tamil ships

When I immigrated to Canada in 1982 (I had been here before on a student visa), I had to first leave the country with my pregnant wife, apply for immigration status while living in one room (no shower and the toilet was in the hall) in my mother-in-law's basement, fill out tons of paperwork, travel for an interview at the Canadian High Commission in London, go through my medicals and wait a total of about a year before being approved. I did not complain, nor do I see that period of my life as a hardship today. I was young and strong and living in a 10x10 basement room with wife and baby for a while didn't faze me. When we arrived in Canada, I quickly realized that my Master's degree in English and Linguistics wasn't going to be of much help. I worked as a bingo caller, dental equipment salesman and even a vacuum cleaner salesman (for one day, mind you!) Eventually, I found work as a music teacher...it was part-time work but it paid some of the bills. As time passed, I slowly found my way to being a full time musician and building my career.

I am not very happy to see a boatload of people come to our shores and for all of the passengers to claim political asylum. This is a flagrant abuse of the system - especially since the identities of the asylum seekers cannot be easily established. I truly want for folks to come to this wonderful country and to enjoy all it has to offer, provided they do it legally. This is not a question of discrimination or hate. It's a question of very basic fairness. I have no doubt that these people's voyage to Canada was not only unpleasant but perhaps horrendously so. Perhaps they went without food for days on end and spent the journey crammed into small, dark quarters. Nevertheless, this is not an excuse to abuse Canadian generosity - whether on the part of the claimants themselves or some human smugglers (who, btw, constitute the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth and who should be found and prosecuted to the full extent of the law)

On to perhaps lighter themes next time.

harbourfront

So...I went down to Toronto's Harbourfront this afternoon to catch me some downtown action. It was not good: no parking whatsoever, unless you're willing to shell out $20, leave your keys with a car jockey (me no likey) and walk 1.5 - 2km to your destination. You can take public transit, of course...well, the streetcars were too packed to even contemplate. Between the stink and the coughing passengers - I don't think so. OK, so I parked at Bathurst and King and walked about 2km; no big deal, it was a pleasant afternoon. Once I got to where the action was, I knew I could only take a minute or two: the crowds were just too thick. Claustrophobia hit me and I had to snake my way out to the slightly less crowded sidewalks...missed all of the Ashkenaz festival. I'll fess up: I'm not all that interested. I don't want to belong to a club that would have me for a member...this one would have me, for sure. I'm ethnically Jewish but don't feel any need to mingle with my coreligionists or take in Yiddishkeit (Jewish culture)

So I turned around and walked back to my car. Jets screamed overhead (air show) and infants screamed all around me. Cars honked impatiently and sardine can streetcars passed me by. On my right, as I walked back west, there was the god-awful ugly, unwieldy mishmash of waterfront condos, plus the Rogers Center and the CN Tower - not a pretty picture in the least. The contrast between the calm, serene lake with the green island and the manicured lawns around the sidewalks and the cold, anxious looking concrete jungle couldn't be more jarring. It's too bad Toronto couldn't get its shit together and look a bit more like Chicago.

I was glad to get into my car and motor on home to the outer suburbs. Leafy streets and silence. Oh yeah, baby. And then the wife and I went for a nice sushi dinner to cap off the sunny early fall day