As you know, we live remote.  Not so remote as to NOT have neighbours but remote enough that you can’t see ’em and only a few reside within a few miles (see pic).  In previous writings, I have opined that there is less than one person per square mile (over 250 square miles) and most people live with others (i.e. family) so there are many, many square miles uninhabited….the way it should be. In winter, the population drops precipitously.  We live remote all year but it FEELS way more so in winter.

Naturally, we modern-style OTG’ers all travel to town at some point and, despite being independent and different from one another (in so many ways), we all share a few things in common, most visibly, the community dock.  Whether you live on an island ten miles to the west, ten miles to the north or just ten miles away on the same island as I do, you use the community dock on the nearest ‘connected’ island which is our first ‘leg’ of re-entry to the grid, the city, the big-box-stores and the madding crowd. Most people use it – on average – once a month.  Do the math: 250 people, 30 days…roughly 8 boats on the dock per day.  In reality, it is more like 3 or 4 but, at busy times, it can be as much 15 or more.

We left for Victoria last week and quickly re-entered the larger madness.  What a treat that was.

Because remote taxpayers do not get much in the way of amenities or services, we are all pleased as punch with the community dock (a joint community – local government project).  Only a few short years ago, there was no dock.  There was, instead, just a community raft.  A floating raft-dock that tipped and rolled when anyone was on it served as the ‘landing’ for accessing the ‘connected island’.  That raft might accommodate two or three boats in a pinch.  The would-be shopper would tie up, then pull the raft into shore, step on land and then pull the raft back out using a clothesline-like device.

You can imagine the improvement the new dock is over that!  But, here’s the deal: because as many as sixteen boats could conceivably congregate on a heavy weekend or for a special event in town, rules were developed and one of them is that no-one can leave their vessel tied up for more than 48 hours.  That amount of time allows for an extensive town day with, perhaps, a weather-delayed return overnight allowance day.  But, if you are going to knowingly be away for more than two days, it is incumbent on the user to find a ride to get over to the dock and arrange for a ride to come back so that your vessel does not occupy valuable dock space.

Good manners also suggest that your ride over/back with the considerate neighbour does NOT oblige them to help you with your load.  They all will, of course, but we usually load our car the day prior to leaving and make sure that we are taxi-service-only coming back.

When we leave for any amount of time, we are carrying luggage, any garbage to be recycled, any returns of products, mechanical devices requiring professional repair, containers, totes and the like.  We often go to town with 200 pounds or more of crap.

Coming back, of course, is a bigger chore.  Typically we return with in excess of 500 pounds of crap.  This trip: about average.  Some of it is packaging, the aforementioned totes and luggage but the bulk is consumables of some sort, food, lumber, parts, fuel, etc.  Usually, a good portion is also fragile.  This trip we brought a couple boxes of wine and a pane of glass (and eggs).  The only limit to what we can carry is the size of the SUV and the boat.  Fortunately, it is about the same amount.

We also have a utility trailer that has, on occasion, been filled as well but that means two boat trips at the very least and we are pleased to have left those days mostly behind us.  One major schlep is enough.

This trip, our pre-arranged ride-neighbour got the days mixed up and we were destined to arrive at the dock with no transportation ready (see forlorn expression above).  That can be problematic.  So a few last-minute calls to the outer regions and we were handled.  D was available after 2:00 and G was available before 2:00.  Whenever we knew for sure what our arrival time was, we would let them know and one of them would be there. We called G and said, “1:00 pick-up, if you please.”

At 1:01, she was right there tying up her boat at the community dock.  AND she had brought our boat (towed behind) with her.  New Yorkers can’t get taxis that efficiently.

So, what is the point of this blog?  There isn’t one, really.  Just a day in the life….that kinda thing.  But it is interesting to note that our ‘neighbours’ as distant and disparate as they can be are quickly at the ready to help. It’s a good community.

………..to double down on my previous position regarding the current witch hunt for sexual harassment perps.  But, there is no point.  To cry ‘due process’ while the guy is being strung up from the nearest tree is to deny the reality of the situation.  Shut up, Dave!  Guys are gonna hang………..and the mob is huge and getting bigger…..

To be fair, I am not deluding myself into thinking completely INNOCENT GUYS are gonna hang.  Some of them will be guilty as charged.  Some of them will be half-as-guilty as charged and even the most innocent (criminally speaking) will still likely have been piggy a few times and so I guess they should all burn in hell.  I mean, why not?  Women have been mistreated for centuries and, if a few not-so-guilty’s have to pay for all of our sins, I say, let ’em burn.  T’is only fair, right?

So, despite the compulsion to speak up and defend the rights of the accused, I am no fool (well, not a complete fool, anyway).  I am done with talking due process to social media – a form of futility if ever there was one.  Ben Affleck touched a boob, GHW Bush prodded a bum, Dustin Hoffman made a pass…..and Weinstein may have raped a few….so what!  They are all the same!  PIGS!  BBQ them all!

And to think…………..I worried about Trump being unfair…………………

Seguay(sic) segue (not sic) nicely off to the next windmill that needs tilting at:

The Russia-American Election Collusion Scandal.  Oooooooh, ooooh, what’s NOT to like about that litany of implied, whispered and now formally accused by indictment allegations of wrong-doing by Trump and Friends. At least there are formal charges now and more supposedly pending.  That’s kinda good.  Kinda……but, really….to what end…?  Impeachment?  Not likely.  Not enough time.  Not enough will in Congress.  Not enough integrity and ethics to even make a dint in that Sargasso sea-sized swamp that is the ‘Merican government right now.  Methinks Trump goes all the way to 2020 but goes limping and tweeting like the castrated lame duck president he is the whole way.  I hope I am wrong.  I hope they have enough rope left over from Weinstein to hang the duck.

PROLOGUE (written a few days after the original blog) – I occasionally write something political in nature.  Mostly about actual politics but sometimes about cultural or social issues that still fall under the political category but not as much as the more common issues of partisan politics.  Sexual politics falls somewhere in between. 

I am NOT afraid of sexual politics.  Not TOO much, anyway.  It’s just that it is a topic that has been beaten to a masticated pulp over the last forty years and I am already guilty of saying the same thing over and over.  If you don’t believe that, ask yourself how many times I have suggested that the system is wonky, it may break down and that only fleeing off the grid makes any real sense?  I can be monotonous and boring.  Ask Sal.  Ask my kids.  It’s why they left home.

But, if I write anti-Trump rants I usually get a lot of comments.  If I write anti-Liberal rants, I get even more.  And, if I wrote something cultural or social I get still more.  On this topic – after three days – I have received ONLY one. 

I do NOT expect that all comments should be in agreement.  I fully expect some dissenting points to be raised if not complete rejections of the basic argument…..

But on this one?  Nada.  Zip.  Big O. 

Well, Paul stood up.  Paul commented.  Paul opined.  So NOT ‘zip’ but close-to-nada, for sure.  Anyway, Paul is as outspoken and opinionated as I am.  Maybe more.  I really expected more from others.

NO!  This is NOT a call for opinions.  Volunteer them or not.  That’s your call.  No problem.  NO OPINION is an opinion.  Even silence speaks loudly.  ESPECIALLY silence, actually!  Silence says volumes. 

I just expected more.  But many, it seems, are afraid of this topic, don’t want to disagree or see no percentage in agreeing.  Fair enough.  But doesn’t that say something to you?  Isn’t THAT also an issue?

Seems we can’t talk about this………………………..     

—————————original blog post:

The provincial NDP don’t (or don’t want to) accept males as new nominations anymore.  I honestly don’t know that to be 100% accurate but I have inquired of several NDP sources and NOT had a clear answer-back.  True or not, if it was even considered, it makes my point: Sexism/gender bias is just fine if it’s against white heterosexual men.

This is what Horgan actually said: “It does have to be a woman if a woman (MLA) steps down,” said Horgan. “But (retiring) Bill Routley, for example … it doesn’t have to be a woman there.”  But that statement at first appeared to be at odds with the NDP’s gender policy, which clearly stipulates that any departing NDP MLA must be replaced by a woman or “equity-seeking candidate”. Horgan’s office later clarified he was trying to say that a male candidate could meet the “equity-seeking” provisions, if that man was from a racial minority group, First Nation or the LGBTQ community, for example.

In other words: white, heterosexual men need not apply to replace a white, heterosexual man who is leaving.  White hetero males need not apply for ANYTHING.

Think about that…just for a minute…where is that gonna eventually lead?

Trudeau also made a point of picking females for half his cabinet thus ensuring that birth-determined genitalia were the determining factor most relevant to governing and not intelligence, ability or merit.

Presumably, alt-genitals later chosen by a candidate for reasons totally private are NOT so restrictive of political advancement and may be a plus.  Who the hell knows?

Graydon Carter the male editor of Vanity Fair is retiring but, in light of the Weinstein fiasco, the management and ownership of Conde Naste is being pressured into adding to the job description so many behavioural policies and restrictions that the only truly SAFE applicant will be female.  This, of course, is all in aid of gender neutrality.  In fact, one consultant said, “If they are smart, the top three on the shortlist should be female.”

Odd thing to say when Carter has exemplified competence and ability for 25 years.  His hormones, it seems, did not get in the way of being a good editor.

Well over 60% of the provincial and Federal government workforce is female.  The majority of those unemployed in BC are male.  But we have ministries for women’s equality and millions in grants given to women’s programs.  We are still promoting women in every position of the workforce despite the fact that they are currently in the majority (over 55% of the overall workforce is female).

Forty years ago female journalists were rare.  Now it is the opposite.

The battle for equality may not be fully won by some standards but the tide has clearly turned, the writing is etched deeply on the wall, the pendulum has swung – women have come a long way and may well be in the lead or are at least gaining fast…..it might just be time to ease off on the shrill complaints.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO NOW……..OMG. OMG. OMG!!!!!!

Part of the shrill complaints, whining, poor-me, victim-oriented ya-ya sisterhood is the sexual harassment crowd.   And they have now gone too far.  WAY TOO FAR!!!

Of course, there are real problems of rape and assault and even, to some small degree, sexual extortions that use greed and ambition to entrap but I am not talking about that.  That is wrong.  Ugly.  It should be corrected.  There are some bad boys out there.  I fully acknowledge that.  I would argue that there is an equal number of bad girls using their less-than-moral wiles but let us leave that topic sit on the shelf for now.  The topic for today is WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH US?

A 93 year old Parkinson’s patient restricted to a wheelchair and looking as frail and old as his age would suggest is accused of SEXUAL ASSAULT by three women who’s bottom he inappropriately groped.  Inappropriate?  Yes.  Bad?  A smidge, I suppose…… but, ASSAULT?  No way.  These women were young, fit, strong, surrounded by others and in public.  A bum-touch is NOT assault.  That they or anyone thinks it is, in fact, ASSAULT trivializes the word and diminishes the claims of real assault victims in so doing.  Hell, the old guy has been more assaulted than they were.

I have written about the need for due process in the Weinstein case for much the same reason.  These hysterical and insane accusations are ruinous and way more damaging than the crime in many cases (yes….now is the time to do yet another disclaimer that states once again that real rape and real assault are real problems).  Harvey Weinstein has over 40 women claiming all sorts of things but chief amongst them is assault.  If that (the example of 93-year-old ex-pres GHWBush) is the definition of assault they are using, he has already overpaid his debt to all.  In fact, he may be innocent of most charges.

The women’s movement does not see the cognitive dissonance that argument invokes.  How can you claim to be equal, empowered, liberated, capable and competent at the same time as saying you were victimized by a 93-year-old, wheel-chair bound, Parkinson’s sufferer?  Because he touched your well-clad bum in a public setting?  How can you claim to be so equal when you can’t dissuade or deter the unwanted actions of an old lech?  (yes….now is the time to do yet another disclaimer that states once again that real rape and real assault are real problems).

If you can’t say NO and say it loud and mean it, if you can’t say no because you actually want the guy’s wallet more than you want your dignity, if you can’t make no ‘stick’ with the time-honoured slap across the face or martini thrown, then maybe you truly are a victim-in-waiting and maybe we all DO need to rush to your aid.  Like we would a child.  Fair enough.  If that is the case (as it seems), I’ll be there.

But don’t then tell me how equal and empowered and capable you are…because YOU ARE NOT!

As you know, we get about by boat.  And, as you also know, we live at the water’s edge.  Those two elemental facts result in our having an intimate relationship with the elements.  Especially water.  We KNOW water.  And it is about knowing water that I write today.  Today, Sal got up close and personal with our local water.  She got fully baptized.  Again.

I have written about my falling in and how, at times, that kind of accident was funny (oyster cum covering) and how, at other times, it was life-threatening (propellor-head).  But falling in is not peculiar to just me.  We all fall in.  Sal, too.

Sal?  Well, Sal has her own style.  It’s rarely dangerous.  Sal does it like Lucille Ball would do it.  It’s slapstick.  It’s hilarious.  Every time.

Once, as she was alighting her little whaler, I saw her take a confident stride right off the dock and onto the middle of her boat.  Very adroit.  Unfortunately, her head was not so much in the game and she followed that purposeful stride with an exact copy and strode right off the other side.  Not so much as a hesitation.  Looked like a short march.  It was if she simply saw the boat as a stepping stone.  As I helped pull her out of the water, I asked her what had happened.  “I don’t know.  I just kept walking.  Next thing you know, I am underwater.  Strangest thing”

And good ol’ Sal has been immersed a few times over the years. It happens.  Each time kinda funny and weird.  Well, funny for me, anyway.  For Sal?  Not so much.  But, to be fair, after the first shocking minute, she bounces right back and the impromptu bath does not deter her or dampen her mood.  She’s great that way.

Today was no exception.  And today was also elemental.  Our water system stopped flowing and Sal was heading up country to clear the intake and check for problems.  To do that, she first has to boat into the bay, anchor off and step carefully onto slimy rocks that give her stepping stones to the shore.  You guessed it….. the boat went back, the feet went to the rocks….the step did not go as planned and Sal went in.  She flustered and blustered her way to shore, climbed back into the boat and, like a drowned rat, came home.

“I am gonna do the water system tomorrow.”

She took a warm shower, hung up her rain gear and turned her boots upside down and placed them near the fire.  She’s quilting now.

Hmmmmmm…………………was that some sort of Machiavellian plan to quickly get back to quilting….?

Epilogue  l

Sal went back to finish the job yesterday.  She succeeded.  Water is flowing again.

“I’ll do an epilogue, Sal.  Any story to add to the first one?”

“Well…….there was………I wasn’t going to tell you……..”

“Tell me.”

“I tied a long line to the boat and went ashore to tie it off.  I was tugging on it as I was tying the boat to a big rock when the line went slack.  I looked up and the line I had tied to the boat had come undone.  The boat was going to float away.  NOT away, away but it would swing on its stern anchor and would sit out in the bay even deeper than it was.  I was convinced I’d have to swim for it when I got done.”

“So?  What did you do?”

“I thought that I was going to get wet again no matter what.  Better to get wet on my way home rather than at the start of the chore.  So, I ignored it and went to fix the pipeline.”

“But you weren’t soaked when you got home….?”

“I know.  Even tho the tide was ebbing, the boat remained where it was and, as the tide went out, the approach to it just got shallower.  I waded out to it.  No problem!”

“Too bad.  I don’t want to see you soaked again but I would love to have written about it.”

“You still can…..just don’t use my name.”

———————————-    Epilogue  ll  ———————————————————–

Guess where Sal is?  Yep.  You guessed it………hiking the back forty in yet another effort to make the water flow.  It stopped running again today and Sal set her little face to determined, got dressed up in all her slogging gear and, with extra tools, headed once again uphill to fight gravity.  Seems water won’t flow downhill for her.  This is a physics battle writ large.  Fierce warriors don’t always look as committed to the battle as does our Sal.  You go, girl!

“So, I’ve been thinking about this water challenge you are facing and……”

“I do not want to hear it!”

“You do not know what I am going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter.  I know what I am doing.  And I am the one doing it and you can just keep your stupid opinions to yourself.”

“Stupid?”

“OK, sorry.  Well, not really.  I am really just sorry they are likely to be stupid but, you are right, I have to hear them before I can then yell shut up.”  

“Gawd, you are mature, you know that?”

“SHUT UP!”  

I am currently sitting in the Sadists chair.  Each failed attempt at making the water flow, while tragic for our Sal, slightly amuses me.  I know, I know, it shouldn’t.  That’s really just stupid and petty of me and sexist and racist and patronizing and chauvinistic and ageist not to mention nasty and naughty and beneath contempt and childish and awful.  Still……..

“I was just thinking that it was likely the pick-up and likely the problem you suggested last time…..the pick-up may just be sitting too low….?”

” (mumble, mumble……….%^%!@^$$@#…..mumble, mumble……)”

“What was that…..?”

“Never mind.  NEVER MIND!  I AM GONNA GO FIX THAT %$%$%#@!(*^%#)*(&%%#$@ PIPE OR DIE TRYING NOW JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!”

“OK sweetie.”

This might be a good time to mention that I twisted my knee and am currently wearing a brace that totally limits movement.  Over a week so far.  Of course, that is NOT really it – the watercourse is really just Sal’s thing.  She’s better at climbing and such even at the best of times and so it is a chore that she has taken ownership of and I am happy to let it go.  It is not dangerous.  It is not technical.  Although she can do that, too.  It is basically quite simple: water runs downhill for most people.  Even Sal most of the time.  Put a pipe in a stream and water comes out at the bottom.  Chimps can do it.  But Murphy plays havoc amongst all the primates and none of us (Bonzo, too) can escape his devilish ways.  For some reason, Sal has found a rip in the time-space continuum where water no longer seems to flow downhill.  While she treks about in the forest, I have a call into Stephen Hawking.  She may be nicer to him.

The Kurds want independence.  So do the Catalonians in Spain.  Now the Italians up in the north want to separate.  Sheesh.

Brexit was also a form of separation.  Admittedly not in a conventional way but close.  The Brits were part of a united economic organization (the EU) and they opted out on an entirely visceral basis.  No real logic.  Just gut feel.  And they weren’t even first.  First there was Greece.  Maybe the failed EU partners of Ireland, Iceland and Portugal a few years back….now they are all called the PIIGS (Portugal, Ireland, Italy, Greece and Spain) but it means the same, “We want out!’

The division in the US is, of course, mostly along party lines but, to some extent, they describe it as Red versus Blue states…..it’s division of some kind.  Trump rides on division and separation.  He is a divisive force in everything he says and stands for.  Doesn’t like the UN.  NAFTA.  Anything. Wants rid of foreigners.  Wants rid of NATO.  Fires his staff.  Doesn’t like his neighbours.

Then there’s North Korea.  NOT content to sit in the back row any longer, it is now asserting it’s independence in a nuclear way.  Hong Kong is trying to reassert it’s independence from totalitarian China (good luck).  And on and on it goes.  Even the Phillipines is raising it’s ugly little Duterte head as being MORE independent than ever.

Ooooohhhhh and the battle of the sexes is also heating up.  It’s like Aetna…always warm, sometimes hot.  And sometimes verging on eruption.  Feels a bit like that right now.

There are other divisions, too.  The economic haves and the have-nots.  The Black Lives Matter.  Occupy.  First Nations.  White Supremacy (an oxymoron if ever there was one).  It’s getting more divided out there folks.  Branding.  Labelling.  Prejudice.  Discrimination.  We seem more focused on what separates rather than what unites.  I dunno…..that seems to be the message I am hearing.

Sheeeeesh……even the planet is doing it.  HUGE chunk of Antartica left the building.  The Artic melting into a cool lagoon every summer.  Flooding.  Earthquakes.  Alternative energy moving out coal and oil…..

If you were not willing to ‘feel’ change as described in the last blog, maybe you SEE change in the form of ‘separatism’ as it is being manifest in the world today…?

No?  Well, that’s good.  GOOD for you!  If you feel that we are all in this together and we have to work it out as we go with respect and recognition for one another then I urge you to run for office or, at the very least, seek counselling.  That is NOT the current prevailing view, I think.  NOT in the least.

Some dickheads have even moved away!

1. Grandson born.  Healthy and happy.  Cute as a bug’s ear.  Mom and Dad doing fine.  Truly a beautiful thing……
2. Sally and I still chugging along.  Healthy-ish and happy.  Together 47 years and all of it bliss (for me).  Sal says “50/50 ain’t bad”. I’d sign up for another fifty years in a heartbeat.  Sally non-committal.  But we’re talkin’- I may have to sweeten the pot….  ……….also a beautiful thing.
3. No power outages in fifteen years.  No water restrictions.  No roadblocks.  No line-ups.  Hard to have a traffic accident when you don’t drive…..
4. No traffic jams in fifteen years either (out here, anyway).  No bridge tolls.  Less driving stresses.  Don’t have to watch my life pass in front of me as I sit at a screen.
5. No sirens ever.  Generally blissfully quiet.
6. total lack of intrusive TV screens or ‘announcements’ everywhere (what a blessing)
7. Most frequent visitors: whales, ravens. seals and herons.
8. Little to NO life-style related stress either (trying to make money, keep to schedules, obey rules, meet deadlines).
9. Everywhere I look, it’s beautiful.
10. No gangs.  No shootings.  No crime.  No drug addicts.  No homeless.  No police screaming or shooting.  The most authoritarian behaviour is from the ferry loading crew (who are actually great).
11. Fewer bills of any kind.  No real financial pressures.
12. Less government intrusion.
13. Friendly neighbours.
14. Variety and interest in everyday activities.  No boredom.  Motorcycle running.
15. Fantastic seafood, natural and self-grown food.  Great meals.  Clean air.
16. Schedule set by the season, not by the minute.

It’s all good.  Real good.  But I’ve been thinking a lot…..things are ‘up in the air’ for me……I see CHANGE coming.  I see change already here.  The crooked Liberals are out of government but the nincompoop NDP are in.  Politics everywhere is getting worse.  Trump is like a dystopian, nightmare-kinda-change agent already happening but Mexico is going all to Hell-in-a-handbasket as well.  Trudeau is a shirt-less lightweight leading by cliche.  Central America being taken over by drug cartels.  Russia looming.  Europe struggling.  China is quietly invading Canada by economic means – they are simply purchasing it.

Canada’s current economy is looking good (which is a change) but is threatened by our friendly neighbour to the south (which is another change – they used to be dominant and selfish but not mean and crazy).  North Korea looms as another large and deadly change-agent. Immigration is rapidly changing the cultural landscape.

First Nations are the sanest voice in the country.

Age is now an issue for me.  Me being 70 is officially old.  That will bring changes for me.  Already has.

Bottom line: I am still living in interesting times.  And ‘what to do about it’ still comes up for me.  What, exactly, am I supposed to do about it?

Well, we have established a beautiful, wonderful home-base.  That’s good.  We have friends and family.  That’s great.  We are not deprived in any way and so that is HUGE.  And we are happy and healthy.  So, WE are taken care of…….

And we are here for them……so, THEY are also taken care of to a large extent if Teotwawki or the Zombie Apocolypse happens (which it likely will someday).

But is that enough?  Is that life in its entirety?  No.  No, it is not.  So we have added writing books and travelling to the recipe and that helps…..but is it enough…..? 

No.  Those ‘fun’ additions are for us.  There is something more to be done.  And that is why I am writing….I feel change coming on….I feel as if I have to respond to it – whatever it is.  I feel we still have ‘work’ to do for others while here….like building community or protesting evil or working towards something……

…..anyone else feel this weirdness?  Anyone know what the hell I am talking about?

I have to write this.  I’ll likely get killed by many readers (thank God I only have a few!).  But I have to write this because for evil to be done, good people need only do nothing.  And sexual politics is going too far (in my opinion).  A massive double standard is emerging.  I could write books on this and a lot of it would go against prevailing mood and opinion.  Bottom line: the sexes are equal.  Different.  But equal.  Yin and Yang battle constantly.  It is the way of things. 

But….what prompted this blog? 

Real justice is a difficult thing.  And, because of that, we have laws and processes.  Clearly we need them.  Harvey Weinstein is a case in point.

Weinstein is innocent.  At least until the allegations are proven, he is.  And, make no mistake, all the accusations are still at the allegation stage.  He is innocent until proven guilty.

There have been no investigations (other than a brief one by the New York police who didn’t pursue it due to lack of evidence) and, as yet, no actual charges have been laid. Due and impartial process has not been followed and, further, he has claimed innocence in all accusations.   

But Harvey Weinstein has already lost his job, his status as a movie mogul, his friends, his wife and his standing in the Motion Pictures Academy, all on heresay.  He has been condemned and sentenced.  No proof.  The man has been tarred and feathered in the court of public opinion and convicted and punished without so much as a stitch of evidence or a minute of due process.

This is worse than the crimes he is accused of.

“How can you say that, Dave?  He is accused of gross pigginess in almost every case and, at least once, he is accused of indecent exposure.  One woman has even alleged rape!”

Until it is proven, he is innocent.  That’s the way the law is supposed to work and that is the way it should work.  Even if Weinstein is 100% guilty of everything (other than rape), the price he has paid so far is still greater than the law would prosecute for anyway.  You don’t go to jail for pigginess.  You don’t even go to jail for pussy-grabbing.  Or forced-kissing.  Just ask Donald Trump.  The President of the United States.

This convicting of people in social media makes a travesty of law and a mockery of justice.  It is all so completely unfair.  The accuser is often condemned by the supporters of the accused.  The accused is completely ruined simply by the allegations.  It’s a kangaroo court of the worst kind.  Unproven public accusations serve no one.

We have seen the gross injustices of sexual harassment and even sexual assault and we have written laws with which to deal with it.  These laws, when applied in a proper trial, have yielded some surprising results including unjust convictions. So, even with diligent due process, unfairness can result.  How could anyone think that it is fairer to dispense with the process?  Improve it, maybe.  But you need to be fair to both parties from the very start.  Unless facts mean nothing to you, then process must be served.  Weinstein is not getting that.

Neither are the alleged victims.

But let’s be fair, for a minute . . . let’s be human, anyway.  Realistic.  When almost thirty women come forward and make these allegations, most everyone believes it.  And why shouldn’t we?  Thirty women wouldn’t lie, now, would they?

I’ll leave that question alone for a minute (a long minute) but I will go so far as to say that none of the accusations surprises me.  Harvey is kinda piggy-looking.  He lacks what Brad Pitt and George Clooney have, that’s for sure.  Always has and always will.  But he has money.  Harvey didn’t get to swim in the gene pool without paying for it.  He was a make-a-career movie executive and starlets wanted careers.  Power corrupts.  People sell out.  Harvey was buying.  Some may have sold.  Harvey may have used power and money to stand in for good lucks and charm.  He would not be the first.

Moreover, there is perspective.  It all could have happened just as they said (intimidation).  Mind you, it could have happened just as he said, too (deal-making).  “It was consensual!”

I believe them both.  Harvey may have used coercion and money and they wanted the money and fame but felt pressured in the process.  Given that Harvey is a piggy, he might have employed what resources he had to swim in the gene pool – money and coercion.  He wanted sex.  They wanted career.  Not a pretty picture but not a new one either.

Everyone would like the world to be nice and Disney-esque.  No one wants that more than me.  But the truth is, it is NOT Disneyesque, it is also somewhat primal and layered with deceit.  Both sides.

But do I really think he is innocent of the allegations?  No.  Not really.  I have my suspicions.  Based on nothing but my ignorant, biased stereotypes and the heresay in the media, I am willing to believe he displayed piggy behaviour and paid money to get away with it.  All in an effort to get laid.  Disgusting.  Ugh.  But, is it a crime to approach a woman with the goal of having sex?  No.  Is it legislated that one must be good looking and polite and charming to make such an effort?  No.  Is it a law that you can’t tempt and bribe your way into the sack?  No.  And have not both genders used what they had to get what they wanted since the beginning of time?  Yes.  So except for bad manners and disgusting behaviour, what law was actually broken?

Don’t get me wrong.  Harvey could be a very nasty piece of work – like they say – and, if so, he should be punished.  But first let’s have due process to determine his guilt and, more to the point, exactly what he is guilty of.  Is Harvey guilty of anything worse than what the president of the United States has admitted to and bragged about?

And, if he is guilty as we all suspect of something punishable by law, then shouldn’t the law be involved and the eventual punishment fit the crime?

But here is the main point in all of this:  What are we doing?  The politically correct society sitting in judgment without a scintilla of proof–what does that make us?  Are we not also guilty of some form of harassment?  Some form of bullying?  Are we not guilty of unjust persecution?  Are we not guilty of similar behaviours as the ones Harvey is accused of–using our collective power and influence to make someone suffer for our own entertainment?

If anyone reads this as a defense of Harvey, they are mistaken. It is a defence of due process.  It is also a defence of fairness, perspective and a brief reference to real life versus the Disney version.

Our first grandchild was born in Victoria in the very early hours a few days ago.  He weighed a bit under eight pounds but was clearly looking to add to that as soon as he could.  He was already communicating hungry.  He was busy sleeping between meals but, during the brief interval between waking and chowing down, he showed a remarkable array of other talents and great intelligence.  Amazing for a ten-hour-old.  Clearly some kind of prodigy.  We are convinced he is an athletic genius in the making – albeit from less than three minutes of observation when he was awake.  But, you know what they say, ‘You only have one chance to make a first impression’ and he did.  I admit that I was impressed.    

And not just by his incredibly good looks.  This kid is really handsome!  Most babies look like raisins-morphing into Winston Churchill-look-alikes but this kid is suave, cool, debonair and beautiful.  Plus his nose is perfect and his little face is already quite expressive. And he is not reticent to throw his little fists around either.  He punches the air like a tiny Muhammed Ali.  Ten hours old and I felt like we were sympatico.  I have a new friend. 

The blog title is Little Mystery Man because I am not posting pictures of him on the blog.  The parents prefer NOT to make ‘Tyke’ famous just yet.  I respect that decision.  More and more social media is seeming like a tool for the mad and insane.  See: Carrot-in-Chief.  

But the adults in this picture are already etched deeply into the ‘cloud’ and so here we are……

Three Generations

Sal and I left paradise on the 30th.  Headed south in anticipation of our first grandchild’s arrival. And, as a bonus, to help out with Sal’s elderly parents (90’s), one of whom just had surgery.  Weather was good. The drive down island was easy……we were basically relaxed and ready for ‘family’.

We are very fortunate, the southern branch of our family is pretty sane and pleasant. Not all family is.  Some are nuts (don’t get me started).  But this was gonna be good. We were happy.

It is now Thursday and in less than a week I am already a nervous, bloody wreck.  Sal is not 100% either.  She contracted some kind of lethal cold on day one and, of course, I (the innocent bystander) am now congested collateral damage. Good weather did not translate into good health.  We are a smidge under the weather but, really, we are not wusses and that alone did not do us in.

Grandchild is still pending, clinging like Velcro to comfort, warmth and regular dine-in meals – clearly not ready to jettison the pod just yet.  Every day adds a bit of intensity.  I am highly susceptible to all things obstetric and find myself vibrating at a higher frequency as the days go by.  Sal and DIL (daughter-in-law) are fine but son is a bear.  I don’t blame him. After all, it is all his fault. And he’s feeling responsible.  That’s a good thing.  Me?  I’m just a nut! 

I figured I would look around for a new boat while I was down here but an interesting phenomena is being revealed to me.  Old people are slowly being eased out of the marketplace and, after awhile, inflation-creep and cost of living passes them by….they are ‘out of sync’ with the rest of the world.  I am old and now out of sync.  No longer hip.

What I think should cost $8.00 – I then adjust for the ‘creep’ to allow me to rationalize $10.00 – the ‘seller’ is asking $14.00 and is prepared to accept $12.00.  But that $2.00 difference is a kind of generational/market/rat-race/different-era value-gap that makes both of us feel we can’t go further in the deal.

I feel as if I have stretched as far as my ego and wallet will allow and the younger seller (whose ego is always larger but who also has a huge debt load) feels that they have dropped as far as they can, too.  So, shopping for big items is made more difficult. Small items, of course, are mostly absorbed/ignored/accepted even tho the percentage is the same.  A $20.00 hamburger seems almost normal to me now.  C’mon…..?!  A TWENTY DOLLAR BURGER!!!

(Breathe, breathe, breathe……..drink heavily later……..)

And then some dickhead shoots 500 people in Las Vegas, Trump disses the hurricane-damaged victims of Puerto Rico, Kim Jong Un disses Trump and Trudeau continues to play silly-pants in Canada.  Is it any wonder I am getting more tense?

Of course, this is the way it is now.  The new way.  Up is down, lies are different kinds of facts and the safest place to be in the city is on the ground and ON THE GROUND NOW!  Politics is mad, the media is suspect, the cost of living is officially low when the real cost of living is obviously so high that most people under forty can’t even afford a modest home. Large numbers of people can’t afford their own cars or gasoline but still buy illicit drugs (and die) and that,too, is being touted as the new normal.  No one can afford to live in Vancouver anymore unless they have shares in a money-laundering scheme and I left paradise for all this!

How crazy is that?

“So, is it all work and no play out there, Dave?  Is OTG life just management and labour all the live-long day?” 

Well, yes and no.  If, by ‘play’ you mean casinos and dancing and party girls, then unfortunately not – no playing.  But, if you mean enjoying your everyday work so that it seems less like work and somewhat more like play, then yes.  Yes, we have a good time.  Plus, we do ‘play’ in the conventional sense a bit.  Wine and dinner parties mostly. Sometimes a bit more.  And it is that kinda play I am writing about today.

I like to build crap and, of course, not being very good at it, I have lots of off-cuts.  Plus, Sal likes to salvage wood and, if the wood is old, sea-washed milled wood, she is especially pleased.  “Sweetie, I found this old lump of crap in the sea this morning.  Can you make something?”

I always say no.  “No, sweetie-back-at-ya, I cannot make anything out of that crap.  I can barely make anything out of store-bought wood bought especially for the purpose. That stuff is pretty ugly and has barnacles on it for Gawd’s sake!”

“Well, I am gonna put it under the shed here and, when the mood strikes, see what you can do.  OK?”

There is a lot of junky wood under the shed.

But, one day, the mood did strike.  Don’t ask why.  No idea.  I made a dog.  It was a pretty dopey dog but it was kinda fun.  I gave it away.  And then I made a few more dogs and gave them away.  Then people hinted they wanted dogs…so I made a few more.

Then I made a turtle.  Then a bear (NOT to be confused with a pig).

The Bear/Pig

Now I am gonna make a moose.

Moose Parts

“Why, Dave?  Maybe you should give the casino-thing a try.  Dancing girls is almost a sure thing.  Wine, women and song, man!  What’s not to like and…… well, ……little wooden dogs…ya know…kinda sad…..pathetic…”

I know.  But the wood is here and it is free.  The dancing girls are not.

Anyway, I expanded the repertoire to the odd bit of furniture.  Some crude-built things a bit more practical but still fun….in an impractical sorta way.

Is this stuff fun?  Yeah.  Woo hoo!

Kinda.  Don’t ask.  I don’t get it.

But I like to see my bear when I go outside.  I like to see my turtle at my neighbour’s house.  It’s weird.  But kinda fun.