I recently heard it reported by an authoritative US news network that the American Dream no longer holds the stock it once did. Apparently popular acceptance of the myth is on the decline. Not surprising I suppose, considering the combined phenomena of bank collapses, investment market shrinkage, unemployment and the looming Chinese dominance. Even with the contemporary successes of Microsoft, Facebook and Google, the perceived chance of an immigrant graduating from the kitchen of the Waldorf Astoria to become its owner is now considered more fanciful than real. The general theory seems to be that it won’t be the little guy who makes a difference; rather that the rich will simply get richer. “them’s that’s got, gets”.

While there may indeed be some among us who harbour the ornate hope or expectation of becoming a zillionaire, I suspect the majority of us are content to have an interesting career and perhaps one that pays somewhat better than bus drivers (who frankly appear to be doing quite well). This capitulation to mediocrity may in the opinion of some be an acknowledgement of defeat. I prefer to balance the view by reminding myself that most of us in North America already have so much more than the rest of the world that I have trouble convincing myself that another billion will improve my life measurably; it’s one of those diminishing returns things. I mean to say, there’s only so much food one can eat and so many cars one can drive. And even in a 2,500 square foot house I only occupy the kitchen and the study with any regularity. The bigger challenge is to improve on the view from within rather than the view from without.

I will of course acknowledge that I am still impressed by a Rolls Royce. One slipped by quietly the other day, a plain charcoal colour with darkened windows and an obvious presence. I sat up and took notice, no question! But really, unless you have the right place to park it and unless you intend to drive it only where there is the remotest likelihood of having it repaired if need be, you’re pretty much imprisoned by it, not to mention the cost of maintaining and insuring it and sustaining everything else that goes along with it. And I can’t imagine that even if I hadn’t to worry myself about those trifles I would be any different from the person I am now. It is just another reminder that “there ain’t no ship to take you away from yourself”.

In that respect the American Dream is best kept as a dream, affording us the privilege of cherished ambition without having to admit to self-deluding fantasy. The hope of becoming a billionaire is about as transparent and probable as winning the lottery though it doesn’t diminish inspired optimism. What is more foreseeable is that few of us are prepared to do what it takes to become an exceptional success. Let’s not forget the unglamorous truth of success. As Phyllis Diller said, “The harder I work, the luckier I get”. And it isn’t just the hard work, it’s the sacrifices along the way. We all have heard of the wear and tear of hard work upon personal relationships. Then there are the stories of endless denial and skimping to get where one is going. In the end you’re left holding all the marbles but quite alone and burned out.

Such dark stories may be nothing more than sour grapes. Who will ever know the state of mind of the average billionaire? I remain however persuaded that the only contest worth the effort is to do the best you can with what you have, no matter the outcome. The little I know about billionaires is that frequently they were motivated by what they were doing, not by how much money it was going to make them. In the result, the instruction is the same for us all.

One mustn’t become despondent about having failed to reach the pinnacle of commercial success. In elementary terms, comparison on any level is fraught with hazard. Remember, if you’re reading this, you’re still here and Steve Jobs is dead. That is a blunt observation and maybe unnecessarily extreme but the illustration of any point is always made easier by acute examples. And if it comes down to a question of fairness, that enquiry is about as useful as trying to fathom how a roulette wheel really works. I am prepared to abandon the aspiration to become a billionaire and to settle for the uncharted depths of my personal experience. If the price of things matters I suppose it is arguable that no amount of money will ever purchase what is mine and mine alone as small a compliment as that may be in the minds of others. Besides, even if someone were to ask how much I wanted for it, I’m not sure a billion would suffice!

Perfection, as illusory as the topic may resound, is nonetheless the goal of untold characters. It isn’t for example the isolated stronghold of the fastidious obsessive who unabashedly arranges the things on his desk at the end of the day with the calibration of an engineer. Nor is it exclusively the domain of (apparently) less contrived male and female models with unblemished skin and satiny hair. By contrast the pursuit of perfection is alive among such conventional candidates as automobile enthusiasts who spend hours detailing their vehicles in preparation for an ephemeral but rewarding Saturday afternoon drive on dry pavement.

Given the certain philosophical debate whether a circle is more perfect than a square and that the answer is in any event virtually irrelevant it must be allowed that the pursuit of perfection is as much about the process as the plan; getting there is half the fun. There is so much latitude about what constitutes perfection that to adopt one model over another is not only impossible but also conceivably pointless. Nonetheless such approximations seldom diminish the search for what might be unobtainable though not otherwise unreasonable. Who after all can fault another for aiming for the highest standards? And what dissatisfaction is there in having tried to get there?

The only risk I can see in commitment to a supreme measure of quality is that its occupation may become insatiable. Where the parameters of perfection are so obviously lacking in definition, one has to wonder where it all ends? Herein lies the one very practical element of perfection; namely not only that its pursuit may prove to be unattainable but also that its utility is indefinable. There is the danger of becoming caught in a relentless running wheel with about as much hope of reaching the end.

People yet cling to the hope of impressing their notion of perfection on what they do or upon the things they own. Even though it is unimaginable that there will ever be anything approaching the sublime concept of perfection, the pursuit of unparalleled excellence is the motivation of many. And while the result may not be exactly awe-inspiring this isn’t to say that it is ridiculous. Just as we have developed such words as “patina” and “character” to accommodate the patent yet tolerable flaws of things and people, the products of age and experience, so too we can adopt a level of absolution for the short-comings of our subjective perfection without having to capitulate entirely to lower standards. It may simplify the argument for or against the pursuit of perfection to consider the matter in the context of alternatives; viz., the choice of the lesser of two evils, perfection or mediocrity. And I suppose that if taken to the extreme we confront the final question in life: Does anything really matter? But it flies in the face of nature to eliminate our sensibilities entirely. Like it or not, most of us have our standards and for some that standard is perfection.

It may help resolve the conundrum to examine the etymology of the term perfection. Its historical development gives us a significant clue to not only its meaning but also its vagary. Facere (to make or do) and Per (through) gives us “perficio” which is to say “to make it through to the end” or “to finish” whence the modern concept of completeness arises and thus its association with superlatives. Eventually the word was meant to imply sufficiency in the sense of attainment of purpose, itself a hint at the early philosophical concept of harmony and the later Christian doctrine of flawlessness. Whatever interpretation is preferred it remains that it is the striving for perfection that captures its root, including the constancy of such striving (“He who stops, regresses” – Augustine). Even apart from the religious spin, the aesthetic quality of perfection which characterized the Pythagoreans contained an underlying dogma of beauty which was not only apt (suitable) but without deviation. In the result we haven’t the need to contaminate our efforts by possible failure if we only seek to complete the course. It is but an inductive leap from this initial proposition to the further paradox that the greatest perfection is imperfection. This latter theory encompasses the element that incompleteness is by its nature stimulus for unending improvement as true perfection depends upon progress. How relieving! Each of us may in the result be far closer to perfection than we might previously have imagined!

We have just returned from a summer vacation in Florida.  This is the first time since I was seventeen years old that I have taken a summer holiday. Granted there may have been holidays when I returned home from university but those so-called vacations were really nothing more than blank time between summer jobs and returning to school.  As I said, the last time I recall a true summer holiday was the summer I spent on the Costa Brava in Spain, then Paris, France and Stockholm, Sweden when I was seventeen years old.

In this instance our original plan had been to go to Shediac, New Brunswick during the same two-week period at the beginning of July.  This direction was primarily because my late father was from New Brunswick and I have for years harboured some regret at not having acquainted myself with his roots. However our penchant for Fort Lauderdale (which we have visited several times before) won the day when we reasoned the likelihood of encountering masses of families with children on the northern Atlantic seaboard.  It turns out we were wrong about the distinction as the resort in Florida was surprisingly popular with families (and their horrid children).

In any event the southern detour was not without its compensating moments. I refer specifically to the epiphany I experienced upon the day of our departure from Fort Lauderdale. In our customary anxiety to get on with things we found ourselves putting suitcases into the trunk of the car at the front door of the resort at 1:30 a.m. on Friday, July 18th.  This early hour activity is amusingly not unusual for us when once we have set our collective mind to a task.  As we quietly made our way out of Fort Lauderdale and onto the Interstate 95 North my mind for some reason turned to a contemplation of my candidacy in the upcoming municipal election.  This was a concern which had preoccupied me since I filed my nomination papers with the Clerk of the Town on April 30th last.  Perhaps the recent weeks spent swimming in the warm Atlantic waters, the leisurely evening meals and the days spent at the spa and in the sun all combined to remind me of the pleasures of the southerly climate generally.  And more especially to remind me of my dread of Canadian winters.  In addition I had lately been warned by the Town Clerk and those familiar with municipal matters generally that the agenda for new Councillors is particularly onerous during the first few months after the election (which is to be held on October 27th next).  Along the way I had made some casual investigations about the cost of flying back from the south to attend Council meetings; the initial enquiries were not encouraging.

I should add that this past January we had booked two months on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.  These arrangements were subsequently abruptly reversed after I announced my candidacy for election and indeed upon our request our full account payment was returned to us.  As we drove north from Florida I was overcome with the silliness of what I had precipitated.  It may also have helped sober me on the point that only days before I had resigned my tenure as a columnist with the Millstone News (our local electronic newspaper) upon discovery that either no one or very few were reading what I had worked so hard to write.  The effect of that revelation was a combination of disappointment and recognition that I had successfully deceived myself into thinking I had any special literary talent to offer.  The effect of it was to estrange me from anything which depended upon public approbation.  The resulting seclusion caused me to rethink other important matters in my life and to reassess what was important to me and to me alone.  I realized that being on Hilton Head Island in the winter was something I had long anticipated and I decided in a flash that I wasn’t about to let it slip through my fingers a second time.  While driving out of Florida on that dark early morning road I telephoned Shawna Stone, Clerk to advise that I was withdrawing my nomination for election.

The obvious corollary to this seemingly hurried decision was a call to our estate agent on Hilton Head Island.  I reiterated our desire to secure a tenancy of the same home.  When that was done we made the concerted decision to detour Georgia and drive instead to Hilton Head Island to settle the matter in person.  Since we had left Fort Lauderdale so early in the morning we were on Hilton Head Island by approximately one o’clock in the afternoon.  Denis insisted that we get some lunch before directing ourselves to the estate agent.  We ended by going to Signes, our favourite spot for lemon crumble squares among other things.  Actually I am mistaken about the order of things.  We went to the Marriott resort and spa in Palmetto Dunes first, only to discover that there was virtually no accommodation on the entire Island.  It was only with luck and the gratuitous interference of the Marriott front desk clerk that we secured a place nearby (and to which we shall never return).

All this is by way of preamble.  What has significantly transpired in this short space of time is that I have transformed my project of living from a remake of the standard career model to a veritable retirement scheme.  In an instant I have cut myself loose from commitment and obligation.  In retrospect I see that at the beginning of the New Year (2014) things were happening so fast on the heels of the sale of the office building that I hadn’t allowed myself time to digest my rapidly unfolding affairs.  My anticipated retirement from the practice of law went from a target date of November 30, 2014 to March 31, 2014.  Commensurately the office was precipitously shut down and files transferred to my successor.  On January 1st we hadn’t given any thought whatever to the sale of our house; yet within about fifteen days it was sold and we had effected the ultimate “downsize” including the disposition of tons of surplus stuff we had accumulated for years.  The metaphorical nature of the purge was not lost upon us.  Yet in the heat of the moment I clung to the former need to “do something” which inevitably translated into something I characterized as “productive”.  When therefore several of my colleagues suggested I throw my hat into the election arena I fell for the confidence and mistakenly took up the challenge without a great deal of thought.  In many ways it is an ideal time of my life to undertake public office.  If nothing else it was an opportunity to use my knowledge of the area to good purpose.  But the project collided with what our other plans.  Suddenly I was reminded of those plans and I began the immediate withdrawal from the election campaign.

Now that we have returned to Almonte and now that our destiny is set in stone, my peripheral affairs have correspondingly readjusted.  For example I have given notice of my retirement from the Committee of Adjustment of which I am a member.  My tenure as a Director of the Mississippi River Power Corporation is conveniently about to expire as the Town has already given notice that original Directors such as myself are to be retired after having been on the Board since its creation in 2000.  When I collated all this information I could see that my official duties had nicely dovetailed into imminent obscurity.  In my usual way I view this as serendipitous if indeed not auspicious.  All said it was a good summer holiday.

In a world of surging intricacy it is still the simple things that grab me most. This is I confess a somewhat naive observation. I accept for example that when it comes to technology it isn’t feasible to “keep it simple”. There are nonetheless so many other areas of modern life which lend themselves to far less serpentine calculations. While it may trivialize the manufacturing process to say that I count gold and silver among the simple things in life, it at least illustrates that it is the comprehensible rather than the incomprehensible about which I speak. Some things are just self-evident. On a level closer to home a bowl of fresh strawberries and heavy cream are about as good as it gets! In that respect simplicity is so often associated with what is elemental. The conjunction of primary forces and nature is not to be ignored as primitive as it may at first appear. It may even spark a supernatural manifestation in the form of purity, clarity and of course healthfulness.

By contrast complexity is frequently teamed up with cunning and treachery. Indeed the best smoke screen for chicanery is compound detail. How often has it been said that if someone genuinely knows what they are talking about they can explain it in simple terms? The appeal of simplicity is its readiness to exposition, adoption, incorporation or digestion. To say “It’s complicated” is as often as not merely code for deceit.

Embracing the simple things in life invariably involves the rejection of any other. Almost by definition the simple life exacts a degree of austerity. Granted this may be more aesthetic than economic. The deficiency is perhaps more perceptual than substantive but in every instance there persists a feature of restraint, a starkness reminiscent of sobriety and chastity. The preference for simplicity translates into basics on almost every level echoing that which is rudimentary and essential. Taken to the extreme simplicity can become purely binary though in my opinion exclusive duality does little credit to the depth of the characteristic. Consider for example the intensity of the primary colours, the dynamic and distinctive jewel tones which capture a distinction often expressed in traditional and religious significance.

Simplicity has insinuated itself into some of the most unlikely aspects of life, everything from food to fashion, cars to shelter, furniture to hair design and of course language and art. As a former legal practitioner I regret that the bias has not yet completely overtaken the hackneyed language of law but there is no question that it is happening gradually. Simplicity affords not only intelligibility but is by far less mind-numbing than complexity. Apart from the possible nefarious objective of complexity one has to ask why bother with it when a less soul-destroying avenue is open for pursuit?

Though much of the texture of simplicity is conjoined with the visceral experience one mustn’t discount its equally compelling spiritual and emotional strength. Just as we declutter our material world to afford the simple life so too we set free our minds from the bollards to which we are traditionally tied. There is a risk that setting ourselves free of constraint will in some instances cause offence either because our agenda is too patent and plain or because our social conventions are less contrived and therefore more grating or discernible. The profit however is painless and unaffected communication.

It is a mistake to dismiss the simple life as simplistic. Remember that the process of distillation is all about removing impurities and the resulting nectar is typically of higher quality and potency. It is a process of extracting the essential meaning and important aspects of something, a process of separating component substances based on volatility. The cream will rise to the top.

There are any number of things which transpire in life about which we have little or no concern. It is however equally true that if we were to suffer the deprivation of those same things we might find ourselves up in arms. The fact of the matter is that we take a great deal for granted and just assume that there is a hidden management which is taking care of what are important but otherwise uninspiring details of daily living. I am here talking of municipal politics. With the exception of very few constituents, and except when there is a particularly hot topic which occasionally engages the momentary interest of the populace, most people haven’t the time for what is seamlessly happening in their own backyard and under their noses.

It is only fair to excuse the disinterest of the so-called “average citizen” by acknowledging that there is already sufficient to occupy him or her. There are not many who have nothing better to do than to stew over such dry matters as the annual cost of dealing with pot holes ($3,496,755.00), garbage collection ($1,555,713.00), libraries ($479,617.00), fire trucks ($669,624.00), council administration ($948,890.00), policing ($1,683,204.00) or even the county and schools ($9,991,340.00). It may indeed surprise you to know that the Chief Administrative Officer of the Town of Mississippi Mills and the elected Council are handling an annual budget of about $22,000,000.

It is normally only at the time of an election that interest is sparked in local government and even then the involvement of the electors is often confined to an “All Candidates” evening or perhaps a brief chat with a prospective councillor on the street or at one’s front door (admittedly a rare event). The elector is badgered into moderate activity by the embarrassment of civic duty and electoral privilege. But this is a passing admonition and one which is easily expiated by casting a vote on election day or at one of the advanced polls. Once that duty is accomplished the constituent can safely ease back into private matters for another four years.

As neglectful as most of us are of the mundane processes of municipal affairs it is oddly true that if asked almost everyone has a strong opinion about what should or should not be done. The involvement is traditionally selective and as a result is frequently out of context, rather like assessing a buffet on the strength of one dish. Nonetheless politics is very much like any other primal appetite in that its appeal if any derives from immediate need or instinctive interest – such as road maintenance or realty taxes. Technical commotions relating to proposed zoning changes or minor variances of by-laws are virtually negligible unless promoted by your next door neighbour.

I would be hard pressed to deny that municipal politics is generally considered the least absorbing of the three levels of government. To lapse into dismay about this state of affairs is hardly worth the effort. Imagining that there is a realistic chance of heightening a sustained interest in local government is akin to retailing the Christmas spirit all year long. The attraction is bound to be short-lived. Nonetheless I believe that in politics as in all other spheres there is advantage to be derived from knowledge. It is a mistake to assume that the questionable curiosity of the masses will be sustained by politicians merely doing their job. Government, being as it is so closely aligned with the legislative process, must, like the administration of law itself, not only be done but must be seen to be done. Accountability like sunlight is not only a disinfectant but also an inspiration. Constituents will I believe respond favourably to disclosure about community administration.

Once the interest of people is tweaked it remains to stimulate their involvement by encouraging communication. Opinions fuelled by knowledge can reveal some delightful ramifications. No longer is it sufficient to presume that the pubic is unamused by the business of the municipality. More than ever the importance of the democratic process and the supremacy of the majority have strengthened the need for and desirability of public participation. If nothing else in a community such as ours the incredible intellectual resources of our citizens is not to be diminished or disregarded.