Amazing Story from a Commentator

Our vehicle bit the dust before Christmas, needing a new one rather quickly, my husband found one at a dealer near our home, who happened to deal with a financial institution where we bank as well. They set up the financing, my husband took care of the paperwork, only my signature was still needed. I just had day surgery and we went from the hospital straight to the "bank" to sign the papers. I must have been still a bit groggy, only the next day did I see that we were expected to pay for life insurance. I called the finance officer handling our file and explained, that we have our own life insurance and don't need any from the bank. The bank manager came on the phone, telling me, part of the deal on getting the loan, was that we got life insurance from them. I explained again, that we didn't need it....going back and forth, the manager got quite rude, saying, we could try to get financing elsewhere, and good luck trying to unravel the contract, that was the condition to get the loan ...I forced myself to stay calm and polite, repeating that we didn't need it...finally he consented, saying we could write our life insurance over to them. I called our insurance agent only to find out, that it is "illegal" for any finance institution to "tightsell", as it's called, life insurance. I got financing from my own bank, where I've been a customer for over 20 years, they were great. I called ENQUIRY B.C., who'll connect you with the right branch of the government, that deals with businesses that break the rules. I refused to talk to that rude manager again, my husband phoned to tell them we didn't want their loan, we had no trouble getting the contract dissolved. I had a special constable come to my house and interview me about my dealings with that particular credit union. They haven't heard the last of this yet. Don't even get me started on the car dealership!! And Air Canada! My daughter traveled as an unacompanied minor, to see her grandparents in Europe, she got ill and vomited in the bathroom, they made her clean the toilette! Would they have done that with an adult? I doubt it, no apology, just excuses. They've lost us as customers.
April 3, 2007 8:58 AM

Stand-Ins

Remember Adscam? Remember Gomery?

Well, Jean Lafleur remembers and he ain't smelling so great these days - wherever he may be.

Seems the good Monsieur has flown the coop, gone into hiding, perhaps running a hot dog stand on the Kona Coast. After all, he's only wanted for 35 counts of fraud. He only stole Millions of Canadian taxpayers' hard earned dollars.

Well, I have a suggestion for the constabulary.

While we are waiting for Lafleur to magically re-appear, why don't we hold Jean Chretien as hostage or material witness or maybe just as bargaining tool?

Am I awake yet? Am I dreaming again? You mean real life isn't like the movies? The bag guys don't get caught in the final reel? Sheeesh!

Krusty the Klown Takes Baghdad

You had to see Arizona Republican John McCain strolling casually through a Baghdad market the other day to see what desperation really looks like.

This man is so desperate to be the next President of the United States that he has a contingent of 100 US soldiers shepherding him through a carefully pre-screened market, all the while wearing a flak jacket.

But that was only the beginning of the Gong Show.

The highlight came later at the press conference, where, lying through his capped pearlies, the good senator told us all about "the progress" here in Iraq that just isn't being reported.

Hahahahaha...

Politicians are really something, aren't they? They will do anything, tell any fib, create any myth to get into that office. What ever happened to getting a good job and working for a living?

The Daily Number

Canadian Bank profits are up FIFTY PER CENT.

That may auger well for some sunny optimists and investors, but I say, "Auger f--- yourself."

This is an indicator of a strong economy, we are told. Or maybe it's an indicator that the banks are taking more of our money for fewer and cheesier services.

The glass is half full, or it's FIFTY PER CENT bigger.

And Speaking of Weather...

Many of my friends believe that Global Warming is a case of Chicken Little, a melodramatic non-crisis encouraged and staged by alarmists.

I don't agree with them.

And I am somewhat encouraged by the actions of the Australians today. It was lights out. Read about the chosen darkness here.

Lots of Weather We're Having, Eh?

Yesterday, we walked for almost 4 hours.

First, we covered most of Queen Elizabeth Park, including visiting the macaws and parrots perched among the exotic plants of the Bloedel Conservatory. We considered playing Pitch & Putt Golf, but at $11.75 per, plus a dollar for each club, plus balls and tees, this seemed an unnecessary extravagance.

Then, after enjoying a wonderful coffee and pastry outside at the Epicurean Deli, we went to Kits Beach and beyond to the rocks and sand and huge, gnarled driftwood below Point Grey Road.

In all, between both our tiny digital cameras, we snapped 80 photos. Too often, the bright and most welcome sunshine washed away faces.

Then, last night, at about 11 pm, a snowstorm hit.

What the devil?

Remembering a Great Actress

I’ve been thinking about Anne Bancroft.

It’s not often that an actor finds the perfect role and then inhabits the role so utterly that we can scarcely imagine another person doing it.

Lerner & Lowe wrote the songs especially for Rex Harrison.

Could anyone other than Brando have been Terry Malloy or Don Corleone?

The list of people who were offered and turned down the lead in Lawrence of Arabia is astonishing. But finally, there is O’Toole up there. Singular and unforgettable.

So, just think of the impact that Anna Maria Italiano had in her five decades on stage and in the movies and television…as Anne Bancroft.

And look at these two – that’s right, not one, but TWO – characters that she completely owned: Annie Sullivan and Mrs. Robinson, above.

The other day, I caught the last act of The Miracle Worker. Bancroft won both the Tony and the Oscar for playing the role of Helen Keller’s teacher on stage and in the film. Patty Duke was young Helen, blind and deaf and wild and unteachable.

The climactic moment happens at the well. Annie Sullivan is making an out-of-control hysterical animal-like Helen pump the water. She repeats over and over the finger signs for the letters, w-a-t-e-r, when suddenly the world stops. Where there has been nothing until now, no hint of cognition or recognition, no connection between substance, sound, touch, idea and language, suddenly The Dawn appears. Helen gets it. Then she gets ground and face and Mother and Father and teacher.

I confess. Every time I see this moment, including but a few days ago, I behave crazily. I yell and scream and sob and cry. It seems to touch something so elemental and primal in me that I just completely lose it. It seems to me one of the great moments ever put on film.

If you’ve never seen this classic, I encourage you to rent it now. But be warned. Its power is irresistible.

No Escape from the Evils of Mankind

Yesterday morning, shortly after posting several items to the blog, I headed out into a cool and fresh and sunny day for my daily walk.

I put on my headphones and heard Rick Phillips welcoming us to his CBC Saturday Noon Hour show “Sound Advice,” in which he plays and reviews new music releases.

“Today,” he told us, “we are going to focus on classical music for children.”

Good.

He began with a new recording of a children’s opera called “Brundibar.”

What followed was the unavoidable inescapable nightmare of the Twentieth Century.

A man named Hans Krasa wrote “Brundibar”. Mr. Krasa was seized by the Nazis and sent to the completely false show camp at Terezin, a piece of staging so canny it even fooled the Red Cross at the time. The opera was performed in the camp by children.

All of the children and Mr. Krasa were, like most of the inhabitants of Terezin, sent soon enough to their deaths at Auschwitz Birkenau.

The new recording was from a Seattle group called The Music of Remembrance.

Thus on a brisk and sun-filled morning in Vancouver in March 2007, feeling our unbearable lightness of being, our vitality, breathing in the spring blossoms and the sight of children playing in their yards, we are confronted once again with The Horror.

No matter the books written, the symposia held, the movies filmed and heralded. This Obscenity stays with us, like a yapping dog, never silent, always snapping at our heels.

We are capable of the worst. And often we will do it.

So you are a Jew, a black, a Chinese, a homosexual, a Catholic, a man with or without conviction, a soul without attachment other than to the brand of automobile you chose or the hotel chain you prefer, or a passionate believer in an ancient system of ideals. Does it matter? There is always some hater, some killer waiting at the next station to declare that you and your kind do not qualify.

Yes, there is kindness and grace.

But it is like one drop of rainwater on a single flower.

John Legend - Save Room

Pretty Hot and Sexy video from John Legend, who acquits himself so well on Tony Bennett's "Duets" album.

Stools for Stooges

Would someone PLEASE explain the kitchen counter stool obession?

Every single advertisement in the last 5 years for a new condo development and even new, large luxury homes, feature these idiotic, unstable, uncomfortable eyesores as some kind of high fashion bonus.

Now I can understand that, in the typical 600 square foot condobox, now selling for minimum half a million dollars in Vancouver, that, when the so-called "kitchen" is, in fact, a tiny area with a stove, fridge and fake marble countertops, that you might want to sit at your little fake counter because THERE IS NO WHERE ELSE TO SIT!

But, now even the glossiest of high end home and garden mags can't resist this cliche. If the kitchen has a "work island," then inevitably there are the Wobbly Ones.

What ever happened to sitting down in a chair?

Closed for Business - As Usual

Yesterday, I had one of those special Canadian Business experiences that go a long way to explaining why we have one of the lowest GNP per capita in the civilized world.

I walked into a very large and fancy and one-of Travel offices, thinking I would talk to an agent about my current desire to go to the Galapagos Islands.

Here’s what I e-mailed the owner of the business when I got home.


"Why do we have the lowest GNP per capita in the Western World?

A visit to your offices this morning around noon explains all.

I live in the neighbourhood. I stopped by hoping to discuss with an agent a trip tp the Galapagos Islands.

Your receptionist looked at me like I had just emerged from a space ship. When I told her what I was looking for, she told me that all the agents were in a meeting.

Now, no doubt the meeting was fruitful and important.

But more important than a customer at the front desk? A call couldn't have been made to bring one agent out from the meeting on the off chance that YOU MIGHT DO SOME BUSINESS?

Your website tells me that you are a "full service agency." Do even know what those words mean?

I grew up in the service industry and do you know what I say about your shop?

I say, "Hahahahaha...good luck.""

A good friend points out that it’s time to write that book about horror stories in Canadian service.

Please add yours in the “comments” section below.

Guest Editorial from V.

I'm sure you followed the story of Rebarman. This is the guy who killed a junkie by driving a rebar through his head down in the DTES. The junkie was flailing along the street cursing loudly over the bad outcome of a drug deal. Rebarman was a refugee wanted on drug charges in the USA and "known" to the Vancouver Police. Junkie threw Rebarman's girlfriend to the ground because she asked him to stop cursing in front of her toddlers. Rebarman went into an alley, grabbed some trash rebar and did his deed.

I found this this pastoral vignette to be a perfect encapsulation of the insanity of both our drug policy and refugee policy. Undoubtedly, Junkie would have turned his life around if provided with a free squat through Simple Sam's Silly City program. And Rebarman was undoubtedly a victim of oppression in his native Honduras.

And we pay for this dreck.

Reminds me of an old Yiddish saying from Czarist Russia, sardonically muttered at times of state oppression. "For these pleasures, we pay taxes."

Bush's Private Army

This morning, on Page C8, The Vancouver Sun's Jeff Lee reviewed a new book called "BLACKWATER: The Rise of the World's Most Powerful Mercenary Army.

You can not only read all about this startling new book here, but you can watch the video of the author describing what should obviously be a front page story, one that is shouted from the rooftops.

While Larry and Anderson are droning on about Anna Nicole, the American government, thanks to initiatives by Rumsfeld and Cheney in 2000, is employing a private army in Iraq and New Orleans (!?!).

"So what?" you say.

This is what: This army, run entirely by a frothing-at-the-mouth right-wing Christian fundamentalist, is unanswerable. In what claims to be the world's largest democracy, a Praetorian guard, under private contract, is fighting and killing with no need to explain itself to Congress, the American people or the world.

You can also go directly to the Blackwater website here.

If you have ever had any doubts about the illegitimacy of the American presence in Iraq, this should pretty well throw you over the barbed wire fence with a big thud.

Try also this website for further examination of this nightmare.

Mark's Take - Guest Editorial

Mark Leiren-Young, the Vancouver author of, among other things, this little play called "Shylock," which I keep performing on this and other planets, has long been making fun of the madness we call "The News."

Check out his latest summary, which he files on a regular basis for www.thetyee.ca

Although...I don't know how he can claim that he is the father of Anna Nicole's baby, when we all know that Larry King is.

Rock on, Bro....

Diana Krall - Temptation : Montreal Jazz Festival 2004 Live

Here's an excellent contibution from a regular Commentator to The Berner Monologues. Hot Stuff, indeed!

Give This Man a Ticket

The Mayor claims that 75% of all drug treatment programs don't work, and therefore they should abandoned and replaced by his innovative drug substitution scheme.

However, his own initiative, the Municipal Ticket Information (in which spitters, pee-ers, poo-ers and other homeless annoyances are issued traffic tickets and required to pay fines for their sins of poverty) is an 81% failure. 176 of 217 tickets issued have not been paid.

By his own lofty standards of science and reason, shouldn't this idiocy be abandoned at once?

Oink, Oink

This chart shows how American legislators spend money. It is a pefect example of feeding your electoral district for votes.

We wait for someone to publish the Canadian version.

How Do They Do It?

For those of you who may have thought that the circus is dead and gone, forget it! Check out this fabulous story about the opening of Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey tonight at Madison Square Garden, featuring the DEATH DEFYING WHEEL OF STEEL!!!

Diana Krall - Cry Me A River

The Julie London - Barney Kessel version is deservedly considered the all time classic. HOWEVER, this one don't hurt!

Bad Humour All Round

Let me see if I understand this.

A suicidal man calls 911 for help. Help doesn't arrive for some time. The man kills himself.

Let's be clear about some basics. If a guy is determined to kill himself, sooner or later, he's bound to succeed. Doesn't matter how hard you or I try.

That does not excuse, however, a system that cannot take care of itself or people in crisis who turn to it for help. There were several communications breakdowns and errors in the human chain of non-response here.

Not the least of which was the now alleged bad jokes being made at the time by two cops who were privy to the dispatcher's calls.

But hear this. Jamie Graham, Vancouver's Chief of Police says of all this that he is worried that the officer's attitudes may reveal "a complacency, a callousness, perhaps a bad attempt at black humour that has no place in circumstances of this kind."

And right you are, Chief.

But, soft! What ghost sits on yonder wall?

Isn't this the same Chief of Police who but a few moons ago left a pistol target sheet on the desk of a female City Manager with some clever, cryptic comment about the dangers of public life?

Does the entire Force need urgently a weekend at Comedy School?

Monkey see; monkey do-do.