Who is this wise guy?
Who is the author of these opinionated opinions?
I have been sounding off at this site for a number of months. I have been told that there are a few adventurous souls who have visited this site and, perhaps, have even read what I said. Some of my visitors may even be curious about who writes these columns. So, to dispel the mystery of the unknown author; what follows is a brief and mostly truthful story of my life so far. It was a journey through both time and enlightenment.
I was born in the Netherlands in 1943 and my parents dragged me to Canada in 1953. There I started slow but gained momentum until at age 75, I lost my zeal and bowed out of the contest. After a year or so of lethargy and sloth, ambition revived, and I decided to do some writing. My plan was to express opinionated opinions. I am qualified to express opinionated opinions because of my varied experiences and interactions with many persons over many years. From those many persons I heard lots of opinions. Every one has opinions, and almost everyone expresses them. Most people insisted their opinions were correct when they were only personal views, emotional expressions, unrealistic, wishful thinking, biased and downright prejudicial. But I also learned from many wise persons that while most opinions were suspect, there were some opinions, fewer than believed, that were worth remembering and adhering to.
I finished Grade school in Vancouver at a private Christian school where I completed Grade 8. I then joined the ranks of the workers and apprenticed as an upholsterer at Restmore Furniture at age fourteen. It was making furniture on an assembly line. On the first day on the job, quitting time never came. Time loitered. The mindless repetition made the day last forever. Halfway through that day I decided that assembly line upholstery was not for me. But due to a need for income, I stayed on that job for several years. Fortunately, in spite of my best efforts, the business went bankrupt. I was thrown out on the street along with a hundred others and we were all left to fend for ourselves. Income security is not part of the vocabulary for manual laborers. What I learned from my co-workers is that we all have ambitions to live a reasonably good life with a modicum of financial security. But I also learned that an income from manual labor would barely afford that. And along the way I learned some rudiments of factory assembly line upholstery.
Navigating the labyrinth of the Unemployment Commission to obtain benefits to tide me over and to which I had contributed, taught me that government benefit programs, although well intended, soon lose their way and treat applicants for benefits as cheaters seeking free money. After a two week, lackadaisical, search for a new job, I went to work in a grocery super market. I got the job through a referral from a family friend. Another example of; it’s not what you know, but who you know that gets results. After a few days on that job, I soon learned that after a day at the supermarket I had a surplus of energy. Seeing as my pay at the supermarket also would not afford my ambitions, I decided to become an auto mechanic which would kill two birds with one stone, I could build my self a hot rod in my spare time and, as a mechanic, make more money. After a year of night classes, I completed the beginners auto mechanic course. I applied to take the second course and I was told that I needed to complete Grade X math before I could enroll. Nothing daunted I went to a private school and signed up for Grade 9 and 10 night math classes and while there I thought I may as well also sign up for Grade 9 and 10 English. Thus commenced another year of bagging groceries and stocking shelves at the store during the days and attending classes at night.
I soon learned that I liked academics more than mechanics and the yearning after a hot rod waned with more maturity. I therefore continued with night school after work and at age 19 I completed high school. Vainly, I now saw myself as well educated and knowing almost everything. My know it all attitude was freely inflicted on all and sundry. But I still needed a career. Auto mechanic had lost its charms. I needed a replacement. But in the short run a friend and I resolved that a trip around the world, financed with earning to be made as deckhands on freighters that plied the world’s oceans would be a fun year and we made plans accordingly. On the cusp of setting out my friend pulled out and I was left with no plans. I decided to see if I could enroll in a college and as our church was affiliated with Calvin College and Seminary in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I called them on the telephone and they said that they would admit me to the college on probation, if I passed the Scholastic Aptitude Test. The last SAT for the year would be administered in three days at the college. If I took the test, and the test showed I had some aptitude, I would be accepted as student. A rush to get to Grand Rapids ensued, I left for Grand Rapids the next day and the day after that, I took the test and must have displayed some aptitude because I was admitted on probation.
Upon being admitted to the college as a student, I applied for a student visa and was granted a four year visa with an option to renew for one year. Then followed five years of studies and good times, some of which were devoted to the weekly student publication. Writing for the student weekly, I first learned that, although I still considered my thoughts brilliant, my prose and reasoning expressing those thoughts were lamentable. And I soon had the first inklings of my ignorance.
Of course most of my time was taken up with class attendance, studying and contributing to the student paper. But I also needed income. The time that was left was therefore filled with part time employment which over the years along with summer employment raised sufficient funds to keep body and soul together and scrape up the tuition for the next semester. And as the years went by there was a slight improvement in my communication skills, which remained woefully inadequate. In 1965 I met Marjorie and we started dating and have not stopped since then. In 1967 near the end of four years of undergraduate studies, Marjorie and I married. I decided to continue with studies as I had still to complete some courses to graduate and Marjorie was in the class behind mine so we would graduate together in the spring of 1968. We made an attempt to make a plan for life. My options were to join the U.S. Army and apply for U.S. citizenship and hopefully, after basic training, I would be assigned a non combat role, perhaps even a post graduate education that would lead to a career. But the odds of that happening were long as the Vietnam war was ramping up. The U.S Army needed every able body the chase Vietnamese in the jungle. I decided to avoid any path that could lead to my joining that war. That left an option to pursue graduate studies in history. That pursuit would likely grant me a one or two year extension of my student visa. My professors were prepared to recommend me to pursue such studies at various universities. The graduate school option would put me on a track to teach undergraduates and spend a life in academia. Not out of the question but not immensely attractive either.
That left law school because law schools take anybody who shows some aptitude and academic background does not matter so much. Because my U.S. student visa was expiring it would have to be a law school in Canada. We decided on Dalhousie University Law School located in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Part of the attraction was that several New England states recognized a law degree from Dalhousie, so, if the war ended within three years, we could go back to the U.S. and practice law in one or other New England state. The law school application grind began and ended up with several acceptances as I was hedging our bets. My preferred choice, Dalhousie, also came through. Then in April of 1968 Marjorie and I began to plan our sojourn to Nova Scotia.
By now you have without a doubt realized that all our plans were destined to fail. So far the paths taken were the only choices left. They were taken because there were no alternatives. On top of that there was not a real desire to pursue any kind of career. And going to law school was just a stab in the dark. The visa was running out, to renew meant grad school, to apply for citizenship was checked mated by the Vietnam War and illegal stay, subject to arrest and deportation, was unacceptable. So, off to law school. Truly Robbie Burns described it best, “The best laid plans of mice and men, they often go awry”.
The first day of my arrival at law school the professor posed a real life problem from a real precedent which had no logical or legal solution, but did have a practical result. Not based on law but based on avoiding future conflict. I was hooked and stayed with law for another 50 years without regrets. First came law school, then apprentice to a senior lawyer, then an associate in the firm and then partner and a switch to partner in another firm and then to my own solo practice which I carried on for nearly 36 years. I was one of the last generalists and practiced law in various areas with concentrations in criminal law, family law and personal injury claims. In short, I was a small town country lawyer.
Because I worked many different kinds of jobs, I worked with people from all walks of life. All of them had the normal ambitions and hopes and for most their disappointments were blamed on the government of the day or on the squeeze put on them on by owners, employers or managers, often by all of them. And being a generalist lawyer, I worked for clients from all different levels of society. Some clients were well to do and others had to scrape together the fees they could not afford and still others had no money at all and had to apply for Legal Aid. Not the ingredients for a lucrative law income but enough to get by with a little left over. But at the same time I was not a slave to the corporate interests and pretty much took on cases I wanted to do. As a result I met and spoke with many people and formed a good idea what most of them wanted from their lives.
I soon learned that elected representatives, appointed government bureaucrats and senior business managers had little understanding and miniscule sympathy for the plight of the common man. I think it goes with the territory. If you win an election the main aim from then on is the win again. If you have succeeded as a government bureaucrat, the main aim is to keep the position and strive to better appointments with more perks. If you are a senior business manager the main aim is to keep the job and that means you have to make more money for the shareholders. All of that striving leaves little time to understand people you will hardly get to know and certainly you will have no time to develop sympathy and understanding of their aims and hopes.
The point of my various opinions then is a common sense approach to political, cultural and social issues, which take into account the wishes, hopes and ambitions of most of the people. The aim is not to represent government, bureaucracy or business but to express what most ordinary people would think of those issues. As I have mentioned ideas float into consciousness all the time. However, expressing those opinions in a logical and reasonable manner in an readable style is difficult. But over many years of writing, for the student newspaper, research papers for classes and mostly legal briefs for many years there was some improvement in saying what I thought. But none of those experiences displaced one basic idea that I learned later in my career and that is “ Don’t believe what you think”. The other is that context is always changing and new theories and beliefs have to be adopted to make sense of it all. It follows, that opinions are fleeting. They are valid for a short time only and need constant up dating and changing. Therefore the best opinion about opinions is not to get attached to them.