enough," "Family," and my personal favourite, "Dallas," to sink our teeth into. I bring this up because the re-boot of "Dallas" premiered this past Wednesday, and at first glance, Larry Hagman's J.R. Ewing has lost not a lick of his implacable cruelty, which is comforting in a sense, but deeply disturbing in other ways.

When I was younger, I had many illusions about the sanctity of the family. My own was a pretty frightening amalgamation of deeply flawed characters who were always hell-bent on tweaking one another utilizing the most vindictive forms of behaviour even the most talented fiction writers would have trouble conjuring. As I aged, I attempted to bury the abject dysfunction of my own lot in favour of observing the dysfunction of others. I loved playing voyeur and watching other families rip themselves to pieces at a distance. The ones I was privy to made me feel better about my own; I took comfort in knowing that I wasn't the only person who grew up in a loony bin. I was still on the lookout for that seemingly perfect, supportive, unconditionally loving group of people that would tolerate just about anything. If they're out there, I still haven't found them. If you happen to know who they are, please let me know so I can halt my ongoing search.

The resurrection of "Dallas" is proof to me that despite the attrition of the generations, there are certain patterns of behaviour instilled in every family that are about as hard to eradicate as fleas, lice and termites. They are passed down genetically as well as learned, and no amount of outside influence can disabuse these individuals of their destiny. Yes, they are actors re-creating iconic television roles, but they are also depicted as having adapted to the changes that have taken place over the decades. That holds true for fictional families as well as real ones, in particular my own, since none of the deeply flawed characters who are at this moment still drawing breath, seem to have learned anything from their personal histories. And, as with re-booted television series, new characters have been added that deepen the intrigue, and add to the lunacy.

Watching the first episode of the new "Dallas" brought on an epiphany that made me feel both lighter and unbearably sad. Lighter in the sense that life does indeed go on, but sad because those who were once malevolent and vindictive will always continue to be so. Even if they can manage to convince the world that their facade of decency and altruism is genuine, those who have the misfortune of knowing another side of these individuals will always be privy to the truth. What you do with that knowledge has everything to do with shaping the person you were, the person you are, and the person you want to become. You can either wallow in destiny, or you can take the necessary steps to distance yourself from it. Do you want to be a victim of nature, or do you want to nurture yourself beyond that to which you were born? The choice is yours; and it is one many of us struggle with.

I hope those of you who are members of similar familial loony bins have taken comfort in these words. As for those of you who come from a mythical, perfect family, please identify yourselves. I'd so love to be disabused of my cynicism.

Have a wonderful weekend.

Nava

The Sacred Canadian Right to Bitch

Greetings Friends,

As both an American and Canadian citizen, I feel I am uniquely qualified to debunk some of the myths Canadians believe about Americans and Americans believe about Canadians. I have been traveling across the "great undefended border" all my life, and have been living in Canada full-time for the past three years. I can say with complete honesty that neither country has life all figured out; in fact, they both have a lot to learn about what makes them so different from one another. Mud slinging, name calling, and righteous indignation solve nothing. Ignorance seems to trump all, even from the Canadian media, which I always thought was a tad more credible than its American counterpart. Boy was I wrong.

This morning, while perusing CBC.ca and sipping my milked and sugared mug of tea, I came across an astounding load of bitch-crap, courtesy of one of those supposedly credible Canadian journalists I used to somewhat admire. CBC's Senior Washington Correspondent, Neil Macdonald, penned a "thank you Captain Obvious" editorial titled The sacred American right to overeat. Gee Neil, had you not enlightened us to the fact that millions of Americans suffer from obesity and related ailments, I would have thought all these specimens with "[b]ellies hanging down over belts, rolls of neck fat, faces so bloated they’re losing their original appearance, huge rear ends and breasts (on men as well as women), curtains of fat hanging off the undersides of arms, and thick, heavily veined legs muscular from years of hauling around all that extra tonnage," were dropped from alien crafts to live among us and Hoover up all our natural resources. How nice of you to enlighten us Canadians to the fact that it is a "sacred right" we Americans have to indulge in endless gluttony whilst expecting our brethren to pick up the tab for our excesses. And there are no obese Canadians roaming the land mass north of the 49th parallel consuming "over-processed, high-sugar, ultimately toxic food?"

As you can see, I am pretty steamed by Mr. Macdonald's choice of topic. While I used to think he did a somewhat decent job of communicating the ins-and-outs of American politics to Canadians from his perch inside the Beltway, he has now lost all credibility with me. Not only did he choose a topic that is one of the hottest of hot buttons in American culture, he forgot to acknowledge that his fellow Canadians suffer from the same penchant to overindulge and all that goes with it. But since it has become de rigueur to poke fun at Americans for practically any reason, Neil decided that to kick us while we're down was something he could do to fill up his downtime before the Romney vs. Obama heavyweight bout gets underway.

Don't get me wrong; Americans deserve to be made fun of; so do Canadians for that matter. Unfortunately, the world listens when Americans are made the butts of countless jokes. Fortunately for Canadians, you can joke about us from now until the Rapture and the world will not bat a collective eyelash. Why? Because on the world stage, Canada is an inconsequential nation that rides on the blubbery coattails of the very fat United States. Much as Canadians claim to love and and admire Americans, the fact is they are pea-green with envy. They are so jealous of Americans they can barely see straight. Personally, I don't feel Canadians have much to be jealous of, but to attempt to disseminate that opinion would result in some jiggly belly-laughing by the majority of the population. Canadians have their own mountains of dirty little secrets the world has no clue about. We have our share of obese citizens inflicting themselves on the government sponsored healthcare system, due to the same gluttonous tendencies Americans possess. The difference is, nobody cares. The spotlight of the world has always been on America, with Canada glowering in the background like a group of homely girls who can't get dates for the prom. The rest of the world may believe that Canadians are a group of nice, polite do-gooders, but the truth is, they're sometimes mean-spirited and jealous as hell of the United States. And that's not very neighbourly.

Macdonald closes out his editorial by stating, "[W]ere I an American, I'd rather not help pay for Rush Limbaugh's bypass surgery, once he qualifies for Medicare." Guess what Neil? The tax dollars you pay to the Canadian government are footing the bill four countless bypass surgeries for your fellow citizens. Worry about them, not some blowhard right-wing American pundit who is the reason why you have a job.

Nava

Memorial Day Mash-Up

Greetings Friends,

Happy Memorial Day to everyone south of the 49th parallel! Here in Canada, it's only Monday, but it is a day worthy of remembering those who serve, and those who have made the ultimate sacrifice in defence of both great countries. Keep that in mind as you grill your burgers and dogs and enjoy a day off from the grind.

As for me, I'd like to share another one of my lists. Along with a killer sinus headache (blasted humidity), I've got some topics rolling around inside my cranium that are just itching to get out. Hope you like them.

Skinny Jeans and Stilettos Will Bring You Down: Back in my Sassoon, Sergio Valente and Jordache jeans-wearing middle school days, I don't remember anyone bitching about how tight their jeans were. They were and you just dealt with it. Add to that the fact that my mother insisted on having mine dry-cleaned, so not only were they tight, they could stand up and walk away on their own. Today, I have to read about fashionable skinny jeans being bad for your health. According to some, too much time spent in skinnies can cause meralgia paresthetica, a condition that compresses the nerves in the outer part of the thigh, causing numbness, tingling and discomfort. Add a pair of towering heels to that mix that cause your pelvis to tilt, and you're putting even more pressure on those nerves. Folks, let's keep in mind that most of today's jeans have a percentage of Lycra in them that makes them a hell of a lot more comfortable than their truly torturous predecessors. As for the ridiculously high heels, a broken ankle can cure you of them right quick.

BlackBerry Going the Way of Betamax: It seems the once ubiquitous BlackBerry, or "CrackBerry," has lost much of its clout with all the iPhone and Android smart phones in use now. According to one report, Research In Motion (RIM) is preparing to announce more layoffs this week in light of their shrinking global market share, which as of this writing is down to a meagre seven percent. Sony managed to recover from its Betamax tape fiasco, but I'm not holding out much hope for the BlackBerry. As a devout iPhone user, you'd have to rip it out of my cold, dead hands before I'd consider an alternative. I'm very certain I'm not the only one who feels this way.

Evil Penguin: Last month, Google, otherwise known as the "Evil Empire," unleashed its latest algorithm update, affectionately known as "Penguin," on the SEO community. According to what I've read, it was not supposed to affect English language Web sites all that much, but those that are written in "highly spammed" languages. I don't know which languages they're referring to, but I know of a few English language sites that got slammed. Burgess Meredith's "Penguin" character in the Batman series was never this evil. Anyone up for an "Occupy Google" sit-in?

Are You Mom Enough? When I got an eyeful of Time magazine's May 21 cover, showing a woman breast feeding a little boy who looks old enough to chew steak, I thought to myself, what's wrong with this picture? Don't get me wrong, I am a strong proponent of breast feeding babies (even though I don't have kids of my own), but all these "extreme" parenting trends are a tad much for me. I'm all for raising healthy children, but "attachment parenting" that leads to "helicopter parenting" spells disaster for an entire generation of young people who will most likely be unable to function independently as they age. Unfortunately, I'm not a Time online subscriber, nor do I have any desire to pick up the print edition of the magazine, so I have not read the article. You can, however, view the cover by clicking here.

And lastly,

Thank You Pinners! I've picked up almost 50 new Ink & Paint fans since I joined Pinterest. Thank you for your support.

Now, go forth and grill.

Nava

Have a Conversation

 

Greetings Friends,

There isn't much on television these days that blows my skirt up, so when I find a program that does, I want to let everyone know about it.

My latest discovery is "The Conversation with Amanda de Cadenet." I stumbled upon a link to the show's Web site and was riveted to the two episodes I was able to stream. You can catch the show in the U.S. on Lifetime, which surprises me since that channel has been the home of "Movie of the Week" type dreck for as long as its been in existence. From what I've seen, "The Conversation..." is the anti-Oprah, with de Cadenet conducting thoughtful interviews with strong, outspoken women like Jane Fonda, Diane von Furstenberg, Melissa McCarthy, Gwyneth Paltrow, Sarah Silverman and others. Watching it was indeed a revelation. 

For years I've been hating on Oprah because I believe her message to the women of the world is that it's okay to be weak. The message of "The Conversation..." is the polar opposite. The show depicts women who aren't afraid to go after what they want, and aren't afraid to admit that they've made mistakes. They don't rely on men for happiness and they believe that strength and independence are two of the most important things women should have. Most importantly, they believe that a woman should not fall victim to societal stereotypes about perfection - both physical and emotional. 

There was once a time when strong, outspoken women were considered scary feminists. Now, post-Oprah, it seems we are more willing to accept the role of a strong female in society. I find it ironic that Oprah's OWN network is floundering on the brink of implosion in the face of this one little show that has the guts to talk about things like titties, and a plethora of topics that matter to most women; not to mention favourite sexual positions and things you would tell your 14 year-old self if you could. I found the candour refreshing after years of watching Oprah cackle and screech about all the things that were important to her, as opposed to what is really important to women in general. When you make it to the pinnacle of your own media empire, it's only a matter of time before you become so insulated that you lose touch with what's important to the masses. The chickens have come home to roost in Oprah-land and for the first time in a long while, she's going to have to own up (pun intended) to a potential failure.

 While I must admit to some degree of schadenfreude about Oprah's current boggle, I would love to see "The Conversation..." succeed beyond the limits of a home on a whiny little cable channel to something more along the lines of, say, Charlie Rose, or even Bill Maher. Women have valuable things to say and we need strong outlets for our voices. The show is a bit too risqué for the comfort level of the networks, but I'm hoping that despite its venue it manages to survive. I am committed to regular Internet viewing, and I'm hoping my readers will follow my lead and check it out. Men too; you might just learn something. 

Nava

Fifty Shades of Bad Writing

Greetings Friends,

Early on in my second career as a student, I encountered a somewhat jaded classmate who told me something to the effect of, "The more degrees you obtain, the less you will enjoy the books you read. When you get your Ph.D you're bound to hate everything." Well, I stopped at a Masters degree, only because Ph.D programs in English Literature are now about as hard to get into as a keyhole, or those trendy night spots that have bottle minimums that run into the thousands of dollars. Unless of course if you're James Franco, then your celebrity opens every door with a smile, even the doors to Ph.D programs in literature.

I admit to being a book snob, even during my downtime. The thought never occurs to me to pick up a mass-market paperback by one of those churn 'em and burn 'em serial authors, or indulge in any of the latest crazes like Twilight, Hunger Games or Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy. None of that remotely interests me. Give me literary or historical fiction, a good memoir, or the latest by one of my favourite authors, and I'm more than happy. So, what was it that drew me to the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy? Read on...

I had a Chapters Indigo gift card burning a hole in my wallet since Christmas, and last week, I happened to be in one of the stores. I was perusing the stacks when I encountered a display containing all three books in the Fifty Shades trilogy, and thought, what the hell - these aren't books I would normally pay for so why not use the gift card? And before all you library-hounds get on my case, no - it didn't even occur to me to borrow them.

So, home I went with these "erotic romances" in my hot little hands, anxious to read what all the fuss was about. I put aside the tome I was currently about 100 pages into thinking I would read about 20 pages of Grey before I gave up and carted the books down to my building's laundry room for my neighbours to fight over. Seven days later I chewed through all three volumes, just over 1,500 pages of what had to be the most insipid, formulaic drivel I ever laid eyes upon. Even the S&M-laden sex scenes became boring after about the first two. The "suspense" was predictable and the main characters were vapid and self-involved. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I stuck with all three volumes until I polished off the last one (no pun intended) yesterday afternoon. Then, it hit me.

At some point right before I re-entered academia, it dawned on me why I love to read so much: reading a good novel is a challenge; the author's imagination and his or her ability to weave a tale that captures yours is what makes reading worthwhile. An author who writes many successful novels that stand on their own is supremely talented, in my opinion. An author who engages in the churn and burn, like many of the most financially successful ones do, relies on a tried-and-true formula that the average reader never ceases to tire of: sex/romance/suspense. Before Fifty Shades, I can't remember the last formulaic novel I read. It had to be something by Danielle Steel (gasp!) way back when I was in high school. I had high hopes for John Grisham when I read The Firm, but he amounted to nothing more than a churner and burner; mass market authors are little more than tree-killers.

As for E.L. James and her trilogy, I believe she is the latest in a long line of financially successful authors who are guilty of making the great literary talents resort to mewling and begging for publishing deals; that is, if mewling and begging even works. In the world of sex/romance/suspense, at least in the one conjured by James, writing about mewling and begging equals a huge payday. It's sad that talent still must starve, and formula is the perennial glutton at the smorgasbord.

Nava