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www.oakvillebeaver.com · OAKVILLE BEAVER Thursday, December 17, 2009 · 6 The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5571 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate.The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Commentary Guest Columnist NEIL OLIVER Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West DAVID HARVEY Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief ROD JERRED Managing Editor DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director SANDY PARE Business Manager MARK DILLS Director of Production MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution SARAH MCSWEENEY Circ. Manager WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com Canada's image in Copenhagen is tarred and dirty Meagan McKeen Meagan McKeen, Canadian Youth Delegation to Copenhagen RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: T United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION MICHAEL IVANIN / SPECIAL TO THE BEAVER A COMMUNITY CELEBRATION: Singer Suzanne Brown and Lou Ballogh perform Jingle Bells at the annual Christmas Tree Lighting Celebration at Community Living Oakville. ravelling around the world, we Canadians proudly display the maple leaf on our backpacks. Not here in Copenhagen. Here, the Harper minority government does not represent us. In fact, 75 per cent of us are embarrassed that the Canadian federal government is not taking stronger action to reduce greenhouse gases. Our negotiators are not even representing the majority of the Parliament. A week before coming to Copenhagen, Opposition parties collectively called for science-based targets of 25-40 per cent emission reductions below 1990 levels and strong international leadership. But forget leadership, Canada apparently can't even seem to be a follower. Canada is the only G7 country without a federal renewable energy program. The United States out-invests us in renewable energy per capita 14:1. We claim to be in line with the Obama administration's position, and although the numbers may appear similar, this is far from true. The U.S. legislation has a concrete plan to implement its reduction targets and we have yet to see one from Canada. What we did see, though, was an outrageous new plan in the form of a report leaked by the CBC. The new plan would allow emissions in the oil and gas sectors to grow 155 per cent as opposed to 165 per cent. This represents a target three times weaker than that in a plan of which we were already ashamed. It makes me stop to wonder when enough really is enough. Are Canadians going to stand by while this federal government not only embarrasses us, but commits the future of our young people to catastrophe? Today as I paid for my lunch, the clerk complimented me on the pin I was wearing. The pin depicts a maple leaf dripping in oil. He asked, with a heavy Danish accent, "Where do I get one of those?" It's sad to say, but this is the image that the government has painted for Canada on the global stage: tarred, dirty, and falling behind. A modern-day Scrooge, or a guy with no time on his hands? T he countdown is on in earnest. Christmas is coming. There's no stopping it. And, unless you have connections way high up, you can't even slow it down. You know how the Boy Scout motto is be prepared? Well, I was never a Boy Scout and, perhaps not coincidentally, these days it seems like I'm never prepared. As an aside, let it be known that I had every intention of becoming a Boy Scout. However, when I attended my first Cub Scout meeting, the kid sitting next to me threw up all over the place, awakening my emetophobia and (illogically, I admit) alienating me from the whole scouting culture. Seriously, I should have clearly seen Christmas coming from a long way off. I mean, there were enough early warning signs cracking me over the head. On the day after Labor Day -- and keep in mind, I'm not making this up -- Canada Post delivered a box of Christmas cards distributed by a charitable organization we'd supported in the past. It was 28 degrees and sunny outside: I may have had sunning or swimming on my mind, but not Santa. And then on the day after Halloween, I walked by a worker in the produce department of my local grocery store who was glaring accusingly at the tinny speakers above her head: "I'll promise to have a holly jolly Christmas," she said to the speakers, "if you promise to can the Christmas music until December." More than a month ago, I received a missive from a serial-e-mailer I know informing me that in the current economy the Twelve Days of Christmas would cost $87,403, up $794 from last year. Good to know, I thought, in case I'm runAndy Juniper ning out to buy my true love the old 12 drummers drumming, 11 pipers piping, 10 lords-a-leaping (not surprisingly, the first thing on my wife's wish list), etc. And just last Friday night, I found myself on top of the world looking down on creation, which is to say, that following my wife's office Christmas party, I was ensconced in a bodacious room on the 31st floor of the Hilton hotel in downtown Toronto overlooking a starry night in The Big Smoke. While office parties are oftentimes train wrecks, the people in her office just seem to click, ensuring these affairs are always enjoyable: great food, company and conversation. Granted, there was one tense moment near midnight, after the karaoke had been broken out, when someone insisted I take a turn with the Carpenters' On Top of the World (looking down on creation). I feigned oncoming laryngitis. And the soiree was saved. Surely, at some point at the party, or in the reflective moments post-party at the Hilton, all the dots would have connected: the countdown is on in earnest. Christmas is coming. But I remain `ostrich-sized' from the season, head buried in sand. I guess the question is: Why? In my premature dotage have I become a modern-day Scrooge? Nah. I think it's more about pace-of-life, and my inability to either keep up with it, or slow it down. Last June, I made the mistake of blinking and summer was gone. On that day after Labor Day when I received those early bird Christmas cards, I blinked once again and now I'm rushing to get done all those Christmassy things that truly should be done slowly, savoured and enjoyed. Hey, if you're still looking for a gift for me, how about a little spare time. Andy Juniper can be visited at www.strangledeggs.com, contacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com, and followed at www.twitter.com/thesportjesters.