John Stall

Were you moved by the opening ceremonies in Beijing? I was, big time! 

For all the heat that China has felt leading up to these games, from the treatment of Tibet, to the polluted air, to the fear of suppressing free speech by the international media, they sure did show the planet how to put together an artistic production, didn’t they? It was done with precision, modern day pizaaz and discipline. A four-hour long extravaganza involving tens of thousands of performers that went off seemingly without a hitch or miscue. I would think that one would have to be emotionally and spiritually numb or dead to not be moved in some way.

 No, the production did not reflect the most modern era of China’s history, the era that a free world has a hard time accepting, let alone embracing. But, how can any free thinking person not be interested in or moved by the artistic way the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, characterized and celebrated the ancient culture responsible for the invention of  fireworks, paper, printing and the compass, not to mention the “noodle,” which evolved into spaghetti or pasta.

The Olympics to me are supposed to be about emotion, pursuit of excellence and national pride -not politics, or about sitting in  judgment of counter cultures. Unless or until something happens in Beijing over the next two weeks that is so abhorrent, negligent or that contravenes the spirit of the games, I will hold on to my creative respect, admiration, and appreciation for the opening notes from Beijing that moved me emotionally.

City councillor Rob Ford certainly has had his moments of questionable conduct over the years, but I think he’s dead on with his claim that councillors don’t need the $53,000 office expense account that goes with the job.

He’s been a stone in the shoe of his colleagues (including the mayor) by continuing to point out that “core” administrative office expenses like paper, pens, stationary, fax machines, computers, telephones, etc. , are provided by the clerks office, in addition to salary money for administrative staff.

He reminded us on the air this morning that councillors make $100,000 a year, which translates into $4,800 a month in take-home pay and that all the business related to the city is done at City Hall, so there is no need to take taxis, limos or additional trips that have in the past been billed back to the tax payer as an “office expense.”

He’s forced council (with help from the media) to come up with a new policy book that attempts to clarify what qualifies as an office expense, but all that it does is tell councillors how to claim the $53,000 within rules instead of without any.

Fords point, and it’s one that we should all be considering, is whether or not the $53,000 that all councillors get as part of the job is actually necessary to carry out the responsibilities of the job.

I’m not a big gambler,  so what I am about to say about being in favour of the Harper government giving the thumbs-up to “sport-booking” in Ontario casinos, is not driven by an addiction that would love to be fed from places other than Las Vegas.

 Vegas is currently the only place where you can legally bet on sporting events other than horse racing, but the Ontario government is seeking a change to the federal criminal code so that casinos in Niagara and Windsor can offer the same - and I say why not?

Sure it’s a form of taxation, maybe on those who can least afford it - so are lottery tickets - but you don’t pay unless you want to play, and no one is forcing anyone to play.  I don’t buy the idea that it’s the government’s role to protect people from themselves and what could end up being the destructive consequences of their actions.  A fool and their money is quickly parted in many ways that range from stupid stock market picks to buying swamp land in Florida.

Sport-booking is available anyway and anyone who wants to wager money on a game can find a bookie to take the bet, or an online venue that is happy and equipped to process a credit card.

I don’t think it’s the government’s role to protect people from themselves, but I do believe it’s the government’s role to protect a healthy economic environmnet from deterioration and to proactively help create one when it has the chance to do so.  If the Feds can help the economy of southwestern Ontario get some “oomph” by being the only place north of Vegas, where those who want to, can bet on sports - then why would they not? Especially after greasing the economic slide by telling the world that Ontario is the ”last” place in which they should invest. 

Couldn’t bite my tongue any longer after reading the hatchet job CBS legal analyst Andrew Cohen does on the North American Public Relations Industry in his recent blog about the government lies revealed in the new tell-all book by former White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan.

Not only does Cohen leave the impression in his CBS blog that he thinks lying is an acceptable part of the government gig (not surprising from a lawyer), but he tarnishes all PR practitioners (of which Mclellan was one before Bush) as professional liars whose sole mission and skill is to be slickly untruthful or half-truthful on their clients behalf. What a disconnected response and characterization of a profession and service that CBS shows or any other media, 680News included, could not live without, because good PR people bring information to news and boardrooms that is then shaped and molded into media product, including blogs like Cohen’s.

The blog flack began when the Public Relations Society Of America opined that McClellan as press secretary violated the “ethics” of his craft.  Cohen countered that the PR profession questioning ethics, was like the Burglars Association of America having a creed not to steal.  Well, as a colleague of mine pointed out “a lawyer questioning PR ethics is like giving the Boston Strangler an Avon route!”

Good PR makes, builds and saves companies and careers - which is more than I can say for legal analysts who pass reckless judgments off as insight.

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!

Given the way things unfolded last Friday night and the TTC strike that followed , it is clear that the transit union leadership has lost the confidence of, and the ability to lead its members. It has also lost the goodwill of the public it was skillfully able to attain right up to and through the original negotiations.

NDP Leader Howard Hampton admitted to me on Sunday. as we gathered at Queen’s Park for the back to work legislation, that the transit union leadership tier was crumbling.

 What’s clear now is that the current leader does not have the confidence of his membership. He was not able to convince them that the deal he negotiated at the table with the city was the best they could get, and that they should ratify it rather than strike . Or,  he is so far out-of-touch and out-of-sync with his members that he was not able to follow their instructions and expectations at the table – so he came away with less (than what we now know they expected).

Ratification of a negotiated settlement rarely fails as this one did, because the members usually trust that their leader has taken their interest as far as it can possibly go before recommending they accept it.

Leadership is not an easy job, and it can be lonely because that’s where the buck stops.  But you gotta lead, follow, or get out of the way! 

I don’t doubt for a second that if Buzz Hargrove recommended a negotiated settlement to his CAW members and they rejected it — he’d get outta the way.

We are in Las Vegas for a few days of R&R and for a family celebration.  This place is, on many levels, like no place on the planet. A place where money loses all value in a casino.  A place where no amount of money has been spared building the hotels and casinos that are larger than many small towns, and it’s a place where you could spend from hundreds to millions of dollars on anything want from condo’s to cars, to jewelry to Lear jets - but it’s hard to find an OUTDOOR patio bar-restaurant-where you can smoke. 

Now this may not sound as bizarre as I’m making it out to be when you consider the number of North American cities, including Toronto, that have extended their smoking bans to outdoor patios sheltered by umbrellas that are touching as opposed to those with no umbrellas, but this city allows smoking INSIDE many of the grandest of hotels and in ALL of the casinos.  Ash trays are happily passed out at all if not most of the card tables and slot machines.  Anyone who sits down at a black-jack table or row of slot machines  and who objects to those around them who are smoking, quickly realizes this place is different from where they come from.

I guess the by-law makers of Nevada figure the air-cleaning technology inside the casinos and hotels that gambling money can buy is more capable of saving the lives (from second-hand smoke) of the gazillions of people who spend 24-7 in them than mother natures open air desert can of the few who sit outside.  In fact, it’s hard to find an outdoor patio on which you can sit and have a drink or light meal.  Wonder why they want everybody inside? Where smoking is allowed and their is no limit to the amount of money you want to gamble.

Viva Las Vegas! 

Of all the rites of spring, from the icicles weeping at the final departure of winter, to the season opening ball games, for my money nothing can trigger the endorphins of a middle-ager the way driving a sports-car or motorcycle can, along a dry road in the first warm sunshine of spring. My “babe-mobile” (as my oldest step-daughter dubbed it at first sight) came out of winter storage this week and ooooh baby, does she ever look and feel good!

It was the summer before last that I succumbed to the mid-life pull to put at least one more sporty-like car under my seat, before maybe beginning to consider the possibility of giving into practicality and maturity. It’s not exactly a Porsche, but a very snappy looking pearl white, five-speed Mitsubishi that’s way too low for the snow, but high enough to clear any railway track on the back roads of my regular path to and from Georgian Bay.  Her name is “Mitsy”– she’s  smooth and sleek, with some great curves in the right spots.

The first day I brought her home, my very attractive 24-year-old  step-daughter dropped her jaw and screamed “it’s a sex machine!,” “a babe-mobile!” — so I coaxed her into the front seat to see how many heads we could turn driving down Yonge Street, with the sunroof open, the windows down and the tunes cranked a little louder than usual. Yes, the heads were turning big time, but I’m not sure if they were looking at her, the car, or the sight of a 50-something alongside a babe who was 30 years younger. Doesn’t matter. It was fun, felt great, was trouble-free and scratched the itch of winter, not to mention mid-life! (just kidding sweetie).

The only other “babes” who have been in the front seat since (apart from my gorgeous mate Marlane), are our two dogs, Tia and Moe, who dig the leather seats, the tunes, the sunroof and who know how to pose for the heads they turn at traffic lights. In the meantime, this older dog is diggin’ it all, especially this weekend’s first coat-free, window down, tune crankin’, run up the ribbon of back roads to Georgian Bay, to the tune of Mack the Knife.  Look out, ole Mitsy’s back!