Friday, January 4, 2013

I, Like MacArthur, Have Returned


Back from cavorting with the family in the South Pacific, tired, but still in one piece. A good time was had by all, well, sort of.

There were, I must report, one broken toe on the part of my son Mark, the result of an over-energetic beach volleyball game, and two screaming matches involving my daughters. Indeed, Victoria and Isolde are currently not speaking to one another. This wont last -- they are polar opposites and need each other as sounding boards. Isolde has always thought Vicky's film roles to, as she put it, "supporting female victim hood in a way that bordered on the pornographic." Vicky returned with the observation that Isolde was just jealous that she didn't have a part in the TV series, "The Game of Thrones". On the other hand, I suspect Vicky herself was envious of Isolde's remarkable ability with the violin, and underlined this with her Christmas gift, bequeathing her a kazoo.

But it is not my purpose to go into details of the internecine warfare families often exhibit. For this, readers are directed to stuff written by Tennessee Williams, Harold Pinter, Anton Chekhov, or that patron saint of Wingham, Alice Munro.

The Compte de Rienville was also present (hurrah!) and added immeasurably to my enjoyment. Sadly he had to leave abruptly, however, muttering something about more Hollandaise sauce, but before he did, we had a most interesting encounter at the hotel bar with one Henry Threadneedle.

I would have thought, with that surname, that Henry was a banker, and indeed the man was a fount of information on finance. In actual fact, however, he was a first rate mathematician who had been in charge of the balance sheet at a Vegas casino. Apparently some monies had gone astray -- not Henry's fault -- and despairing of ever being given the chance to explain what he thought had occurred, decided to take flight before getting his head blown off by whatever Mafia outfit was running things.

He was also the thinnest man I'd ever encountered, and at times, when turning sideways, you'd think he disappeared. This prompted the Compte to venture the opinion that he thought there was a good chance that Henry Threadneedle had been raised by eels. In my opinion, this toying with invisibility would be a real asset in The Trade, and made a mental note to mention this to Sir Harry.

Henry's most interesting comments, however, focused on the current fiscal mess confronting much of the world, a condition he described as a very simple, very complex, problem. Simple, because the answer was patently obvious: a country, as well as an individual, should always ensure that if  obligations are undertaken, you should have the wherewithal to pay for them. Complex, because when the fiscal situation is severely out of whack, there are really only two means of addressing the imbalance -- raising taxes and curtailing spending. The former, politicians find to be easy; the latter, extraordinarily difficult, in that what the citizenry have come to expect in terms of entitlements will be reduced, or, in some cases, taken away entirely. This can result in a sure loss in the next election, lots of pots and pans on the street, and given an America armed to the teeth courtesy of the National Rifle Association, maybe something more ominous in the streets than kitchenware. Obama has his work cut out.

But let us not end on a sour note. I am happy to inform you that, in London, Ontario, Canada has won gold on the ice! Not our junior team (we wont go there) but our under 19 girls, who have captured the gold medal by defeating, and thereby dethroning, Finland by a score of 6 --2.

In Ringette.

So there.


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