John Stall

I had an interesting chat today with Canadian author and National Post columnist, Diane Francis, about changes to the business landscape of Canada over the last 20 years. Her latest book titled Who Owns Canada Now has just been released and is the hottest business book on store shelves.  If you are interested in business generally and who’s ”currently” who in particular, then it’s a must read for you (you can also listen to my interview with her here on the 680News website by clicking on the audio link: here

I have a ton of admiration for Diane , who I first met and became friends with in the early 80s.  She revolutionized business journalism in Canada. She made it sexy, understandable and interesting. Like many of the self-made entrepreneurial billionaires she writes about,  Diane is ambitious and self-made as well. 

A lot of people may not know this, but it all began for Diane when she decided one day, as a young mother in the late ’70s, that she would take a creative writing/journalism course at Sheridan College. After only a few weeks at Sheridan she was encouraged to bail for an internship at the Brampton Daily Times where she spent 15 months flogging freelance pieces to magazines and papers around the world!

It wasn’t long before the Toronto Star came calling for her to help expand it’s business coverage – which she did through a sexy little column called the “Insiders.” Diane used the column to cultivate the persona of an insider herself — which essentially led other insiders to tell her inside information and sexy tidbits about people, places and business deals that no other business journalist would ever know about, much less be able to spin into gossipy, but discreetly factual tales that readers (including the establishment)  couldn’t get enough of. 

The “Insiders” column and a growing international profile led to regular appearances with Barbara Frum on The Journal, with Peter Gzowski on Morningside and with me on the radio interview show I was hosting at the time on CFRB.  Along the way she was snapped up by the Toronto Sun, Maclean’s magazine and The Financial Post, which Conrad Black bought and re-tooled into the National Post.

What distinguishes Diane from most journalists in Canada is that she has been willling and able to cultivate real and personal relationships with many of the business leaders she writes about. She’s earned their trust, friendship and admiration to the extent that they socialize with her and share their knowledge and experiences knowing that when they may be the subject of her stories she’ll be discreet, but thorough. 

Who Owns Canada Now is from the perspective of Canada’s consummate business insider.

Say what you want about the life-disrupting nature of the Blackberry, I had another ” wow” moment this week with mine that trumps the grief the gadget has caused my life! 

To be fair, the bb  doesn’t cause ME as much grief as it does the family around me when it goes off in the middle of the night or during a face to face conversation. More often than I like to admit it’s carrying an urgent bulletin from a pollster informing of the latest change in the political landscape, or to let me know what the premier’s itinerary is going to be for the next few days. My better half  has on more than one occasion threatened to throw it down the toilet or into a snow bank, and once put it in the refrigerator freezer to chill out.

But this week, I was having dinner in a restaurant wondering about the safety of two dear friends who are on the final leg of a once in a life time trip around the world.  I knew they were somewhere in China but not sure where because they were doing 14 cities in 16 days.  I feared they may be near or god forbid caught in the terror of the earthquake.  As the garlic bread arrived, I pulled the blackberry out of it’s holster, track-wheeled down to the black book icon, clicked their e mail co-ordinates and in the ”subject” line simply asked ;   “Are you OK?, ” please respond”.  By the time coffee and desert arrived the familiar “ding ding” Buzzzzzz Buzzzzzz went off around my waist.  I didn’t worry at that moment if my dinner partner was offended.  When I clicked open the e mail I saw the words I was waiting for “Yes, we are OKAY,” “we were in the earthquake zone a week ago, thank God.” “We felt the earth move though from here,” ”Back home next month, see you soon.” I shook my head and said to my dinner partner “These things are unbelievable”, What a world we live in.”

The horror unfolding in Myanmar is taking me back to a couple of personal experiences. I’ve stood on the Thailand side of the Mekhong river looking across at the shore line of the former Burma. From my vantage point at the time, all you could see on the other side of the river was the edge of jungle and wasteland although some river people were wandering the shoreline and some boats were crossing  to the Thailand side with local crafts to sell at the market.  I was being escorted through the “Golden Triangle” by Thai tourism officials. 

The Golden Triangle is where Myanmar, Laos and Thailand converge and where the Mekhong and Ruak rivers come together. It’s a little more than a stones throw across the Mehkong to the former Burma. The Golden Triangle is the notorious zone that used to be the centre of world opium trade because of the fields that grew poppy like southern Ontario farms grow corn.  Although the poppy fields had been eradicated when I visited about 15 years ago,  I distinctly remember seeing local nomads wandering through the dirt back roads clearly disoriented and numbed by the “opium gum” they would have no trouble acquiring and using. 

In a strange and perverse way, I am almost hoping that victims the of the cyclone who have been abandoned and discarded by their repressive military rulers were, and remain so numbed by opium that they are unaware of their predicament and destiny. The magnitude of this catastrophe and loss of life I fear is going to astound the world when and if outsiders get their eyes on the remnants.

I’ve  also been caught in and reported from the wreckage of two devastating hurricanes, one in Jamaica and one in Carolina.  Just three days without water, food, gasoline and communication is enough to trigger panic, corruption and desperation.  And that’s in relatively prosperous countries with democratic governments who are willing and anxious to accept help from the outside world.  I can’t imagine what it must be like in the outposts of Myanmar after 10 days without any help from anyone who knows or cares what they are doing.  We may find out in the days ahead and I predict will be shocked beyond belief!