We were struck by a headline in last week’s newspaper. It read, “If wishes were horses.”
It was all about community amalgamation and what a can of worms it could lead to. There are many pros and cons in the arguments but we will leave that for another day.
Our thoughts are on the headline. It reminds us of one of our own favourite expressions, “If yeah buts were rabbits, and rain were beer, we would be dining tonight with good food and cheer.”
Well, it goes something along those lines!
We went looking for some clarity of the saying because, even though we use it once in awhile, we never could remember the exact ending. Although rabbits are a treat in many cultures and households, it does seem to put some people off hearing it.
The best we could come up with in our search is, “If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a very merry Christmas.”
“But, but, but . . . you say?”
And we never did find out the ending to, “If wishes were horses.”
We won’t mention the town, but it could be yours. Or maybe one you were visiting. A citizen was complaining how dirty their particular town was. “It never used to be this way.”
She wasn’t talking about buildings or dirt on sidewalks or streets, although indeed there is even still a lot of that left over from another winter. She was talking about the litter blowing here and piled there. Tossed against that wall. Dumped in that gutter. Emptied on this parking lot.
There was a time long, long ago, (maybe in a galaxy far, far away) that Spring Clean-Up was a routine event in most communities. It still happens, with a handful of summer students out picking up garbage and mowing boulevards and ditches. That really isn’t the point, is it?
The point is, not who is responsible for picking up all this trash. It’s who is responsible for tossing the trash on the ground in the first place! You! Your kids! Your brother-in-law or sister-in-law! Hard to believe it’s your grandparents!
Speaking of which, any person of ‘elder’ age would be disgusted if they took a look at some of the schools around the Peace Country that allow students to dump their smoke butts and lunch trash on neighbouring properties. There are indeed a few.
Back to our original topic, there’s nothing wrong with having a clean town, is there?
If stories from towns and cities across Canada are any indication, governments collecting money from taxpayers, then giving it away to clubs, teams, social groups and any needful charity is not only a common practice, it is getting bigger and bigger.
Once in awhile, a local government elected councillor will speak out about the practice. He or she is usually shot down, or at best, quietly voted down, when that councillor wants an end to handing out cash, or at least a slowdown.
As was often said in ancient times by grumpy old councillors, “Donating money to kid’s events is fine by me. But adults can pay their own way.”
As the years went by, many causes made good cases for ‘adult’ events, like rodeos and tournaments and conventions. And of course, hockey and football arenas and stadiums.
But just to remind you, here is a quote from “King of the Wild Frontier” Davy Crockett. Crockett was a famous outdoorsman in the early 1800s who died at Battle of The Alamo in 1836. Before that, Crockett was also an elected United States congressman. Here is what he had to say in those days:
“I will not go into an argument to prove that Congress has no power to appropriate this money as an act of charity. Every member on this floor knows it. We have the right, as individuals, to give away as much of our own money as we please in charity. But as members of Congress we have no right so to appropriate a dollar of the public money.”
Some people would argue we have gone so far beyond that we are taking public money, using it to spend hundreds of millions on sports stadiums making billionaires happy in the name of civic pride and, of course, not forgetting the ‘little person.’ How so you ask? Well, free drugs for openers.
Both examples, in the end, courtesy of you and me.
At least it’s mostly all kept down to a dull roar. Just seems to be creeping to bigger and bigger amounts.
“What am I doing? I’m darning one of your old socks. What does it look like I’m doing? Knitting pants for a fish?” – Grandma Smithers
“Listen waiter, I’ll give you dang ‘nouvelle bloody cuisine.’ I’ve seen more meat on my wife’s dentures. We’ve paid good money to eat in this restaurant, so I least expect a steak that looks like it can stand up for itself in a fight with a sprig of parsley.” – Grandpa Jonesy.