“Old age is not for sissies.”
Bill McGillivray.
Who is Bill McGillivray, you ask? I don’t know. My dad quotes from the guy on a regular basis but who the fuck he is I have no idea.
I went to visit my Grandmother today. She’s 97, and lives in a seniors' home in the West End, just a block off Robson Street.
First of all I had to find parking. I went to a couple of meters, only to find they demanded a buck for 20 minutes. I didn’t have the change, and I had to frustratingly keep moving until I found a less expensive zone.
Eventually I got a spot, and headed up to Haro Park Lodge. I went up to the second floor. I knew that my grandmother had moved rooms since I had last been there, but wasn’t sure if she was still on the same floor or not.
“Who are you looking for?” asked one of the nurses.
“Catherine Betsworth,” I said.
“Oh,” she said. “She’s on the first floor now. She’s been there for a while. You haven’t been here for a while?”
“No,” I admitted sheepishly.
I go down to the first floor. Or try to. The elevator doesn’t stop there. It takes me back to the lobby. I press the button for the first floor, but end up back at the second floor. One of the nurses who I saw previously on the second floor steps into the elevator.
“Oh,” she says curiously. “You’re still here.”
I explain that I’m trying to get to the first floor. She says you need to press a special code on the keypad to get to the first floor.
“Unless,” she goes on, “by first floor, you really mean the lobby?”
What the fuck is this, Lord of the Rings?
No, I say, I want to get to the first floor. She presses the appropriate code, and the elevator takes me to the first floor. I go straight to the nurse’s office, and explain that I’m looking for my Grandmother.
“Oh,” she said, “we took her down to the lunch room for tea.”
The lunchroom is on the same floor as the lobby. I go back down there. There’s a woman, I’d say about sixty, with a microphone. She’s singing songs like “you take the high road and I’ll take the low road...” and “when Irish eyes are smiling...”
No matter where you go, there’s always some hamfaced musician ready make a stage for themselves.
There are about twenty or so old folks watching the performance, most of them women. Twenty mops of grey hair, politely, if resignedly, watching the whippersnapper on stage.
From behind, I can’t tell which one is my grandmother, so I walk around, checking each of them out. They look back in a bemused way, most of them clearly ‘with it.’ Finally an old guy asks me who I’m looking for.
“Catherine Betsworth,” I say.
“Don’t know her,” he replies.
I wander back to the reception area. My grandmother used to simply get up and wander out on her own, failing eyesight and all. She would accost one of the beautiful people at random on Robson, demanding that they help her across the street so she could get to London Drugs to buy cigarettes. Is that where she’s gone? Surely not. She’s nowhere near that mobile anymore.
“Who are you looking for?” asks the woman at the reception desk.
I explain for what seems like the one hundredth time.
“She should be up on the first floor. They rarely bring the first floor people down here. They have their own lounge.”
A-ha.
Back to the first floor, again asking for directions, this time to the lounge. It’s down the hall, and a small group are in there watching T.V. Immediately I think I spot my grandmother, except I’m not so sure.
She’s become less recognizeable. Her features seem to be fading from her face, and I’m left with the saddening and shameful feeling of not quite being sure if I’ve got the right person.
Her eyes were closed, and I gave her a gentle shake to wake her up.
“No, no, no!” she says, in a surprisingly firm but highly irritated tone of voice.
“I wanna sleep. Just let me sleep!”
Yeah, that’s definitely her, I think.
She has never been known for her easygoing disposition. She’s always had a reputation as being a bit abrasive and aloof, but I always liked being around her. She has had four kids, and has outlived all of them except one; my aunt Nina, with whom she hasn’t been on speaking terms for a decade or two.
My grandfather died about twenty years ago. Him and my grandmother have lived in the West End for as long as I can remember. They used to have a place near Comox and Denman, on the top floor. You could see down to Denman Street from the window.
“It’s always busy here,” I once said to my grandmother, many years after my grandfather had died.
“Well,” she replied, “I like it busy. When you’re alone it keeps you company.”
I sat with her for some time while she dozed, then got up to leave. I went down to Robson. A Saturday afternoon teaming with people. I wandered around for a bit, soaking it up. I pondered my grandmother, always wanting to be in the midst of people, yet always keeping her distance.
comments on this or anything:
stoke_acm@yahoo.co.uk
Saturday, October 19, 2002
Wednesday, October 16, 2002
4. "Stoked"
Time: 2:03 Sea Of Tunes, BMI
Master #39212 (Stereo) Recorded 2/12/63
Brian Wilson
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Even I could remember those words. They serve as a kind of J.R. Muc-like vocal punctuation to what is otherwise an instrumental. It was also recorded by Southern California surf outfit The Lively Ones. Now there's a band name.
I'm feeling angst about the band name (ours not theirs). Maybe the band should modify its name. Anybody wishing to give feedback, on this or any topic, can do so by sending an email to:
stoke_acm@yahoo.co.uk
Time: 2:03 Sea Of Tunes, BMI
Master #39212 (Stereo) Recorded 2/12/63
Brian Wilson
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Stoked
Even I could remember those words. They serve as a kind of J.R. Muc-like vocal punctuation to what is otherwise an instrumental. It was also recorded by Southern California surf outfit The Lively Ones. Now there's a band name.
I'm feeling angst about the band name (ours not theirs). Maybe the band should modify its name. Anybody wishing to give feedback, on this or any topic, can do so by sending an email to:
stoke_acm@yahoo.co.uk
Monday, October 14, 2002
“Anarchy sounds good to me, but then I wonder....will the rednecks just play King of the Neighbourhood?”
Jello Biafra.
I read an article in the Globe and Mail the other day by right-leaning commentator Norman Spector. He said that unlike his fellow travellers on the political right, he doesn’t favour more defense spending. Spector, a conservative who is ill-at-ease with government spending, feels that Canada has no real need for a larger military. If we do spend more on the army we will, he says, just end up being soaked into an American defense infastructure anyway, so what’s the point?
This is a valid argument. Many (including, ironically, the American ambassador to Canada) link Canada’s sovereignty to defense. A stronger military is seen as a pre-requisite to a strong national identity. But the counter-argument to this is that Canada will never be able to come close to matching the trillions that go into the U.S. defense budget. We will at best produce a force of limited offensive capability, and this force will inevitably be integrated into an American chain of command.
Spector argues that Canada should find a niche, which in his view is intelligence gathering. He figures it is a vital area of security, and is much less expensive than fleets of F-18 Superhornets. He says it would involve less of an integration into an American infastructure, and would actually give Canada something to trade off with the U.S.
His last point is dubious to me, but nonetheless his overall argument is sound. The question is what is the niche? Intelligence? I’m not enough of a defense expert to provide a solid-enough answer, but this is at least a basis from which to start. I think the military does contribute to our identity and presence in the world, but it should be developed in as ‘Canadian’ a way as possible.
Of course, there is another side to this argument, which is that we should essentially spend nothing on the military. Army guys are ‘pigs,’ a bunch of freaks who use the military as a legal way to act out their fascist tendancies.
Well, whatever.
People sometimes say the same things about cops, but it doesn’t usually stop them from calling 911 when their house has been broken into, or when the neighbours are making too much noise. A society governed by the rule of law will by extension have a large enforcer ‘caste.’ Building inspectors, cops, parking checkers, fisheries officers, park rangers, etc. We think we hate rules, but we can’t stop making them, and they’re not much good if you don’t enforce them.
The same applies internationally. We are, hopefully, becoming a planet ruled by laws. If this is the case, the laws need enforcement. The alternative is a planet ruled by conflicts or empires, by nations who push their luck like a junkie breaking into an old woman’s house. If Canadians are to support a vision of the world in which the rule of law, not force, governs global society, then do we not have an obligation to provide some means of enforcing these laws?
In the late 1950s, a Canadian diplomat, Lester Pearson, won the Nobel Peace Prize for conceiving the idea of peacekeeping forces. It was an excellent invention, but Pearson succeeded with it because he had more to offer than just the concept; he had troops.
Canada emerged from the 2nd World War with the fourth largest military in the world. By the 1950s, this was no longer the case, but the military infastructure built during World War II, and sustained to some degree as a result of the Korean conflict, came in handy when Pearson made his case for a peacekeeping force. Pearson was trying to help solve a conflict in Cypress between Greece and Turkey. The fact that he was able to land a significant Canadian force on the island to proove that his idea could work was crucial.
Canada has milked this peacekeeping reputation for decades, but we are becoming more and more like an ageing British rock band running on its hits from the 1960s. The less we contribute, the more we leave for the other nations wealthy enough to do this kind of dirty work, primarily the U.S. This is not good thing, either for the U.S. or the rest of the world.
We’re going to have to offer something more useful, in the form of a military that can actually play a role in global security, if we want to maintain a noteworthy international presence, and reap the boost in national identity and self-esteem that comes with it.
Jello Biafra.
I read an article in the Globe and Mail the other day by right-leaning commentator Norman Spector. He said that unlike his fellow travellers on the political right, he doesn’t favour more defense spending. Spector, a conservative who is ill-at-ease with government spending, feels that Canada has no real need for a larger military. If we do spend more on the army we will, he says, just end up being soaked into an American defense infastructure anyway, so what’s the point?
This is a valid argument. Many (including, ironically, the American ambassador to Canada) link Canada’s sovereignty to defense. A stronger military is seen as a pre-requisite to a strong national identity. But the counter-argument to this is that Canada will never be able to come close to matching the trillions that go into the U.S. defense budget. We will at best produce a force of limited offensive capability, and this force will inevitably be integrated into an American chain of command.
Spector argues that Canada should find a niche, which in his view is intelligence gathering. He figures it is a vital area of security, and is much less expensive than fleets of F-18 Superhornets. He says it would involve less of an integration into an American infastructure, and would actually give Canada something to trade off with the U.S.
His last point is dubious to me, but nonetheless his overall argument is sound. The question is what is the niche? Intelligence? I’m not enough of a defense expert to provide a solid-enough answer, but this is at least a basis from which to start. I think the military does contribute to our identity and presence in the world, but it should be developed in as ‘Canadian’ a way as possible.
Of course, there is another side to this argument, which is that we should essentially spend nothing on the military. Army guys are ‘pigs,’ a bunch of freaks who use the military as a legal way to act out their fascist tendancies.
Well, whatever.
People sometimes say the same things about cops, but it doesn’t usually stop them from calling 911 when their house has been broken into, or when the neighbours are making too much noise. A society governed by the rule of law will by extension have a large enforcer ‘caste.’ Building inspectors, cops, parking checkers, fisheries officers, park rangers, etc. We think we hate rules, but we can’t stop making them, and they’re not much good if you don’t enforce them.
The same applies internationally. We are, hopefully, becoming a planet ruled by laws. If this is the case, the laws need enforcement. The alternative is a planet ruled by conflicts or empires, by nations who push their luck like a junkie breaking into an old woman’s house. If Canadians are to support a vision of the world in which the rule of law, not force, governs global society, then do we not have an obligation to provide some means of enforcing these laws?
In the late 1950s, a Canadian diplomat, Lester Pearson, won the Nobel Peace Prize for conceiving the idea of peacekeeping forces. It was an excellent invention, but Pearson succeeded with it because he had more to offer than just the concept; he had troops.
Canada emerged from the 2nd World War with the fourth largest military in the world. By the 1950s, this was no longer the case, but the military infastructure built during World War II, and sustained to some degree as a result of the Korean conflict, came in handy when Pearson made his case for a peacekeeping force. Pearson was trying to help solve a conflict in Cypress between Greece and Turkey. The fact that he was able to land a significant Canadian force on the island to proove that his idea could work was crucial.
Canada has milked this peacekeeping reputation for decades, but we are becoming more and more like an ageing British rock band running on its hits from the 1960s. The less we contribute, the more we leave for the other nations wealthy enough to do this kind of dirty work, primarily the U.S. This is not good thing, either for the U.S. or the rest of the world.
We’re going to have to offer something more useful, in the form of a military that can actually play a role in global security, if we want to maintain a noteworthy international presence, and reap the boost in national identity and self-esteem that comes with it.
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