When Sir John Craig Eaton died at 46 in 1922, none of his sons was ready to take over Eaton’s, the company his father, Timothy, had founded in 1869. Cousin R. Y. Eaton stepped in until the designated son, John David Eaton, was old enough. I wrote a book, The Eatons, in 1998 so I thought about all this history and more when I read in my morning paper today about fresh plans for the former Eaton’s College Street, first opened in 1930. Lady Eaton, wife of Sir John, and their second son, John David, officiated at those ceremonies. Behind...
Some books are better unread. Some books are better unwritten. Source Code: My Beginnings by Bill Gates is just such a book. You wouldn’t be at all drawn to this book unless you knew the success he had launching Microsoft. Or maybe you’re attracted to the photo of a seven-year-old with a front tooth missing which is what’s on the cover. It wasn’t the photo that drew me, it was the Gates name and the fact that it was billed as an autobiography. Biographies and autobiographies are my favourite genre and my shelves are lined with others including the likes...
I know I’ve previously written about Artificial Intelligence, but, bear with me, my stomach is once more roiling about this nonsense that keeps intruding into our lives. In my morning paper, the Report on Business, was a story announcing that bank CEOs say that AI is already in use in their institutions. According to the article banks are using AI to boost staff productivity, cut costs, combat financial crime and improve customer service. Wow! Isn’t it odd that the CEOs would cite those things, given how poorly the banks appear to be performing in all those areas. “We don’t talk...
Whatever happened to chivalry? My concern is readily visible on almost any street in the country. Rather than see couples walk together, side-by-side, many men are two or three steps ahead of their wife, as if they don’t know her or wish they didn’t. Or perhaps this out-fronter thinks he will look like some snappy male specimen who is single and therefore ready to join with whatever new woman will have him in her life. In his mind the choice grows greater and greater as time passes, such a hunk of humanity is he. You see a similar sort of...
Those of you who are of a certain age – and I’m sure you know who you are – likely have the same problem I do. Out of nowhere, a tune from the distant past will pop into your head. But, for the life of you, you can’t remember anywhere near all of the words. This happened to me recently with Yakety Yak. You likely know the opening lines: “Take out the papers and the trash, or you don’t get no spending cash. If you don’t scrub that kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more.” And the...
The Blue Jays went into the three-game series against the Colorado Rockies this week with by far the better season. The Jays had won twice as many games this year as the poor, beleaguered Rockies. The Jays proceeded to win all three games and set new records. Sound great doesn’t it? Well, it wasn’t. I won’t be watching the Jays for a while, such is my disgust. This was not the same fine Jays team that recently swept four games from the New York Yankees. That was some of the best baseball I’ve ever seen and secured a three-game lead...
The number 19 bus runs north-south on Bay Street in Toronto between Davenport Road in the north and Union Station in the south. I’ve taken that bus regularly since moving downtown in 2018. There’s always been just a handful of passengers. But this week, as I rode northbound from King Street, people kept clambering on. By the time we reached my stop near Bloor, the vehicle was so packed that I almost couldn’t get out. I also talked to my daughter who last week drove over the border to the U.S. at Niagara. Going into the U.S., there was no...
One of the best reads in the always thoughtful London Review of Books is the Letters page. In it, readers correct mistakes from previous issues, add information they felt was missing, and generally show off their wit and wisdom. In a recent issue, dated June 26, appears an unusual letter, even for the LRB. Written by one Benjamin Letzler, of Modling, Austria, the author – for reasons best known to himself – quotes numerous renowned writers who have castigated Britain. In particular, Letzler mentions a two-column list of which he is aware, a list that apparently fills the better part...
First off, unless you’re referring to artificial ice for hockey, anything that’s called artificial can never be as good as the real thing. I dislike Artificial Intelligence. There, I’ve declared my views on AI right up front. After all, AI is attempting to stand in for human thinking. Why does anyone thoughtful want to have anything to do with something that purports to do that? As a writer, I never use AI. If I did, it would be like a house painter giving over his job to the first person who walks by. I’m told the more you use AI,...
The older I get, the more I remember the past with clarity. By the time I went to kindergarten, I could read on my own. My father had nightly read to me and listened while I read from a range of books including those by Thornton W. Burgess. I can vividly remember pronouncing “gnaw” in The Adventures of Danny Meadow Mouse with a hard “g” as if it had two syllables – g-naw – and being corrected. As a result of his fine tutelage I became an early and avid reader at the Carnegie Library in Guelph. The children’s books...
As a writer, I love language. When I think back to my university days, I shake my head at the many and varied forms of the English language with which I struggled to become familiar. First, there was Old English, which was closer to Norse than anything recognizable today. A typical pair of words in Old English looked something like this, “Pæs oferéode,” meaning “That was overcome.” Old English was used until the Norman conquest of England in 1066. Those invaders carried out an inventory called the Domesday Book of all the captured buildings. Included was the church in Earsham,...
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,...
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...
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,...
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,...
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