SCOTT’S HARDWARE DELIVERS CHRISTMAS AFTER ALL

I knew when I saw the boys working in the window, there was going to be trouble.

The calendar had just turned, and the march towards Christmas was on.  Yet it wasn’t.  Because the window at Scott’s Hardware in Renfrew was still decidedly not Christmasy in appearance, which was pretty odd because Scott’s has an iconic Christmas window, one known far and wide, a fixture along Renfrew’s main drag.

But on this day, nothing.  Except the two employees, Connor and Jackson, rifling through some boxes in the window, Connor holding up a forlorn Santa who didn’t look as happy as the one at the mall.

“Jeff, what’s up with the window?” was the best I could come up with as I passed by on my Saturday morning walk.  Jeff Scott is the owner of the place, the guy who’s been setting up a fabulous chunk of Christmas in his store window for years.  I guess I just figured he’d know what I was asking about, and I was right, he did.

He told me that he felt a little tired this time out, that maybe he didn’t have it in him to put up the beautiful display that I’ve seen at this location for the thirty plus years that I’ve lived in this place.  I still remember my first Christmas in Renfrew, and part of that memory was the window at Scott’s.  It just gave you that ultimate warm feeling of what Christmas is all about.  It was wonderful.  

And now he’s talking about not putting it up at all.

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SMALL TOWN ELITES

Honestly, they’re just people, no different from you and I.

If all goes right, they wake up in the morning blessed with a new day.  Some get the kids ready before hustling them off to wherever it is the kids go for the day.  Some take out the trash before heading to work, because it’s, well, Tuesday.  Some get up earlier because that new hair straightener from Amazon was on the step yesterday when they got home.  A few wake up crusty, regretting those last few drinks that had them crawling into bed mere hours before and now crawling out of bed looking for the Tylenol.

It’s all pretty normal stuff, the kind of life tapestry that’s unfolding all around as others do the same things more or less, except for the night shift folks, who I won’t talk about because they wreck my narrative.

People, getting a start to their day, one foot after the next, inexorably leading to wherever it is they themselves go for the day.  Almost an old-school Norman Rockwell feel to it.

Some work for others, some work for themselves.  Some are part of the workforce, some provide jobs for that workforce.  Some have their own businesses, some own their own businesses with storefronts along the downtown corridor.  Some work for the public sector, most for the private.  And every single one of them, a lot of them anyway, are salt of the earth types, the people you see at Walmart or No Frills or Timmies, or the rink on a Saturday morning.  Their kids mix with yours, they mix with you, and it’s all a beautiful tableau of everyday life here in The Valley.

What could possibly upset all this, and transform these very same people into something less than a beautiful slice of everyday life?

Giving them a faint sniff of something they mistake for power.  That’ll do it almost every time.

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NAPANEE AND NAMING RIGHTS: A CONTRAST IN STYLE AND CONTENT

No document is a perfect document, so I’ll not suggest this is the one. But I do offer it up as a contrast to the document, or lack thereof, that governs naming rights here in Renfrew.

Sure, we have text that deals with the topic. Some of it enclosed in the Third Party Report, some of it more recent, some buried somewhere in a less than functional website, all of it subject to my criticism.

But we’re not the only place in the world building or expanding recreation centres, and you don’t have to look far down the road to see examples of how others have gone about the same business.

So I enclose, for your perusal, a copy of the Naming Rights document for the Town of Greater Napanee.

Again, anybody can pick anything apart, but I do have to say that there are a lot of elements in this document that could better inform us here in Renfrew than perhaps how we’ve been “informed” in the past, both recent and distant.

NAMING AND SPONSORHIP RIGHTS AT MA-TE-WAY: WHO GETS WHAT, HOW, WHEN, AND FOR HOW MUCH?

The bonanza is on.

The Town of Renfrew is in the business now of selling naming rights to anything that doesn’t move, and really, if you count the ice-resurfacer at Ma-Te-Way, things that do move as well.  Just don’t get your eyes on that ice-resurfacer just yet, because I think somebody might have scooped you on that.

But fear not, perhaps in the future, rolling stock like snowplows and public works trucks may be up for sponsorship, along with park benches, various un-spoken-for rooms at Ma-Te-Way, perhaps even the waste receptacle at the Dog Park.  For pennies on the dollar, you could adorn such a receptacle with the name, perhaps even the image, of your worst enemy.

But before you start coming up with a short-list of enemies, you’d do well to understand that these naming/sponsorship rights are to be awarded on a first-come-first serve basis, yet the Town attempts to cover itself by claiming it has the right to reject any applicant for any number of vaguely defined reasons.

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MFIPPA: A JOKE THAT’S NO LAUGHING MATTER

After taking a second look at the MFIPPA document — Municipal Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act — I feel about as ready as I can be to offer commentary with the attached proviso that in no way am I suggesting said commentary is an exhaustive and thorough exercise.  I do, however, feel comfortable enough in concluding that the points and examples I bring forward are more or less translatable to the entire document, and thereby serve as an honest interpretation or representation of the Act as a whole.

Remember that lawyers fight about this stuff all the time, so if there’s disagreement around my interpretation, then fair game as far as I’m concerned.

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IT’S TIME FOR TRUDEAU TO WALK THAT PLANK

For me to have no response at all would be telling, and it would be telling the wrong thing, and as much as I would prefer to just look away from a serious train wreck, I can’t just let it stand.

So I’ll be brief —if such is possible — and just say it.

The prime minister must, unequivocally, resign.

So, way to go, Steve for saying something that thousands upon thousands had already been saying.  Good of you to finally get on the bus.  

I know full well there are plenty of people about who don’t give a rat’s ass about what I may think on just about anything.  I’ll even extend that to most people, maybe even all people.

But I do.  I give a rat’s ass about what I think.  It’s important to me, and the way I view my personal integrity.

This is no longer about fancy socks and haircuts.  It’s no longer about his feminism, woke-ism, virtue signalling and all the rest of it.

This is about leadership, stewardship, and good governance, both in terms of policy and people.  And a failure in each of those critical aspects.

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TRUMP GETS STUFF DONE BY DOING NOTHING

I don’t know how to say this.

I have a new-found appreciation for Donald Trump.  No, wait, I didn’t say that.

I have a new-found respect for Donald Trump.  Hell no, I didn’t say that either.

So what am I trying to say?

How about this?  The man has had more effect as president than just about most other presidents, and he’s not even the president.  It’s absolutely bizarre how many things are in a fire-drill frenzy just because this guy mouths off on his Truth Social platform.

Entire nations tremble.  The leaders of those nations fall all over themselves to get inside the arc of his punches, including our own prime minister.  Look at those pictures from Mar-A-Lago.

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A CAT GETS SAVED

At last!

After carping and moralizing and preaching and generally blowing out significant amounts of hot air over transgressions, omissions, and failings here, there, and everywhere, I have something to share that actually makes me feel good.

My loyal followers in Nigeria are probably well-familiar with my penchant for criticizing and ridiculing a local radio station for their “cat stuck in tree” attempts at superficial and self-congratulatory journalism. After all, I like to view myself as someone who covers news with depth, with insight, and pithy little observations around serious news, which by its very nature, is often bad news.

But for the record, I’ll always be cheering for that cat in the tree and anyone trying to get it down.  Despite being a moralizing prick, I have my soft spots and moments of tenderness.

Down in Toronto, in the middle of rush hour, completely full-on downtown where the Jays play, a drama played out that made me feel good about people, which, in all honesty, I should do more of because I truly believe that most of us are well-meaning and conscientious.

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JORDAN PETERSON TO MOVE TO THE STATES

It was over my morning coffee today that I received the heavy news that Jordan Peterson was moving to the United States.

What are we to do?  How are we to cope?  From where will we get our direction?

Peterson, as you may know, is a hack psychologist that rose to fame over his refusal to use the preferred pronouns of those in the LGBTQ++ community who demanded such.  So, almost predictably, he became a lightning rod for those who loathe that sort of thing, of which there are many.

So that maverick Peterson became a champion for those opposed to woke-ism, virtue signalling, and the Trudeau government and those bloody socks they wear.  In fact, the whole thing has made him rich.

He actually has a product line complete with merch.  Sort of reminds me of the Great Agent Orange, also in America, who delights in animating the masses with pom-pom statements that get everyone running around and losing their shit.  Also making a killing in the merchandise department.

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MFIPPA: WHERE TOWN INFORMATION GOES TO DIE

This morning I read the Municipal Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act.

Then I took two extra-strength Tylenol.

Listen, if you’ve got absolutely nothing to do this Friday night, and I mean absolutely nothing to do, then you might want to nestle into your favourite chair, choose a libation that fits the mood — none that would come to mind, unless you had several of said libation —give the dog at your feet a couple of encouraging head-pats, and dig into this document.  If you felt there was nothing on television before all of this, I assure you you’ll change your mind once you start getting into it.

If you have a family member you absolutely detest but that familial protocol dictates you get them something as a stocking stuffer, print this thing out, wrap a pretty bow around it, and stick it in there.  Same for office parties where there’s a Secret Santa kind of thing going on.  If you got Bill from accounting, here’s your chance to really throw a f**k into his Christmas.

I now feel I’ve got a deeper appreciation for the intransigence that town staff, well some of them anyway, have for not being open with information.  For showing the public the hand when the public makes a request for information.  For going into closed meetings to conduct their backroom machinations away from any prying eyes that might upset their apple cart.

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