Rod McQueen's Blog, page 2

A fistful of dollars

Earlier today we witnessed the pomp and pageantry of King Charles III delivering the Speech from the Throne. The Senate was packed with dignitaries while Members of the House of Commons thronged the doors for a peek.
The MPs looked ever so cheerful in their roles. Little wonder. Have you ever asked yourself just how much each MP makes for what they do? They do very well indeed.
Members of the House of Commons are paid at an annual rate of $209,800, plus they’re each given an office, a couple of staffers, relocation expenses and money for their Ottawa digs, not to mention a pension, comprehensive insurance, and multiple return trips to the riding. Senators, all of whom are appointed, earn slightly less: $185,000 plus $10,880 tax-free for expenses.
And if an MP manages to become prime minister, the base amount is doubled. Or if an MP is appointed to be a minister or a minister of state, add $100,000, $75,000 for a secretary of state, or add $14,200 for being chair of a standing committee. On top of all that comes paid-for constituency office costs.
In return for all that money sloshing around, how many actual sitting days will there be in 2025? With Parliament prorogued earlier this year, followed by the election, actual sitting days in 2025 will number only 73. Even a regular year of sitting days in the Senate is about the same, 79.
Sitting days for the House of Commons in the three previous years, 2022, 2023 and 2024 were greater in number than this year’s will be, but not penurious: 129, 121 and 122 respectively.
Bear in mind that the average working stiff labours five days a week for fifty weeks a year or 250 days in total – about twice as many days as MPs. And remember also that the average annual salary of those working stiffs is $68,000, about one-third of an MP’s pay.
Even in defeat, MPs do not suffer monetarily. For those MPs who lost their seats in the recent election, severance pay is a generous $150,000.
As for the speech itself, the text should have concluded with the lines, “As the anthem remind us: The True North is indeed strong and free!” The outburst of applause for a speech that never mentioned Donald Trump was perfect. Instead, the King went on to add two desultory sentences, saying something about Parliamentarians being blessed in all their duties.
At those rates of pay, they certainly are.

Mark his words

I didn’t cotton to Mark Carney from the first moment I saw him on television. For a long time I couldn’t explain why that was the case, not even to myself.
Looking back, now that he’s our prime minister, I think I’ve figured out why. It’s because he can play fast and loose with the truth.
First, there were the allegations of plagiarism. His 300-page 1995 doctoral thesis at Oxford was completed in less than two years, a process that can normally take up to a decade.
His thesis revealed ten instances of plagiarism where, according to experts who read it at the request of National Post, there are lengthy sentences that appear almost exactly as they were written by others in other documents, with just two or three words changed.
Second, a different issue involving his former employer, Brookfield Asset Management Ltd., is equally troubling. In 2024 Brookfield announced that it had moved its headquarters from Toronto to New York. The foofarah launched by President Donald Trump about tariffs that in turn caused some Canadians to boycott U.S. goods and services, brought closer inspection of Brookfield’s move.
For his part, Carney claimed he was no longer on the board when the move to New York happened. But the head office shift took place on October 31 and Carney was still in a position of power when he wrote to shareholders on December 1, asking them to vote yes to a corporate reorganization that was planned by Brookfield.
Third, most Canadians felt proud with how well Carney fared in his meeting with the president in the Oval Office. But nothing was decided, nor did we win anything worth mentioning. We’re still stuck with tariffs on autos, steel, and aluminium. “Just the way it is,” says Trump.
But what did Carney talk about on the phone with Trump during their earlier conversation in March?  When Carney was initially asked by journalists about the content of the phone call he somehow managed to forget that Trump used his favourite phrase, “51st state”, and how from the U.S. point of view that would be the best outcome for Canada.
Only when other sources confirmed that Trump had indeed mentioned the 51st state did Carney admit those sources had it right.
Adding up my three examples, I think it’s safe to say that Carney can be slippery in his recollections and his choice of words.
As the future unfolds, let’s keep an ear out.

 

Hope above all

The first time I heard Bill Clinton deliver a speech, it stunk. In late 1991, his staff realized that few journalists would travel to Little Rock to interview the governor of Arkansas, so Clinton came to Washington to give the first in a series of speeches at Georgetown University, his alma mater. That talk, on foreign affairs, entitled The New Covenant, was one of the most boring discourses I’d ever heard.
Clinton showed more dynamism later that same day in a speech to the National Education Association. He delivered a twenty-minute barnburner interrupted by applause numerous times. As I listened, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Arkansas state employee and former night club singer Gennifer Flowers told a supermarket tabloid she’d had a twelve-year affair with Clinton. In response, Bill and Hillary made a memorable appearance on 60 Minutes during which Hillary said, “You know, I’m not sitting here, some little woman ‘standing by my man’ like Tammy Wynette.” But, of course, she was.
At the July Democratic convention I attended in New York City that chose Clinton, the autobiographical film ended with this memorable line, “I still believe in a place called Hope,” a reference to his Arkansas birthplace as well as wider horizons.
In October 1992, I followed the Clinton campaign during a two-day convoy across northern Florida as he and Hillary, along with candidate for Vice-President Al and Tipper Gore, addressed voters at outdoor rallies and evening events. We made quite a cavalcade: motorcycle police, Secret Service in Suburbans, plus fifteen buses bearing staff, supporters, and 100 journalists. The patter from the stage was repeated everywhere, “Unemployment is up; personal income is down. The budget deficit is up; consumer confidence is down.” All of it was accompanied by Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop (thinking about tomorrow).”
The show over, everyone boarded their respective buses to wait while, as usual, a shirt-sleeved Clinton plunged into the crowd and shook hundreds of hands until there was no one left. Rather than board the media bus with the rest, I positioned myself at the edge of the crowd until Clinton was finished.
As we walked together back to the buses, I asked about the pending North American free trade agreement and heard comments no other journalist got that day. Clinton had been wobbly about NAFTA, but now said he was more supportive as long as there was environmental protection and retraining for displaced workers. My patience had paid off.
The following month, Clinton was elected president.

Abomination for a nation

Queen’s Park North, as you might expect, is immediately north of the Ontario Legislature. I live a fifteen-minute walk away and regard this oval-shaped haven as sacred ground. I revel in its splendour several times a week. The Weston family has donated $50 million toward its revitalization, a word that gives me the willies.
This historic place, opened in 1860 in honour of Queen Victoria, was the first municipal park in Canada. There’s an equestrian statue of her son, Edward VII, on a giant pedestal. Part of my pleasure when I visit comes from viewing Bertie, as he was known, while I’m seated on the benches that encircle his site.
I always find much else to admire like the lively passage of students from nearby University of Toronto as they move along the wide walkways to their next class.
Often there are more unusual activities to behold. Maybe a group doing some form of yoga in quiet unison or a lone man conducting a series of poses with a sword in his hands.
In an open grassy area there’s a statue of Canadian poet Al Purdy. The people’s poet, as he’s called, is one of the few statues of a poet anywhere in Canada. The only other poet I know who has been thus honoured is Robert Burns. He has two statues, one in Montreal’s Dorchester Square, the other in Vancouver’s Stanley Park.
What’s the City of Toronto planning to install next year using the newly announced $50 million? New buildings, educational activities, a skating rink, wading pool, washrooms, food outlets, flower beds and performances. That much construction will surely fill all the green space and endanger the roots of the ancient trees.
The City of Toronto and the TTC have already besmirched the north end of the park by digging out an unnecessarily large entrance to the Museum subway station. Included in this abomination are about forty wide steps. There’s no elevator for the elderly or the handicapped. And because these steps are exposed to the elements, in winter they can become hazardous for people of all shapes and sizes.
Given this ugly orifice designed by the city, please don’t let those same screwball planners have their way with the entire park. The Weston money would be far better spent creating parks and playgrounds in those areas of Toronto where they are sorely needed.

Democracy inaction

This federal election is like no other I’ve ever seen. First off, the NDP has become irrelevant. Their leader, Jagmeet Singh, is telling voters that Parliament works better when there’s a strong third party that can “hold the powerful to account.” That’s not exactly a slogan, more like a faint hope, but I guess that’s all he’s got. 
Second, now that Mark Carney’s Liberals are in the lead with two weeks left to go, he keeps calling cabinet meetings and disappearing from the campaign trail for days at a time as if retreat is the safest bet.
Third, the lying about crowd size has taken nose-stretching to new heights. According to a scientific study conducted by CBC, the Edmonton rally that the Conservatives claimed drew 15,000, was actually 1,558. 
Fourth, Quebec voters have abandoned the Bloc Quebecois. They’re rushing to the Liberals despite Carney’s limited French and his flawed knowledge of an event as searing as the 1989 mass shooting at Ecole Polytechnique in Montreal. Never in the past has Quebec embraced a unilingual leader.
Moreover, I’m tired of these staged “news conferences” where a leader stands behind a podium festooned with some slogan while beyond him are a corralled group of union members, teachers or some other concoction to give the impression of support. My favourite moment among the many staged presentations I’ve seen came recently when one member of the standing-room-only gave a big yawn. Perfect!
Nor do I recall in the past ever seeing such fluctuation in the polls. Pierre Poilievre was ahead of the Liberals by 25 points for the longest time. In recent weeks, there was a switcheroo after the newly reviled Justin Trudeau stepped down and, suddenly, the Liberals led by nine.
Two days ago that lead shrank to six points, according to Nanos Research. There’s even one survey just published by something called Innovative Research that has the Tories ahead 38-37.
Beyond all these cited differences from the past, I can’t recall a time when so much was promised by so many for so few listeners. Daily the announcements concerning taxes, retirees, families, you-name-it, pile up to the sky.
The only commentator who’s making any sense is political consultant Kory Teneycke on his Curse of Politics podcast. When Poilievre lost the lead, Teneycke called it “campaign malpractice.” 
I can only assume the election results on April 28 will be a continuation of this fraught campaign with surprises in store.

The former Great One

What’s all the fuss about Wayne Gretzky and how Canadians feel betrayed by his apparent preference for things American. In his birthplace of Brantford, Ont., they’re particularly up in arms after naming a parkway and a sports centre after him. Just because he moved away to California and seems to have forgotten his home and native land.
Thousands of Canadians have moved to California annually for decades. Some have even become famous in movies: Jim Carrey, Michael J. Fox, William Shatner, Leslie Nielsen, Ryan Gosling, Donald Sutherland, and Christopher Plummer.
There are also singers who come to mind such as Shania Twain. Plus my favorite actor on Friends, Matthew Perry, aka Chandler Bing. Born in the U.S., he was raised in Ottawa by his mother, Suzanne Morrison, press secretary to Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau. The California gold rush all started years ago with Mary Pickford, born in Toronto in 1892 who had a five-decade-long Hollywood career.
And look at Neil Young. His father, Scott Young, was a columnist for the Globe and Mail. He’d split with his wife who took the kids. Neil eventually ended up on a California ranch making such hits as Old Man. “Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you, I need someone to love me the whole day through.” Despite not seeing or talking to Neil for decades, Scott thought the song was about him. In fact, it was about a worker on Neil’s farm.
All these folks entertained us and we were proud of them. Which takes us back to Gretzky, who used to be known as “The Great One.” Number 99 with the Edmonton Oilers. His presence at an election night party with Donald Trump started the slide that picked up speed when he attended Trump’s inauguration. And Trump promoted him as governor of the 51st state. 
But none of that really bothered me until he showed up at the Canada-U.S. hockey game and seemed to favour the U.S. team over his Canadian brethren. There have been other turncoats in history: Benedict Arnold, Judas Iscariot and the man who gave his name to such betrayal: Vidkun Quisling.
Now Wayne Gretzky joins their number as the first Canadian turncoat. Too bad he’s about to lose his all-time NHL goals record of 894. And to a Russian, no less, Alex Ovechkin, who’s only three behind. I’ll be cheering for the Russian. Let’s make him an honorary Canadian.

An open book

Where does the love of reading come from? It begins with parents who read bedtime stories aloud and after a while encourage the young listener to do the reading. As early as six I also read more complicated comics like Our Boarding House and Walt Kelly’s Pogo. I still know the words for their annual Christmas carol, “Deck us all with Boston Charlie, Walla Walla Wash. and Kalamazoo.”
At noon hour, I’d be home from school for lunch then listen on radio to Bing Whittaker and the “The Small Types Club.” I think his stories only lasted fifteen minutes and would end at 1 p.m. with Whittaker telling all of us to hurry back to school, saying “Sssssscoot!”
My joy for books continued with high school teacher Isobel Cowie who I have previously cited. She once lugged to class a record player so we could listen to Dylan Thomas reading his work, “A Child’s Christmas in Wales.” I still play it, sometimes not even at Christmas.
My love of language was further burnished by organizations like CBC back in the day when they had stars like Peter Gzowski who used the English language with aplomb and excitement both at the same time.
For an author like myself, reading a book continues to be a part of most days. I can read a newspaper online, but not a book. While traveling by car we recently listened to “War” by Bob Woodward. His topics skipped from one to the other so car rides were the perfect way to proceed.
But I prefer reading a published book. I like the heft of it in my hand. I like turning the pages. I like postponing errands to read just one more chapter. I like using the bookmark made by my grand-daughter and leaving the book near my chair ready to open at the very spot I left off whenever I want.
I also like re-reading books I previously enjoyed such as any volume about Lyndon Johnson by Robert Caro. I find myself reading too many American books but I just finished the new biography of Ronald Reagan by Max Boot and recommend it highly. My favourite Canadian authors include Robertson Davies, Roy MacGregor, Marian Engel, Michael Bliss and Ian Brown, to name just a few.
Does Donald Trump read books? Hard to imagine. He seems to have no attention span for more than a few words uttered. His words only, of course.

 

 

Tall order

So Mark Carney has put all his holdings in a blind trust, as the law dictates for a prime minister. So what? The problem with blind trusts for rich people like Carney is that he knows what’s in it and the folks who supervise these things aren’t likely to change the contents very much. This issue matters in the case of Carney because I would assume that the value of his blind trust is something like $25 million. That’s got to be far more personal wealth than any previous Canadian PM.
Some of that will be invested in bonds and other such assets that anyone would just hang onto. No problem there. Other holdings, however, are likely in equities where values can go up and down. But blind or not, he knows what he holds. His trustee isn’t likely to eliminate shares held in a blue-chip Royal Bank, if he holds them, and he probably does. Will such a holding change his government’s stance towards Royal? Or other Canadian banks? Maybe not, but who knows? 
There must also be future payments due to Carney from Brookfield, his former home. Top executives tend to set up payouts that extend over a long period of time, just like New York Mets slugger Juan Soto who recently signed a 15-year $765 million contract that could outlast his playing career. We’ve already seen Carney “forget” a Brookfield activity during his time seeking office. Will there be more such moments?
To my mind, a blind trust is a deaf-and-dumb idea.
So, what’s the answer? I say, let’s do away with blind trusts. Instead, a newly elected prime minister must cash out as much as he/she can at the time of assuming office. In addition, they must reveal any and all future payments that can’t be collateralized immediately. That way, we voters know when prime ministers are acting in their own best interests and when they might not be.
But Carney has another shortcoming, and I use the word carefully. To my mind, he’s a little short to be a leader. When he met recently with King Charles as well as the British and French leaders all the photographs showed him pretty much an equal in height. Carney is 5’9″ while the King and the two leaders are both in the 5’8″ to 5’10” range.
But what happens when Carney visits the White House? At 6’3″ Trump will tower over him by 6″ – half a foot – and stand a good chance of dominating the conversation as a result. Maybe that’s why Trump is last on Carney’s call list of leaders. 

 

Faking it

Artificial Intelligence is ruining our lives. Everywhere you turn, someone is talking about it. Here’s a warning: don’t use the words in full, only the initials, AI, if you want to sound in tune with the times.
The dictionary definition of AI is the ability of a machine to perform tasks usually carried out by humans such as learning, reasoning and problem-solving. I guess that means AI is of no help with other more mundane human tasks such as singing in the shower or making a BLT.
AI now has so many enthusiasts that conference organizers have gotten into the act. I recently saw an advertisement about a conflab later this month entitled: Finding the ROI in AI. If you don’t want to look stupid, you can attend virtually. Here’s a typical line from the ad: “What roadmap are early adopters using to avoid the pitfalls and tap into AI’s upside?”
Doesn’t. That. Sound. Exciting. The blurb atop the ad doesn’t say what ROI is. (It’s return on investment.) There, I’ve saved you a full day of tedium. Beyond gatherings, other AI services will help plan your holiday trip. But be prepared for some mistakes like sending you to a Broadway matinee that doesn’t exist.
University professors were among the first to face AI. From their point of view, a student using AI to write an essay is the equivalent of asking help from a not very bright friend. Essays produced using ChatGPT, the most popular AI search engine, give themselves away because they cite fabricated articles or book titles. If the prof asks for sources and the student can’t produce them, such falsification receives a mark of zero on that essay. A second offence likely means failure in that course.
My worst fear is by now probably obvious. What if my role as your favorite blogger and as a bi-weekly contributor to the Saturday Toronto Star was taken over by some infernal machine. My only protection is the drivel you might read by a novice AI machine opining about the new Liberal leader Cark Marney. And could AI properly spell Pierre Poilievre? I always have to look it up myself and then type the name carefully. Otherwise he might show up on my doorstep with that axe he carries everywhere. But didn’t I read that someone recently took that tool away? Or maybe that was just another erroneous outburst by AI.

Ballot boxed-in

When Mark Carney declared he was running for Liberal leader, I liked him. He certainly came with a potent resume. I voted for Justin Trudeau in 2015, the first time I had voted Liberal since 1968 when his father, Pierre, swept into office. I thought Carney had the potential to win the next federal election. I even toyed with the idea of voting Liberal once again.
But during Carney’s first public appearance, Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show, Carney was so smarmy that I quit watching halfway through the twenty-minute interview. Ever since, whenever there’s a news clip of Carney, he looks scrawny, with his neck poking out of his shirt like a chicken about to get its head cut off.
As for Chrystia Freeland, I haven’t liked her since I saw her speak to several hundred high school students at an event in her Toronto riding four years ago. When question time came, the first at the microphone were two young girls, maybe 11 and 9, who wanted to know how to become a Member of Parliament.
“The prime minister asked me,” Freeland replied haughtily. “I said ‘No.’” Justin called again. Freeland replied “no” again. Finally she said “yes” despite the fact that her family was against the idea. She dragged them back to Toronto from New York where they’d been living.
All Freeland had to do when asked that question was to congratulate the two young people on thinking about such a contribution to society, tell them to join clubs at school, be active in the community and, over time, seek leadership roles.
In the French-language television leaders debate last night, Frank Baylis and Karina Gould each had an excellent command of French. Carney and Freeland both spoke using a level of French that was so basic, even I could understand them. Freeland at least was lively. Carney was stiff and tended to run out of steam after three sentences.
Henry Kissinger once offered some wise words about leaders. He said that leaders do not grow in office because they can’t find any time to learn amidst the crush of crises. Rather, said Kissinger, they come into office with what they know and proceed to use it up. In this coming election I don’t see any great depth of leadership talents that exist to be used up, either Liberal or Conservative. On election day, for the first time in my life, I may just stay home and not vote.