The universally accepted truth: men and women do not understand each other. We're wired differently. Countless hours and years and lifetimes have been spent trying to figure each other out, to no avail.
Being married, I can discipher a great deal of "male code", but I am in no position to give insight into the mind of someone else's husband. I've got my own live-in male brain to figure out, so ladies, you're on your own. Good luck.
I can, however, throw the guys a bone.
The following is a rough translation of Female English. These translations are approximate, and will vary in detail and intensity from woman to woman.
She says: Nothing is wrong, I'm fine.
She means: There's plenty wrong, I'm anything but fine, and you have about thirty seconds to figure out why and fix it, unless you want my mood to worsen exponentially.
She says: Do you want to watch a movie?
She means: Do you want to watch a movie with characters, a plot, and minimal explosions/gunfighting/female nudity?
She says: Do we have a step ladder?
She means: I'm going to paint the living room tomorrow while you're at work, and even if you don't like the color, it will be too much work for you to change it.
She says: You're blue sweater? It's hanging in your closet, for once.
She means: I found it under the bed, and if you don't start picking up your clothes, I'm going to throw them all away.
She says: Did anyone call while I was out yesterday?
She means: I know Susan called while I was out yesterday, so if you can't take and deliver messages, let the machine pick up.
She says: I don't care, go out tonight if you want to.
She means: I'm not telling you to go out, I'm giving you the opportunity to prefer to stay home with me. I obviously don't want you to go out, and I will make you miserable for days if you do. Choose carefully.
She says: Does this outfit look ok?
She means: I wouldn't be out here modeling for you if I didn't think it looked good, so please tell me it's incredible, or I'll probably tear my closet apart in a rage and end up staying home and pouting all night.
She says: Kate's husband bought her the most beautiful flowers, you should see them, they're blue roses.
She means: I want you to buy me flowers, please. (The "please" part is variable, depending on mood and length of time that has elapsed since she last received a bouquet of flowers)
She says: How was supper?
She means: It took me two hours to cook that, amidst screaming children and chaos, so you'd better say it was delicious or tomorrow we'll be having Kraft Dinner.
She says: Who was that scantily-scad, buxom knock-out you were hugging?
She means: That better have been your long-lost cousin.
She says: I'm going to get my hair done tomorrow.
She means: We'll be $120 poorer tomorrow, and you probably won't even be able to tell what I got done to my hair.
She says: Work was a nightmare today.
She means: I can't wait to tell you the story about the photocopier mishap, how I spilled my coffee, and how Marcy complained about her cramps all day. It's your job to pretend all of this is interesting, the way I do when you talk about power tools being on sale at Canadian Tire.
She says: My friend from high school got engaged.
She means: On July 14th of next year, you'll find yourself wearing uncomfortable clothes and smiling at a room full of people you don't know.
She says: We need to talk.
She means: You need to listen.
Now, in my defense, I do not base these simulated conversations on life experience (well, the majority of them, anyway). My husband doesn't have it nearly that bad, but these examples, however accurate, are an unpleasant reality for many husbands and boyfriends. Take heart, gentlemen; we love you, and we'll go as easy on you as we can. We know you don't understand us but, luckily for you, that doesn't stop us from trying to show you how.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
"Those Flower Pins"
I got my Remembrance Day poppy a few days ago. There was an older man, dressed in a Legion uniform, giving them out at the grocery store, and he smiled at me when I put a few dollars in his container.
When I was young, Remembrance Day was the day for which we had a big assembly in school. The day our teacher would hand out poppies after lunch. The day men in uniforms would come to our school, show us all their medals, and give a sad speech. The day one student got picked to go lay a wreath at the front of the gymnasium. Once the assembly was over, we went home, had a day off school, and then it was back to business as usual.
Even as I got older, war was just something I studied in Terry Clements' history class. My grandfather was enlisted in World War 2, though, being in communications in Halifax, he was never deployed overseas, so I didn't hear any horror stories. A friend of mine served in Rwanda, but he came home years ago, and without a visible scratch. Like so many others, because my life was never really impacted by war, I viewed war as something that happened long before my time.
As I was putting on my poppy, a little girl behind me asked her mother what "those flower pins" were for, and the lady replied, "to remember the all men and women who died in the war a long time ago." Unfortunately, she's only somewhat correct about the "long time ago" part.
Today we live in a different world. War is no longer something that took place 75 years ago, that we study in history class. It's happening right now.
You don't have to be in support of any current war to be in support of the people who are fighting in it. I'll leave my opinions of George W. Bush and the wars in the Middle East for another day, but I can tell you with certainty that, in no way does my opposition of the "War on Terror" compromise my high regard for the courageous people who risk their lives over there. I think it's a shame that men and women, young and old, have put their faith and trust in leaders who, with ulterior motives, lie their country into war and conflict. But history will show, those leaders will be looked down upon, and not those who followed them.
All over Nova Scotia, on November 11th (and every other day), people will be remembering their recently lost loved ones, and praying for their family members who are fighting abroad as we speak. Maybe also for their great-great-grandfather, who was lost in World War 1, or their mother's uncle who died in World War 2, or their neighbor's late husband who died in Vietnam, but also, and perhaps more immediately, for those soldiers at war right now. The 35-year-old fathers from Greenwood who have left a wife and two small children behind. The 43-year-old brothers from River Bourgeois who have been in Afghanistan for five years. The 29-year-old daughters from Sydney who have spent most of their adult lives in the Middle East. The husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends of people all over our region. War is more than ancient history, it's reality.
This is to take nothing away from the Veterans of WW1 and WW2. These brave men and women did the same kind of fighting that we see on the news every night, and should always be revered and honored, regardless of how long ago it was. When I see a smiling Veteran, handing out poppies at the grocery store, I often think he must be shaking his head at our obliviousness. Everything he went through, the sacrifices he made, the victory he helped win - and some little punk casually leaves a quarter in his jar, grabs a poppy, and walks away. I think we should all make it a point to acknowledge those Legionnaires, out of respect. Say hello. Smile. Talk to them. It doesn't hurt, I promise. Were it not for them, we might not be out buying groceries, we might be chowing down on rations of Hiltler Sticks and Nazi Nuggets.
Remembrance Day is more than just a holiday, a long weekend, a day off work. It's a time for us to contemplate how lucky we are, to honour those who weren't so lucky, and to acknowledge those who have to pray for luck and survival every day. It's so easy for us to forget, but on November 11th, it's our job to Remember.
When I was young, Remembrance Day was the day for which we had a big assembly in school. The day our teacher would hand out poppies after lunch. The day men in uniforms would come to our school, show us all their medals, and give a sad speech. The day one student got picked to go lay a wreath at the front of the gymnasium. Once the assembly was over, we went home, had a day off school, and then it was back to business as usual.
Even as I got older, war was just something I studied in Terry Clements' history class. My grandfather was enlisted in World War 2, though, being in communications in Halifax, he was never deployed overseas, so I didn't hear any horror stories. A friend of mine served in Rwanda, but he came home years ago, and without a visible scratch. Like so many others, because my life was never really impacted by war, I viewed war as something that happened long before my time.
As I was putting on my poppy, a little girl behind me asked her mother what "those flower pins" were for, and the lady replied, "to remember the all men and women who died in the war a long time ago." Unfortunately, she's only somewhat correct about the "long time ago" part.
Today we live in a different world. War is no longer something that took place 75 years ago, that we study in history class. It's happening right now.
You don't have to be in support of any current war to be in support of the people who are fighting in it. I'll leave my opinions of George W. Bush and the wars in the Middle East for another day, but I can tell you with certainty that, in no way does my opposition of the "War on Terror" compromise my high regard for the courageous people who risk their lives over there. I think it's a shame that men and women, young and old, have put their faith and trust in leaders who, with ulterior motives, lie their country into war and conflict. But history will show, those leaders will be looked down upon, and not those who followed them.
All over Nova Scotia, on November 11th (and every other day), people will be remembering their recently lost loved ones, and praying for their family members who are fighting abroad as we speak. Maybe also for their great-great-grandfather, who was lost in World War 1, or their mother's uncle who died in World War 2, or their neighbor's late husband who died in Vietnam, but also, and perhaps more immediately, for those soldiers at war right now. The 35-year-old fathers from Greenwood who have left a wife and two small children behind. The 43-year-old brothers from River Bourgeois who have been in Afghanistan for five years. The 29-year-old daughters from Sydney who have spent most of their adult lives in the Middle East. The husbands, sons, fathers, brothers, wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends of people all over our region. War is more than ancient history, it's reality.
This is to take nothing away from the Veterans of WW1 and WW2. These brave men and women did the same kind of fighting that we see on the news every night, and should always be revered and honored, regardless of how long ago it was. When I see a smiling Veteran, handing out poppies at the grocery store, I often think he must be shaking his head at our obliviousness. Everything he went through, the sacrifices he made, the victory he helped win - and some little punk casually leaves a quarter in his jar, grabs a poppy, and walks away. I think we should all make it a point to acknowledge those Legionnaires, out of respect. Say hello. Smile. Talk to them. It doesn't hurt, I promise. Were it not for them, we might not be out buying groceries, we might be chowing down on rations of Hiltler Sticks and Nazi Nuggets.
Remembrance Day is more than just a holiday, a long weekend, a day off work. It's a time for us to contemplate how lucky we are, to honour those who weren't so lucky, and to acknowledge those who have to pray for luck and survival every day. It's so easy for us to forget, but on November 11th, it's our job to Remember.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The Devil Wears Puma
I've never been a big fan of "The View". A bunch of female know-it-alls, celebrity big-mouths, nosy windbags, all talking over each other in a mass frenzy, making a TV show that sounds like Friday night bingo at the St. Peter's Lion's Hall. Too much noise for Tuesday at noon, thank you very much. Still, when I occasionally get a break from Treehouse, I sometimes tune in (for lack of any alternative).
"The View" has played a merciless game of musical chairs with it's hosts, and has changed the lineup of "regular members" more often than Destiny's Child. The original cast was tolerable-ish, with their various Master's degrees, at least demonstrating maturity, professionalism, and restraint most of the time. Unfortunately, that changed seasons ago, when ABC started thinning the herd of intelligent people and replacing them with morons.
Case in point: Barbara Walters, in her infinite genius, hired Elisabeth Hasselbeck.
Maybe she seemed harmless in an intellectually-useless kind of way. After all, when she started her stint on "The View", she openly admitted to being uninformed about politics, and just generally naive and inexperienced in life. She probably served as a great ratings-magnet; a pretty young girl from a popular TV show, yahoo! Whatever the reasoning, there she sits, and therein lies the problem.
I can't say with certainty, but in my opinion, there is good reason to believe that Elisabeth Hasselbeck is the stupidest, most ignorant person alive.
I haven't decided if her harping and ranting is the most annoying and mindless noise pollution ever recorded, or if it is perhaps the finest comedy on daytime television. A bad case of foot-in-mouth disease at best. Rosie was obnoxious, but at least she made valid points that she could back up with facts. Elisabeth, whose impeccable credentials include a season on the most contrived reality show in history (where she came 4th), a degree in Fine Arts (majoring in "large paintings"...WTF?? That's a major???), and designing sneakers for Puma, has suddenly become the voice of a nation? An expert in governmental affairs, ethics, and foreign policy? LMAO...I don't think so, dear. A few months in the wilderness without shaving your legs and judging the Miss Teen USA pageant only makes you an expert in irrelevance.
Here's just one example of her rationale, my personal favorite little nugget of wisdom from the incomparable Mrs. Einstein herself: On the topic of lowering the legal drinking age from 21 to 18, Elisabeth disagrees with the idea, but thinks the law should allow 18-year-old soldiers returning from Iraq to drink at their leisure. Also, while they're at it, the government should design a program to wean high school students into drinking, so that they can properly gauge their alcohol tolerance when they go to college. (LMAO....I'd love to see that law pass on the floor of the House. The Hasselbeck/Yale/Lohan Mandatory Underage Alcohol Consumption Bill For The Success and Betterment Of University Binge Drinking.)
As a far-right-leaning, very conservative Republican, she opposes gun control, ending the war, the morning after pill, and most other Democratic ideals. Her position on those topics should be respected and heard, but not shoved down the throats of other hosts, guests, and viewers alike. Her maniacal defense of George W. Bush comes off like a student defending her father the Principal. (Could she be the love child of GWB and...let's see...possibly Farrah Fawcett?!?! That would explain so much....) It almost seems as if she's been so brainwashed by Republican propaganda, that she's about to start her own church or something. The Church of Bush. (Hey, that would make a pretty good skit for Saturday Night Live, EH starting a church dedicated to the teachings of GWB, not unlike Tom Cruise and his Scientology bull&%$#......sorry, I digress....)Anyway, the bottom line is, it's fine to have strong opinions, but it's unprofessional to be rude and catty to people who disagree with you, as is so often the case on "The View" when Elisabeth opens her pie hole.
And I'm not alone in my judgement of this chick. The website www.fireelisabethhasselbeck.com has a mission statement, a petition, and a purpose.
As a disclaimer in my own defense, for people who might say this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black, I am very aware of my lack of knowledge on many (most?lol) topics, and I can admit that. I don't pretend to know it all, and I don't subject millions of people to my self-righteous bickering on national TV five days a week. (Only online in this blog occasionally....)
I'm not sure how to end this rant. I'd love to put something witty and catchy and humorous, but those characteristics aren't in keeping with the Elisabeth Hasselbeck theme. So I guess I'll just say, I think she may be the devil, which means apparently the devil doesn't wear Prada after all. She wears Puma.
"The View" has played a merciless game of musical chairs with it's hosts, and has changed the lineup of "regular members" more often than Destiny's Child. The original cast was tolerable-ish, with their various Master's degrees, at least demonstrating maturity, professionalism, and restraint most of the time. Unfortunately, that changed seasons ago, when ABC started thinning the herd of intelligent people and replacing them with morons.
Case in point: Barbara Walters, in her infinite genius, hired Elisabeth Hasselbeck.
Maybe she seemed harmless in an intellectually-useless kind of way. After all, when she started her stint on "The View", she openly admitted to being uninformed about politics, and just generally naive and inexperienced in life. She probably served as a great ratings-magnet; a pretty young girl from a popular TV show, yahoo! Whatever the reasoning, there she sits, and therein lies the problem.
I can't say with certainty, but in my opinion, there is good reason to believe that Elisabeth Hasselbeck is the stupidest, most ignorant person alive.
I haven't decided if her harping and ranting is the most annoying and mindless noise pollution ever recorded, or if it is perhaps the finest comedy on daytime television. A bad case of foot-in-mouth disease at best. Rosie was obnoxious, but at least she made valid points that she could back up with facts. Elisabeth, whose impeccable credentials include a season on the most contrived reality show in history (where she came 4th), a degree in Fine Arts (majoring in "large paintings"...WTF?? That's a major???), and designing sneakers for Puma, has suddenly become the voice of a nation? An expert in governmental affairs, ethics, and foreign policy? LMAO...I don't think so, dear. A few months in the wilderness without shaving your legs and judging the Miss Teen USA pageant only makes you an expert in irrelevance.
Here's just one example of her rationale, my personal favorite little nugget of wisdom from the incomparable Mrs. Einstein herself: On the topic of lowering the legal drinking age from 21 to 18, Elisabeth disagrees with the idea, but thinks the law should allow 18-year-old soldiers returning from Iraq to drink at their leisure. Also, while they're at it, the government should design a program to wean high school students into drinking, so that they can properly gauge their alcohol tolerance when they go to college. (LMAO....I'd love to see that law pass on the floor of the House. The Hasselbeck/Yale/Lohan Mandatory Underage Alcohol Consumption Bill For The Success and Betterment Of University Binge Drinking.)
As a far-right-leaning, very conservative Republican, she opposes gun control, ending the war, the morning after pill, and most other Democratic ideals. Her position on those topics should be respected and heard, but not shoved down the throats of other hosts, guests, and viewers alike. Her maniacal defense of George W. Bush comes off like a student defending her father the Principal. (Could she be the love child of GWB and...let's see...possibly Farrah Fawcett?!?! That would explain so much....) It almost seems as if she's been so brainwashed by Republican propaganda, that she's about to start her own church or something. The Church of Bush. (Hey, that would make a pretty good skit for Saturday Night Live, EH starting a church dedicated to the teachings of GWB, not unlike Tom Cruise and his Scientology bull&%$#......sorry, I digress....)Anyway, the bottom line is, it's fine to have strong opinions, but it's unprofessional to be rude and catty to people who disagree with you, as is so often the case on "The View" when Elisabeth opens her pie hole.
And I'm not alone in my judgement of this chick. The website www.fireelisabethhasselbeck.com has a mission statement, a petition, and a purpose.
As a disclaimer in my own defense, for people who might say this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black, I am very aware of my lack of knowledge on many (most?lol) topics, and I can admit that. I don't pretend to know it all, and I don't subject millions of people to my self-righteous bickering on national TV five days a week. (Only online in this blog occasionally....)
I'm not sure how to end this rant. I'd love to put something witty and catchy and humorous, but those characteristics aren't in keeping with the Elisabeth Hasselbeck theme. So I guess I'll just say, I think she may be the devil, which means apparently the devil doesn't wear Prada after all. She wears Puma.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
28 is the new 40
I went out Saturday night and had way too much to drink. It had been so long since I had done something like that, that I had temporarily forgotten how much my alcohol consumption tolerance has decreased since my younger days. It's now Thursday, and this is the first day since my night out that I feel back to normal. Pretty bad - a five day hangover, courtesy of six short hours of excess.
As I lay with a throbbing headache and nausea early this week, I began to think of how unmistakably old I feel. Back in the day, I could have drunk twice as much, stayed out half the night, and been fine the very next morning. What happened?? I'm still in my 20s!! (Not for much longer, granted, but still technically.)
So I started to take note of things that show my age and my place in life, and how having kids, being married, and growing up can make a 28-year old feel much, much older.
-- see above (5 day hangover)
-- I remember being 18 and taking two hours to get all gussied up, preparing to go to the liquor store, and hoping against all hope that the clerk would not ask me for ID. Now, though trips to the NSLC happen very seldom, they usually involve swinging by on my way home from the grocery store, dish-pan hands and all, frazzled hair and "mom jeans". And if the clerk asks me for ID, I strongly consider leaping over the counter and kissing him/her passionately on the lips.
-- My adult bedtime is much earlier than my teenage curfew.
-- Nice looking, young waiters call me "ma'am".
-- Going shopping used to be about enjoyable browsing and exciting sales, but with two squirming kids in tow, it has become an exercise in efficiency, patience, and survival.
-- Speaking of shopping, time, age, and experience have taught me a very important lesson: it's a courageous mother who braves Wal-Mart on Family Allowance day.
-- The make-up compacts, movie ticket stubs, and money previously found in my purse, have been replaced with an adequate supply of napkins, an emergency granola bar, and 16 dinkies.
-- Martha Stewart is my idol. And not for the purposes of bringing humor to this blog, I mean it. She's a genius and I love her. I'm serious.
-- My dream vacation, instead of including wine and dancing and romance, now involves hiring a babysitter, renting a hotel room, and sleeping for an uninterrupted three days.
-- Song stuck in my head in 1997: the new Backstreet Boys song. Song stuck in my head in 2007: the theme song from "The Backyardigans".
-- I can successfully feed a dog, wrestle a 2-year-old, tune out a 9-year-old, chop a green pepper, fold towels, make a phone call, and ponder the topic of my next blog - SIMULTANEOUSLY.
-- At times when I get mad at the kids, I give myself pause when I hear myself using the same threats my parents used on me...in the exact same menacing tone.
-- I am more aware than ever that toilet paper, soap, and milk do not just fall out of the sky. Until you're on your own, you don't realize that these items have to be purchased.
-- The end of summer and the beginning of the school year are suddenly cause for great celebration.
-- Richard Gere has gone from "old guy my friend's mom likes", to "oddly sexy".
-- There are only three sure things in life: death, taxes, and massive, unrelenting piles of laundry.
-- A lot of responsibility comes with being Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.
-- I am fairly well-versed on the topics of "High School Musical", B-Daman, and Grand Theft Auto.
-- Who would have thought I could derive so much unabashed joy from throw pillows, kitchen appliances, and a nice console table?
-- If you watch enough Treehouse, you'll find yourself thinking about the strangest things...like why Frank & Frank aren't in Special Ed, why Toopy hasn't addressed his obvious gender dysmorphia issues, and where the hell Max & Ruby's parents are.
-- No good comes of any conversation starting with the words "Visa", "Nova Scotia Power", or "Revenue Canada".
If you can't relate to at least one of the points above, I have to assume you're a single, childless, independently wealthy socialite with no responsibilities. Your obliviousness would almost be refreshing.
But for those of you who can relate, know that you're not alone. Lots can happen in 10 years, and, though we may not be capable of the same rowdy raucousness we once revelled in, we wear our stains and hangovers and stretch marks and frazzled hair like badges.
I've had my fill of freshman nonesense, and I'm glad that 28 is the new 40.
(I don't have the energy to have it any other way.)
As I lay with a throbbing headache and nausea early this week, I began to think of how unmistakably old I feel. Back in the day, I could have drunk twice as much, stayed out half the night, and been fine the very next morning. What happened?? I'm still in my 20s!! (Not for much longer, granted, but still technically.)
So I started to take note of things that show my age and my place in life, and how having kids, being married, and growing up can make a 28-year old feel much, much older.
-- see above (5 day hangover)
-- I remember being 18 and taking two hours to get all gussied up, preparing to go to the liquor store, and hoping against all hope that the clerk would not ask me for ID. Now, though trips to the NSLC happen very seldom, they usually involve swinging by on my way home from the grocery store, dish-pan hands and all, frazzled hair and "mom jeans". And if the clerk asks me for ID, I strongly consider leaping over the counter and kissing him/her passionately on the lips.
-- My adult bedtime is much earlier than my teenage curfew.
-- Nice looking, young waiters call me "ma'am".
-- Going shopping used to be about enjoyable browsing and exciting sales, but with two squirming kids in tow, it has become an exercise in efficiency, patience, and survival.
-- Speaking of shopping, time, age, and experience have taught me a very important lesson: it's a courageous mother who braves Wal-Mart on Family Allowance day.
-- The make-up compacts, movie ticket stubs, and money previously found in my purse, have been replaced with an adequate supply of napkins, an emergency granola bar, and 16 dinkies.
-- Martha Stewart is my idol. And not for the purposes of bringing humor to this blog, I mean it. She's a genius and I love her. I'm serious.
-- My dream vacation, instead of including wine and dancing and romance, now involves hiring a babysitter, renting a hotel room, and sleeping for an uninterrupted three days.
-- Song stuck in my head in 1997: the new Backstreet Boys song. Song stuck in my head in 2007: the theme song from "The Backyardigans".
-- I can successfully feed a dog, wrestle a 2-year-old, tune out a 9-year-old, chop a green pepper, fold towels, make a phone call, and ponder the topic of my next blog - SIMULTANEOUSLY.
-- At times when I get mad at the kids, I give myself pause when I hear myself using the same threats my parents used on me...in the exact same menacing tone.
-- I am more aware than ever that toilet paper, soap, and milk do not just fall out of the sky. Until you're on your own, you don't realize that these items have to be purchased.
-- The end of summer and the beginning of the school year are suddenly cause for great celebration.
-- Richard Gere has gone from "old guy my friend's mom likes", to "oddly sexy".
-- There are only three sure things in life: death, taxes, and massive, unrelenting piles of laundry.
-- A lot of responsibility comes with being Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy.
-- I am fairly well-versed on the topics of "High School Musical", B-Daman, and Grand Theft Auto.
-- Who would have thought I could derive so much unabashed joy from throw pillows, kitchen appliances, and a nice console table?
-- If you watch enough Treehouse, you'll find yourself thinking about the strangest things...like why Frank & Frank aren't in Special Ed, why Toopy hasn't addressed his obvious gender dysmorphia issues, and where the hell Max & Ruby's parents are.
-- No good comes of any conversation starting with the words "Visa", "Nova Scotia Power", or "Revenue Canada".
If you can't relate to at least one of the points above, I have to assume you're a single, childless, independently wealthy socialite with no responsibilities. Your obliviousness would almost be refreshing.
But for those of you who can relate, know that you're not alone. Lots can happen in 10 years, and, though we may not be capable of the same rowdy raucousness we once revelled in, we wear our stains and hangovers and stretch marks and frazzled hair like badges.
I've had my fill of freshman nonesense, and I'm glad that 28 is the new 40.
(I don't have the energy to have it any other way.)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The Color Purple
I saw the funniest political cartoon the other day. It was a huge picture of Oprah breastfeeding a baby Barack Obama. (Whoever writes/draws those things is a genius of John Stewart proportions.)
Oprah Winfrey is a very interesting subject. There is no middle ground with this woman - people either love her and adore her, or they despise her and want her off the air. But one thing is for certain: everyone knows who she is, and everyone has at least some opinion of her.
This is what I think.
I think women are much bigger fans of Oprah than men are, and I think there are two main reasons for this. First, Oprah is intimidating. She's a big personality, loud, unabashed, honest, rich, successful, powerful, with a zero poop-tolerance. She does not back down from dealing with tough issues that most people would choose to ignore. These traits must be difficult for some men to deal with. It is much easier for them to just call her names and roll their eyes at her, than it is to admit that she might just be more woman than they could handle, and could wipe the floor clean with them. Men have issues with that kind of thing. Sorry, men.
Secondly, Oprah attributes a great deal of human behavior to emotional and psychological influences, things that plenty of men don't want to discuss. "Mushy girl stuff" doesn't usually appeal to their practical nature, and Oprah loves talking about mushy girl stuff.
Anyway, I digress.
After laughing hysterically at this political cartoon, I started thinking about people's impression of Oprah. One thing that you often hear discussed, frequently, is that Oprah is racist, something I think is completely untrue. I know I'm supposed to be saying African-American (at least I think that's the politically correct terminology), but for the sake of not having to type those 16 characters over and over again, I'll use black....that should be ok for me to say since she often refers to herself as black. Oh well, I'll take my chances.
Oprah is black. A great number of her guests are also black. Plenty of the causes she supports and projects she's involved in have to do with issues in the black community. That this leads people to believe she's racist is complete hypocricy. I'm white. If someone told me to invision a woman who had been beaten by her husband, or a man who's beaten the odds and thrived with a severe disability, I would automatically picture a white woman and a white man. This has nothing to do with me being racist, it has to do with a tendancy to initially relate to people of my own race. It's not because I think that no black women are beaten by their husbands, nor is it because I don't think a black man could overcome a disability. So when Oprah's producers approach her with an idea for a show about great current musical performers, she might be first inclined to book Alicia Keys, where Dr. Phil might automatically think of Justin Timberlake. And when she's trying to book guests for a show about working mothers, the mothers she first pictures are probably going to be black. Do you see what I mean? It's about relating and familiarity and habit, rather than an intentional snub to white people. Maybe I haven't given the greatest explanation, but I'm sure someone catches my drift.
I also feel it necessary to mention how, 1)she is equally hard on every race and ethnicity when she smells B.S.; 2)she is eager to praise every race and ethnicity when she witnesses greatness, and; 3)she can do whatever she wants, since it's her TV show, and millions and billions of people are going to watch it regardless of what she does.
So here she is, Ms. O, publicly supporting a presidential candidate for the first time in her career, and he's black. Well guess what, I'm inclined to support Barack Obama too, and I'm white as the driven snow. Though I suspect our main reasons for liking him are different, I think we have one reason in common. Racism is a huge issue in the United States, even moreso than in Canada, I believe. What better way to turn all the back-woods, bigoted hillbillies on their ear, than to elect a black president? This might be an irresponsible reason, but it is excused by the fact that Mr. Obama is very intelligent and qualified, making him, in my opinion, an excellent candidate for Leader of the Free World. The fact that he's black is just icing on the cake for me, as I'm sure it is for Oprah as well, irresponsible or not.
I think racism is immature and petty. There are plenty of white people I love, and probably an equal number who I wish would get shot with a ball of their own snot. There are plenty of black people who are accomplished and outstanding, and plenty who are a pain in the ass. Character has nothing to do with race, and when people start to judge others based on character instead of race, the world will be a well-oiled machine.
It wouldn't matter if she was purple, I love Oprah. She's a smart lady with a good heart. I don't think she's racist at all. In fact, I think we share the same view of racism.
And what woman doesn't want to have something in common with Oprah?!?
Oprah Winfrey is a very interesting subject. There is no middle ground with this woman - people either love her and adore her, or they despise her and want her off the air. But one thing is for certain: everyone knows who she is, and everyone has at least some opinion of her.
This is what I think.
I think women are much bigger fans of Oprah than men are, and I think there are two main reasons for this. First, Oprah is intimidating. She's a big personality, loud, unabashed, honest, rich, successful, powerful, with a zero poop-tolerance. She does not back down from dealing with tough issues that most people would choose to ignore. These traits must be difficult for some men to deal with. It is much easier for them to just call her names and roll their eyes at her, than it is to admit that she might just be more woman than they could handle, and could wipe the floor clean with them. Men have issues with that kind of thing. Sorry, men.
Secondly, Oprah attributes a great deal of human behavior to emotional and psychological influences, things that plenty of men don't want to discuss. "Mushy girl stuff" doesn't usually appeal to their practical nature, and Oprah loves talking about mushy girl stuff.
Anyway, I digress.
After laughing hysterically at this political cartoon, I started thinking about people's impression of Oprah. One thing that you often hear discussed, frequently, is that Oprah is racist, something I think is completely untrue. I know I'm supposed to be saying African-American (at least I think that's the politically correct terminology), but for the sake of not having to type those 16 characters over and over again, I'll use black....that should be ok for me to say since she often refers to herself as black. Oh well, I'll take my chances.
Oprah is black. A great number of her guests are also black. Plenty of the causes she supports and projects she's involved in have to do with issues in the black community. That this leads people to believe she's racist is complete hypocricy. I'm white. If someone told me to invision a woman who had been beaten by her husband, or a man who's beaten the odds and thrived with a severe disability, I would automatically picture a white woman and a white man. This has nothing to do with me being racist, it has to do with a tendancy to initially relate to people of my own race. It's not because I think that no black women are beaten by their husbands, nor is it because I don't think a black man could overcome a disability. So when Oprah's producers approach her with an idea for a show about great current musical performers, she might be first inclined to book Alicia Keys, where Dr. Phil might automatically think of Justin Timberlake. And when she's trying to book guests for a show about working mothers, the mothers she first pictures are probably going to be black. Do you see what I mean? It's about relating and familiarity and habit, rather than an intentional snub to white people. Maybe I haven't given the greatest explanation, but I'm sure someone catches my drift.
I also feel it necessary to mention how, 1)she is equally hard on every race and ethnicity when she smells B.S.; 2)she is eager to praise every race and ethnicity when she witnesses greatness, and; 3)she can do whatever she wants, since it's her TV show, and millions and billions of people are going to watch it regardless of what she does.
So here she is, Ms. O, publicly supporting a presidential candidate for the first time in her career, and he's black. Well guess what, I'm inclined to support Barack Obama too, and I'm white as the driven snow. Though I suspect our main reasons for liking him are different, I think we have one reason in common. Racism is a huge issue in the United States, even moreso than in Canada, I believe. What better way to turn all the back-woods, bigoted hillbillies on their ear, than to elect a black president? This might be an irresponsible reason, but it is excused by the fact that Mr. Obama is very intelligent and qualified, making him, in my opinion, an excellent candidate for Leader of the Free World. The fact that he's black is just icing on the cake for me, as I'm sure it is for Oprah as well, irresponsible or not.
I think racism is immature and petty. There are plenty of white people I love, and probably an equal number who I wish would get shot with a ball of their own snot. There are plenty of black people who are accomplished and outstanding, and plenty who are a pain in the ass. Character has nothing to do with race, and when people start to judge others based on character instead of race, the world will be a well-oiled machine.
It wouldn't matter if she was purple, I love Oprah. She's a smart lady with a good heart. I don't think she's racist at all. In fact, I think we share the same view of racism.
And what woman doesn't want to have something in common with Oprah?!?
Monday, August 27, 2007
If I Had A Million Dollars....
One of today's big headlines: "Single Winner in $314 Million Powerball Lottery"
Imagine. $314 million bucks now belongs to one person. Could be an old lady with a bunch of really lucky dogs. Could be a college senior who will now be drunk until February. One ticket, probably costing about two dollars, and that one person's life is changed forever.
My husband and I often talk about what we would do if we ever won the lottery, as I'm sure everybody has. Now don't get me wrong, I'll never ACTUALLY win the lottery, largely because I don't play (I don't have any luck - like I say, I wouldn't win at Bingo if I was the only person playing). Like the convenience-store-gamblers say, "You'll never win if you don't buy a ticket," so I've resigned myself to that fact, but it still doesn't stop us from daydreaming about it.
Just think about it for a minute. Let's say you're a family with a couple of kids and you win a much-needed million dollars. What would you really do with it?
The first sensible thing to do would be hire a financial planner, right? That's always been my train of thought, but maybe not with ONE million dollars. Give me a half hour and a big truck, and I could spend that much at Wal-Mart. So no financial planner for this amount. First, let's pay all our bills. The average Canadian family is over $70,000 in debt. So let's say you pay off your bills, your car, your credit cards, and your student loans, and let's say all that costs you $100,000 (which it probably doesn't...paying off every single debt would probably cost a lot more, but let's just go with a nice round number). And let's say you sold your house, getting rid of your mortgage. So you're at square one, with no debts whatsoever.
What do you do first? Plenty of people would say "build a house". As anyone who has built a house knows, this venture is very expensive, often more expensive than buying. And this new house wouldn't just be ANY house, it's your DREAM house, right? Come on, you're a millionaire!!! Can't be a millionaire and build a 1200 sqaure foot bungalow! So by the time you buy a nice piece of waterfront property, get all your permits, pay for your labor, materials, furniture, etc, etc, etc,...you're out about...hmmm...I'd say about $400,000. Possibly a bit less if your dream house is not that fancy, possibly more if it's a real palace. So half of your money is gone already.
Now of course you're going to need a new car. At least one. A millionaire can't be seen driving around town in a Kia! So let's say $50,000 on some fancy new wheels (not including the GTO you promised to buy your husband if you ever won the lottery...and not including the two old muscle cars he wants to buy and restore for your two boys for when they're older...and not including a minivan, which you kind of need anyway). On second thought, maybe I need to revise that number to $100,000. Five vehicles will be very expensive, and I can afford it now, being a millionaire and all.
Now we have our dream house and our dream cars. What about a nice vacation? St. Tropez, anyone? Let's go! Flights, hotel, meals, entertainment, insurance, souveniers, ground transportation.....hmmm...for four people, plus a friend for my son, plus someone to watch the baby so we can go out for a night or two while on vacation....I'll say this trip would cost an easy $25,000.
So now we're back from vacation, and we need to get down to business with this money. Our kids will, if they know what's good for them, be going to college someday. Considering how much it cost when I went, I'd be surprised if a million dollars would pay for it all in 2016. But let's put aside $100,000 for each of the kids, as I'm sure that will pay for tuition at least. And let's also assume our two kids are going to each have two kids of their own, so we have to put aside a few bucks for the grandkids too...let's say $25,000 each? There's another $100,000.
Hold on now, I better tally up these numbers. Hmm....I only have $175,000 left. Didn't I have a million dollars just a second ago? I didn't even go shopping yet!
Ok, now we have to make a few investments for the long term. $50,000 on the right stocks should do it, I think.
So that leaves me with $125,000. Still seems like a lot of money, but I have to give some away. And, being as their "favorite" sister/brother/aunt/neice/cousin/etc is now a millionaire, nobody is expecting $50 in a card, if you know what I mean. So let's figure in at least ten people, and give them $10,000 each. There's another $100,000.
Now I have $25,000 left, plus whatever I got for selling my house. I haven't given any money to charity yet, I haven't paid for the upkeep, maintenence, and operating costs of my fleet of vehicles and my huge, electricity-consuming house. I haven't paid my taxes. I haven't even bought groceries yet.
Suddenly one million dollars doesn't seem like very much, does it?
Winning $1,000,000 in the 6/49 isn't the same today as it would have been twenty years ago. Many of us have spent a million dollars and more in our lifetime, and certainly aren't rich. It makes you wonder if winning that much would really be enough. Surely, if I won a million dollars, I wouldn't be building a house worth five-hundred grand, but when you hear that someone won the lottery, they're automatically "The Rich People", and they're expected to live a certain lifestyle. I have a feeling that a millionaire's only brother would be a little bitter getting $10,000. And $50,000 doesn't seem like very much to invest on your future. So these numbers I have used as examples might be skewed somewhat, but we can all agree on one thing - it doesn't take long for money to disappear. If not on houses and cars and vacations, it would go somewhere else, and fast. To live the life of a celebrity, to have every material possession we want, would one million dollars be enough? Probably not.
Still, if anyone has a spare million they're willing to part with, I would be happy to take it off their hands.
Imagine. $314 million bucks now belongs to one person. Could be an old lady with a bunch of really lucky dogs. Could be a college senior who will now be drunk until February. One ticket, probably costing about two dollars, and that one person's life is changed forever.
My husband and I often talk about what we would do if we ever won the lottery, as I'm sure everybody has. Now don't get me wrong, I'll never ACTUALLY win the lottery, largely because I don't play (I don't have any luck - like I say, I wouldn't win at Bingo if I was the only person playing). Like the convenience-store-gamblers say, "You'll never win if you don't buy a ticket," so I've resigned myself to that fact, but it still doesn't stop us from daydreaming about it.
Just think about it for a minute. Let's say you're a family with a couple of kids and you win a much-needed million dollars. What would you really do with it?
The first sensible thing to do would be hire a financial planner, right? That's always been my train of thought, but maybe not with ONE million dollars. Give me a half hour and a big truck, and I could spend that much at Wal-Mart. So no financial planner for this amount. First, let's pay all our bills. The average Canadian family is over $70,000 in debt. So let's say you pay off your bills, your car, your credit cards, and your student loans, and let's say all that costs you $100,000 (which it probably doesn't...paying off every single debt would probably cost a lot more, but let's just go with a nice round number). And let's say you sold your house, getting rid of your mortgage. So you're at square one, with no debts whatsoever.
What do you do first? Plenty of people would say "build a house". As anyone who has built a house knows, this venture is very expensive, often more expensive than buying. And this new house wouldn't just be ANY house, it's your DREAM house, right? Come on, you're a millionaire!!! Can't be a millionaire and build a 1200 sqaure foot bungalow! So by the time you buy a nice piece of waterfront property, get all your permits, pay for your labor, materials, furniture, etc, etc, etc,...you're out about...hmmm...I'd say about $400,000. Possibly a bit less if your dream house is not that fancy, possibly more if it's a real palace. So half of your money is gone already.
Now of course you're going to need a new car. At least one. A millionaire can't be seen driving around town in a Kia! So let's say $50,000 on some fancy new wheels (not including the GTO you promised to buy your husband if you ever won the lottery...and not including the two old muscle cars he wants to buy and restore for your two boys for when they're older...and not including a minivan, which you kind of need anyway). On second thought, maybe I need to revise that number to $100,000. Five vehicles will be very expensive, and I can afford it now, being a millionaire and all.
Now we have our dream house and our dream cars. What about a nice vacation? St. Tropez, anyone? Let's go! Flights, hotel, meals, entertainment, insurance, souveniers, ground transportation.....hmmm...for four people, plus a friend for my son, plus someone to watch the baby so we can go out for a night or two while on vacation....I'll say this trip would cost an easy $25,000.
So now we're back from vacation, and we need to get down to business with this money. Our kids will, if they know what's good for them, be going to college someday. Considering how much it cost when I went, I'd be surprised if a million dollars would pay for it all in 2016. But let's put aside $100,000 for each of the kids, as I'm sure that will pay for tuition at least. And let's also assume our two kids are going to each have two kids of their own, so we have to put aside a few bucks for the grandkids too...let's say $25,000 each? There's another $100,000.
Hold on now, I better tally up these numbers. Hmm....I only have $175,000 left. Didn't I have a million dollars just a second ago? I didn't even go shopping yet!
Ok, now we have to make a few investments for the long term. $50,000 on the right stocks should do it, I think.
So that leaves me with $125,000. Still seems like a lot of money, but I have to give some away. And, being as their "favorite" sister/brother/aunt/neice/cousin/etc is now a millionaire, nobody is expecting $50 in a card, if you know what I mean. So let's figure in at least ten people, and give them $10,000 each. There's another $100,000.
Now I have $25,000 left, plus whatever I got for selling my house. I haven't given any money to charity yet, I haven't paid for the upkeep, maintenence, and operating costs of my fleet of vehicles and my huge, electricity-consuming house. I haven't paid my taxes. I haven't even bought groceries yet.
Suddenly one million dollars doesn't seem like very much, does it?
Winning $1,000,000 in the 6/49 isn't the same today as it would have been twenty years ago. Many of us have spent a million dollars and more in our lifetime, and certainly aren't rich. It makes you wonder if winning that much would really be enough. Surely, if I won a million dollars, I wouldn't be building a house worth five-hundred grand, but when you hear that someone won the lottery, they're automatically "The Rich People", and they're expected to live a certain lifestyle. I have a feeling that a millionaire's only brother would be a little bitter getting $10,000. And $50,000 doesn't seem like very much to invest on your future. So these numbers I have used as examples might be skewed somewhat, but we can all agree on one thing - it doesn't take long for money to disappear. If not on houses and cars and vacations, it would go somewhere else, and fast. To live the life of a celebrity, to have every material possession we want, would one million dollars be enough? Probably not.
Still, if anyone has a spare million they're willing to part with, I would be happy to take it off their hands.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The Home of Our Hearts (if not our careers)
It probably seems like I'm harping, but I love Cape Breton. In my opinion, there is no greater place to be from, and no better place to live.
This ideology is great in theory, but sometimes it isn't very practical.
It's no secret that Cape Breton isn't where you go when you're looking for a good job. Just the opposite - so many locals unwillingly relocate in order to find one. My brother loves Cape Breton, and yet he toils in Alberta, like so many others, making money, living, and missing home. Look at all the working parents who have to leave their families in Cape Breton to make a living out West for months at a time, sometimes longer, just because there isn't enough opportunity at home to sustain themselves.
During my workforce days years ago in Cape Breton, I never really had a problem getting a job because, for awhile at least, I was in the food service industry. Lowly waitress to some, but I defy you to find me a more profitable minimum wage job. I counted on tips as part of my take-home pay, and without them I would have been on welfare, like so many other people I knew. As I got older and moved to the city, I began to look for a job which utilized my (very expensive) education. In the Metro Halifax area, those jobs are a bit easier to come by, but in Cape Breton, they're almost non-existant. This is what leads me to my latest rant, as I completely understand where all the displaced Cape Bretoners are coming from, now more than ever.
My husband has a good job, and I've been on indefinite maternity leave for a few years. I decided recently that I would like to go out into the workforce again, and we prepared ourselves for the ramifications of that decision. This is what we discovered: for me to put my baby in day care (which we would have to be put on a waiting list to acquire), and to have my older son receive after school care, would cost a minimum of $45 per day. Per day. That equals $225 per week, and that's money I have to make just to justify leaving the house. It would cost even more on days where my oldest son has no school.
Then figure into that the money I would need to spend on clothes for work, the extra expense of packing four different lunches, transportation to and from the sitter, and then to and from work. The stress of getting two kids up and fed and packed and dressed and ready at the crack of dawn, and finding the time to make myself look presentable as well. I also have to take into account the loss of stability we now get to enjoy, since my youngest spends all day at home with his mom, and his brother gets to come home every day after school.
I ask you, is all of that worth $7.50 per hour?
Imagine that daily ritual, figure in the expense, and ask yourself if making $56.00 per day, before deductions, is worth it. That's $281.25 per week, again, before deductions. After deductions, it would likely cost me more to go to work than it does to stay home.
Sadly, there are plenty of you who don't have to imagine it at all, you live it every day. When I look on the JobBank today, there are 33 available jobs listed, which I can tell you is the most I've seen in a long time. Of these jobs, the majority are in the Port Hawkesbury area, making it even costlier for those in rural surrounding communities to get work. A full 23 jobs are either part time, seasonal, or term positions, and 28 of the 33 posted jobs are either minimum wage or just above. Only 2 jobs are significantly more, both term positions, and both in the $10 per hour range. The wild card is a job with the local Regional Development Agency, which requires 3-5 years of experience as a General Manager of a Transit System. I'm assuming, since it says the wage is to be negotiated, that the person they hire will be paid quite a bit more than $10 per hour. That's great for the person from Sydney or Halifax who will apply and transfer here to take the job. The online offerings this week are comparable to the normal selection, though there are usually fewer jobs available in the off-season. Welcome to the Strait Area.
And so how are we expected to live, to raise our kids, to get ahead in life, as the cashier at Dollarama? I mean no disrespect to those people toiling away at their jobs, just making ends meet, or maybe not making ends meet at all. On the contrary, I have the utmost respect for people who are ambitous enough to get out of bed every morning and go to work every day at a job that they despise, underpaid, overworked, disrespected, and discouraged. To have paid the Nova Scotia Community College lots of money for a diploma in Office Administration, and to be cleaning rooms at a hotel in town for $8.00 per hour. To be on your feet as a retail sales clerk for eight and nine hours a day, and to not be able to afford to send your kid camping with his friends because you're broke after you pay your babysitter. I feel for all these people, because I've been there before. I'm fortunate now that I'm in a position where I have a choice, but so many other working parents don't have a choice at all, they have a responsibility to take care of their families, and they do it, like it or not.
So after searching and debating and pondering, I've decided to stay home with my kids instead of getting a job. A second income would have been nice, required maybe, but not at the necessary cost.
To all of you who are working hard, I admire your resolve and determination.
To the government of Nova Scotia, take notice. People who are residents of a region with high unemployment are often thought of as lazy, but really that is probably not the case. We need jobs that pay us for the work we do, that allow us to support ourselves and our families. There isn't much point in discouraging people from moving to Alberta and staying in Cape Breton - you're not leaving us much choice. A power bill, a litre of gas, and a carton of milk costs just as much for someone making $15,000 per year as it does for the guys at the mill who make $80,000. Giving us a break on the cost of day care would be nice, but even that doesn't help the people with no children. We need the government to raise the minimum wage, give tax break incentives to companies for paying higher salaries, and create jobs for qualified individuals. The time is now, so that all people living in the Strait Area, and in Cape Breton, can prosper and stay where they belong - HOME.
This ideology is great in theory, but sometimes it isn't very practical.
It's no secret that Cape Breton isn't where you go when you're looking for a good job. Just the opposite - so many locals unwillingly relocate in order to find one. My brother loves Cape Breton, and yet he toils in Alberta, like so many others, making money, living, and missing home. Look at all the working parents who have to leave their families in Cape Breton to make a living out West for months at a time, sometimes longer, just because there isn't enough opportunity at home to sustain themselves.
During my workforce days years ago in Cape Breton, I never really had a problem getting a job because, for awhile at least, I was in the food service industry. Lowly waitress to some, but I defy you to find me a more profitable minimum wage job. I counted on tips as part of my take-home pay, and without them I would have been on welfare, like so many other people I knew. As I got older and moved to the city, I began to look for a job which utilized my (very expensive) education. In the Metro Halifax area, those jobs are a bit easier to come by, but in Cape Breton, they're almost non-existant. This is what leads me to my latest rant, as I completely understand where all the displaced Cape Bretoners are coming from, now more than ever.
My husband has a good job, and I've been on indefinite maternity leave for a few years. I decided recently that I would like to go out into the workforce again, and we prepared ourselves for the ramifications of that decision. This is what we discovered: for me to put my baby in day care (which we would have to be put on a waiting list to acquire), and to have my older son receive after school care, would cost a minimum of $45 per day. Per day. That equals $225 per week, and that's money I have to make just to justify leaving the house. It would cost even more on days where my oldest son has no school.
Then figure into that the money I would need to spend on clothes for work, the extra expense of packing four different lunches, transportation to and from the sitter, and then to and from work. The stress of getting two kids up and fed and packed and dressed and ready at the crack of dawn, and finding the time to make myself look presentable as well. I also have to take into account the loss of stability we now get to enjoy, since my youngest spends all day at home with his mom, and his brother gets to come home every day after school.
I ask you, is all of that worth $7.50 per hour?
Imagine that daily ritual, figure in the expense, and ask yourself if making $56.00 per day, before deductions, is worth it. That's $281.25 per week, again, before deductions. After deductions, it would likely cost me more to go to work than it does to stay home.
Sadly, there are plenty of you who don't have to imagine it at all, you live it every day. When I look on the JobBank today, there are 33 available jobs listed, which I can tell you is the most I've seen in a long time. Of these jobs, the majority are in the Port Hawkesbury area, making it even costlier for those in rural surrounding communities to get work. A full 23 jobs are either part time, seasonal, or term positions, and 28 of the 33 posted jobs are either minimum wage or just above. Only 2 jobs are significantly more, both term positions, and both in the $10 per hour range. The wild card is a job with the local Regional Development Agency, which requires 3-5 years of experience as a General Manager of a Transit System. I'm assuming, since it says the wage is to be negotiated, that the person they hire will be paid quite a bit more than $10 per hour. That's great for the person from Sydney or Halifax who will apply and transfer here to take the job. The online offerings this week are comparable to the normal selection, though there are usually fewer jobs available in the off-season. Welcome to the Strait Area.
And so how are we expected to live, to raise our kids, to get ahead in life, as the cashier at Dollarama? I mean no disrespect to those people toiling away at their jobs, just making ends meet, or maybe not making ends meet at all. On the contrary, I have the utmost respect for people who are ambitous enough to get out of bed every morning and go to work every day at a job that they despise, underpaid, overworked, disrespected, and discouraged. To have paid the Nova Scotia Community College lots of money for a diploma in Office Administration, and to be cleaning rooms at a hotel in town for $8.00 per hour. To be on your feet as a retail sales clerk for eight and nine hours a day, and to not be able to afford to send your kid camping with his friends because you're broke after you pay your babysitter. I feel for all these people, because I've been there before. I'm fortunate now that I'm in a position where I have a choice, but so many other working parents don't have a choice at all, they have a responsibility to take care of their families, and they do it, like it or not.
So after searching and debating and pondering, I've decided to stay home with my kids instead of getting a job. A second income would have been nice, required maybe, but not at the necessary cost.
To all of you who are working hard, I admire your resolve and determination.
To the government of Nova Scotia, take notice. People who are residents of a region with high unemployment are often thought of as lazy, but really that is probably not the case. We need jobs that pay us for the work we do, that allow us to support ourselves and our families. There isn't much point in discouraging people from moving to Alberta and staying in Cape Breton - you're not leaving us much choice. A power bill, a litre of gas, and a carton of milk costs just as much for someone making $15,000 per year as it does for the guys at the mill who make $80,000. Giving us a break on the cost of day care would be nice, but even that doesn't help the people with no children. We need the government to raise the minimum wage, give tax break incentives to companies for paying higher salaries, and create jobs for qualified individuals. The time is now, so that all people living in the Strait Area, and in Cape Breton, can prosper and stay where they belong - HOME.
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