Misplaced Mistrust

Handsome devil: Allan Gardens painted turtle,
one of at least 20 living in the greenhouse water feature.

I've heard some stories recently about people who, because of their distrust in government, have gotten themselves into trouble.

These stories may prompt harsh judgement. But my intention is to illustrate, not shame. Mistrust can feel like a good strategy - as in, don't trust strangers, or don't trust everything you hear - but it can steer you wrong ....

The Toronto Star ran a story about a since-reformed vaccine-hesitant mom, who, a third of her way through her career in birthing and raising ten children, decided to believe the unsubstantiated but compelling stories she read on Facebook that said vaccines posed disproportionate risks to her kids. By then she already had four (vaccinated) children. She was on her seventh (unvaccinated) child before a measles outbreak in her community made her wonder about her choice. 

She shared her dilemma on Facebook. Among the threats and shaming that instantly followed, one compassionate bona fide medical researcher got in touch with her and kindly coached her through how she could do her own research to resolve her dilemma.

After two days of looking at the stories she had once found so persuasive, she said to her husband: "There's no proof for all these claims of harm."

She promptly put her kids on a vaccination schedule. Even more promptly her youngest caught whooping cough. Soon all seven had it. That's a hard price for anyone to pay for their mistakes, let alone a mother who sincerely believed she was protecting her children (the kids all recovered and are fine).

What drove this woman to believe false claims and imperil her children? She explained that she "had always been skeptical of government ..."

Next up, the story of the Bitcoin exchange CEO who suddenly and unexpectedly "died" in India. CBC made a podcast, A Death in Cryptoland, about Gerald Cotten, the thirty-year-old Belleville native whose YouTube videos include him microwaving a $20 bill. 

Cotten "died," leaving a quarter of a billion dollars worth of Bitcoin in an electronic vault, the only key to which was in Gerry's mortal brain. 76,000 people lost their money.

Investigations after his "death" revealed Cotten was a practiced con artist who ran Ponzi schemes so transparently it is hard to believe that any rational adult would have given him any of their money. But thousands did. One person interviewed for the podcast explained that he invested in Bitcoin, with Gerry, because he "didn't trust the government."

The last story is about the guy shown in a clip on the John Oliver Show. He was interviewed for the cameras from his sick bed, still strapped into hospital paraphernalia. He absolutely refused, even after his bout with COVID, to get vaccinated. When asked why, he said “because it’s the government’s agenda” to have people vaccinated.

Questioning authority is always a good idea, just like it's a good idea to not let the guy who's obviously drunk drive you home. 

But don't let your judgement against the drunk guy persuade you that it's safe to be driven around by a meth head. 

One Question ...

Are there any men on the Canadian Olympic team?

Thanks for reading!

Happy long weekend!

Karen

Another Interlude

To cool things off: Allan Gardens bench after a snow storm, February 9, 2013.

For three hours on Thursday afternoon, I sat at a table in Grange Park with three other people. We were having a meeting, the first face to face for any of us in almost a year and a half. 

I divided my attention between our conversation and the rest of the world around us.

Our table started out in a shaded spot, which became less so over time. Clouds coursing on fast winds alternated the temperature between warm and chilly, and the light between bright and dim.

Two individuals, a man and a woman, both in need of a bath and perhaps some medication, circumambulated the paths. The woman began her circuits dragging a blanket, but abandoned it somewhere. The man, on his final lap, gently and precisely laid a small stone on a ruined water fountain. Pleased with his work, he went on his way.

The table across the path from us serially hosted a man and his Tai Chi instructor, then a man staring deeply into his phone, then four teenage girls talking and laughing, then a couple of grown ups. He ate a large sandwich; she smoked a large joint.

Deeper into the park, in a large open space ringed by trees, mini-mobs of children in colourful matching jerkins played organized games. Adults performed open air workouts with weights, rings hung from branches and tiny trampolines. Farthest away, seen fleetingly through a thick screen of leaves, a volley ball vaulted in and out of view.

As we sat still, the park population changed all around us. The colour-coded children trooped out. Babies in strollers rolled in. One workout ended and another began. But, undeniably, as the day waned, the numbers fell until, as I hoisted my own blanket in a bag on my shoulder and put a hat over my tired brain, the park was almost empty. 

Among the uses of the park that day, our meeting fell somewhere between the day care kids and the big-armed men lifting themselves on rings. Or, perhaps, it fit perfectly with the man who fixed the water fountain with the stone.

Thanks for reading!

Lower those carbon emissions!

Karen

Interlude

For the first time in a year: guests at breakfast.

At the beginning of the pandemic, people lined up to shop for groceries. As the pandemic winds down (at least in Ontario, at least for now),  the longest line ups are for clothing stores. The other week, the line up for Winners in College Park snaked all the way to Bay Street (that's about 500 metres). Yesterday, on Queen West, the line outside of Brandy Melville covered the sidewalk ... though there may have been more going on there than just the receding pandemic.

I mentioned a few posts ago that by now - July 17 - I should have had a hair cut and should be looking forward to having guests over for dinner in August.

I've switched the order on those. This past week, we had overnight guests. We had breakfast and dinner at home.

The haircut's not happening until August 4.

I'm acclimatizing to a busier, more people-y world. I no longer start at the sight of folks shaking hands. Busy sidewalks aren't a source of anxiety anymore. When I go for a walk, I'm just walking, not fighting off my sense of isolation and trying not to endanger my neighbours. 

There's less at stake in leaving the house.

Tomorrow, we're going to a movie (Black Widow).

While the world... especially the federal Green Party ...  collapses, burns, floods, and is tornadoed into smithereens, I'm going to enjoy this short interlude before the next big wallop.

Thanks for reading.

Have a great week!

Karen

That Other Crisis

Allan Gardens Black-Eyed Susan and Scarlet Beebalm

Twice over the past few weeks I've had a conversation with someone about a car. Not my car. I don't have a car. And if I had a car, I wouldn't know how to drive it.

No, the cars at issue were not mine. In fact, they were no one's. They were future cars. Cars being considered for purchase. 

One of the conversations was with a former colleague, a cap and trade specialist from the Ministry of the Environment. The other was with the lawyer who had just done our wills. Our old wills were from 23 years ago; the lawyer who had drafted them was himself dead. We needed an update.

My colleague's car is also in its third decade. I asked if he'd be buying an electric car, seeing as the world is on fire and all.

He said "no." He feigned concern about what happens to EV batteries. He finally admitted he wanted a car that made him feel powerful. And everyone knows EVs are gutless.

An electric vehicle was not my lawyer's first choice either. She was concerned because she drives in from Collingwood. In EV parlance, that's called range anxiety. Everyone knows that EVs can travel only a block or two on a full charge and then you're stuck there until the end of time. 

What struck me about both these conversations was how long in the tooth the misconceptions about EVs were. Range anxiety in particular goes back thirty, forty years.

Here are some recent facts:

• The average range of an electric vehicle is over 250 km. Teslas can do 350 km. Most commutes - which many people no longer do - are under 100 km.
• Electric vehicles have more torque than internal combustion engine vehicles.
• There are limited uses for EV batteries right now, but humans are smart. They'll figure it out.

Also striking, of course, was that smart humans were thinking at all about buying a gasoline-powered vehicle.

Both of these people were meticulous in their compliance with COVID rules: masks all around; meeting on patios and in the yard behind the lawyer's Cabbagetown office. 

It certainly appears as if they are capable of modifying their behaviour to deal with a crisis.

So, I suggested they check out Plug 'n Drive, a non-profit organization dedicated to helping people get over their ancient fossil-fuel-industry-driven misconceptions about EVs.

If you're worried about the climate crisis, and you're in the market for a new set of wheels, you should check it out, too.

Thanks for reading!

Hug a (vaccinated) friend!

Karen

Impunity

Allan Gardens, Friday, July 2, 2021

For the first time in more than five years, this post is coming to you from a new computer. It's still a MacBook Air, but obtained with a fraction of the futzing around of the first one.

The photo above also comes to you by way of a new Apple product, my iPhone SE which, according to Apple, is their "most popular size at their most affordable price." 

I got a new phone because I dropped the old one and broke the camera.

The masked man at the Apple store said they might be able to fix my iPhone 7, but I decided to get a new one. It's embarrassing walking around with the world's oldest iPhone.

But enough about me and my electronic devices, I want to talk about impunity - Jeffrey-Epstein-calibre impunity - and how it has captured the imagination of the general population.

It's well established that rich people are above the law (cf. Epstein circa 1974-2019). But, with the pandemic fanning the flames of wanna be scofflaws, regular people everywhere are trying it on for size.

For example, there's the Etobicoke barbecue restaurant guy, Adam Skelly, who recently lobbed into court a constitutional challenge against charges laid for opening his establishment in contravention of COVID-19 rules.

His case was stalled the other day on procedural grounds. 

The judge was candid about how the complainant and his lawyers had shot themselves in the foot.

“The problems are not minor or technical in nature. They cannot be overlooked. They go to the heart of procedural fairness and the court’s jurisdiction,” said Justice Jasmine Akbarali.

... Akbarali noted that Skelly’s team had ample time to fix the procedural issues....

“Earlier in the proceedings, when the Notices of Motion were being prepared, the respondents were represented by four counsel. I cannot explain why none of them considered these very basic issues, or if they did, why they did not address the deficiencies in the proceeding which could have been done in February or March, 2021, and would have preserved the June 28 and 29 dates for a hearing on the merits.”

One of Skelly's advisers was also candid. Chris Weisdorf described the decision as a “complete joke” and said “the rule of law has been cancelled, once again.”

He was candid, but also wrong. The advisor seems to be imagining that "rule of law" means "I get to do what I want."

Like I said, the freedom to do only what you want is the exclusive stronghold of the rich. 

Speaking of money, Skelly's GoFundMe page has raised almost $350,000. 

If they could just figure out how to ably defend their client, Skelly's lawyers might get rich.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen