Tuesday 11 June 2013

Let us weep (June 12 column)


Let us weep with the anger and joy of government cuts
 

                                                            by Robert LaFrance

 

            It would be funny if it weren’t so sad, annoying, and ludicrous. The provincial government hires consultants (at who knows how many tens of millions of dollars) to find savings in the Department of Health and they identify $236 million or some such figure.

            First of all, isn’t that why we pay our own (bless ‘em!) high-level bureaucrats zillions of dollars in salary? Aren’t THEY supposed to be running things at maximum efficiency? Isn’t that why we pay for their fact-finding trips to New Zealand and Norway?

            That $236 million is going to be found in individual hospitals, and my grandmother wears Super-Ked army boots to bed. I get the feeling that the figure was picked off a tree by the government when it should have stayed in the orchard.

            One of the points was that hospital cafeterias in New Brunswick cost $30 per patient to operate, while in Quebec they cost $10. Hmmmm. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the billions of dollars in extra subsidies that Ottawa sends to Quebec each year to calm the separatists, would it? Are those consultants really that naïve? Apparently.

            “It will impact staffing levels,” said one government bureaucrat, “but services will remain the same.” Yes, I seem to remember hearing that same tired refrain before, like every time any government cuts any services.

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            Let us leave that subject and go to Belgium.

Many people I know are all atwitter about the Stanley Cup playoffs. They have evidently forgiven the greedy owners and players for the lockout/strike that chopped off the first few months of the season, and now they’re settling down to the Armageddon among U.S. hockey teams.

            I’m not going to talk about the Stanley Cup Playoffs. I am referring to – or ‘making reference to’– as many people insist on saying these days – the Warfarin Cup in Belgium. A manufacturer of pet food – I believe the stuff is fed to rats – is sponsoring a competition among professional teams there for a top prize of that cup and 50,000 Swiss francs for each player on the winning team. A team from Brussels is leading the final, three games to one. Just a side note: It’s curious that the headquarters of the European Union – lots of Mike Duffys there – is in the same city as a maker of rat food.

            “Bob, you do realize that Warfarin is mouse and rat poison, don’t you?” said Flug.

            Ahem, well, yes, of course.

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            Each of us has a list of things we’d like to see invented, do we not? As I look at the six spoiled items I just found in the back of the fridge, it occurs that a Lazy Susan (a name my cousin Susan hates for some reason) would be a great thing to have in a refrigerator.

            Possibly some fridge manufacturers do include this item, but our old Maytag doesn’t have that feature. Here’s why it is a vital one: after we have spent our hard-earned dollars in buying things like cottage cheese, they usually get pushed to the back of the fridge. Three months later, after the neighbours have reported a stronger than usual stench coming from our house, we take a look.

            Take this morning for example; I know that the turnip I just took out of the back of the vegetable tray was put there no later than Jean Chretien’s second term as prime minister. It was wizened and it was the colour of the Mediterranean Sea. “It’s not all spoiled,” I said to my spouse. “I could cut off a piece at one end and put it in a stew.” Some people don’t appreciate humour.

            That Lazy Susan would be a good idea though, and would save us untold (I’m not telling) dollars in grocery bills. The problem is, as I have mentioned, that once some foods go into the fridge, they are blocked from view and therefore forgotten until the neighbours call.

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            My late mother’s sister is cursed with a name that sometimes gets a severe reaction. It’s Semetik. Last month she was walking along the sidewalk in Ottawa when she got ‘caught short’ as the saying goes, and had to dash into a nearby hotel to use the washroom. Unknown to her, her nephew Sigfreid was the desk clerk, and when he saw his aunt coming out of the washroom, practically hollered: “Auntie Semetik!”

            That’s all right so far, but mingling in the lobby and waiting for the annual meeting of Ottawa B’Nai Brith to begin were about 30 members of that organization which is a ‘Jewish advocacy and community volunteer service organization’ as they say on their web page. The lobby went silent, because what these jewish people heard was “anti-semetic” and they had had enough of that over the past few centuries.
 
            To use a phrase Desi Arnaz used to say to his wife Lucy, of ‘I love Lucy’ fame, Sigfreid had “some ‘splainin’ to do”. Now, there’s a family movement to change auntie’s name to something safe, like GorillaJaws.
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