Ben at the bell console, St Paul's Presbyterian Church, Hamilton, ON

This weekend, the boys and I visited St Paul’s Presbyterian Church in downtown Hamilton in a Doors Open 2012 event. This church has a splendid Casavant Frères organ, which the organist was playing when we arrived. St. Paul’s is a beautiful Victorian church, built in 1857, that has wonderful stained glass windows and wood carvings. Like most other churches of its type, it appears to suffer from a declining congregation despite its outstanding architectural attractions.

What we thought was especially entertaining in this visit was that they allowed Doors Open visitors to sound the bells of St. Paul’s bell tower using their mechanical controller levers, which are located in a console up in the bell tower. These levers were marked with musical note names and numbers. A carillonneur could consult a musical score that showed these notes and numbers. It wasn’t that difficult to get the hang of the system after a few minutes.

This we thought was a unusually good opportunity for people to play with the bells of an historic church. In fact, I can’t think of another time that I have ever encountered such a thing.

This opportunity the boys took up with gusto and were soon hammering the levers as enthusiastically as they could and attempted to play ‘Mary had a Little Lamb’ with eventual success. A church warden looked on sympathetically and tolerantly as two 12 year old boys tried their hardest to create acoustic mayhem using the church bells. The boys were impressed that the outside city could hear the sounds they produced.

We all thought that this Doors Open visit was reminiscent of another visit to to another Presbyterian church in the little town of Smithville, where the church tour guides were kind enough to allow the boys to operate their historic hand-pumped organ. This also greatly excited the boys in a similar way.

Recently, I visited Halifax, Nova Scotia to celebrate my brother’s 60th birthday. I have a long history in Halifax. My parents, when they were alive, lived about 30km down the coast. I went to architecture school there. I know the city fairly well, yet I found this recent visit to be a bit different than previous ones.

I have always liked visiting Halifax because it is a charming place with various seaside attractions, great wooden architecture, charming old buildings, military fortifications that you climb around on and an interesting waterfront. These things are still around.

For English-speaking Canada it is older than most cities. It is not nearly as old as Montreal or Quebec City, but it doesn’t give the sense that it is a big-box mall pretending to be a real city. It is the real deal.

In the past, despite the relative poverty of NS compared to Ontario there was always this sense that the government looked after most people, and that regardless, even if things were not that prosperous in the interior of the province, at least Halifax which is major regional service centre, would do alright.

What surprised me is the contrast with where I live, Hamilton, Ontario. Previously, Ontario always was the ‘have-province,’ while Nova Scotia was the ‘have-not.’ This is why in previous generations, the traffic would usually go from Nova Scotia to Ontario, Quebec or out West. If you had ambition you would leave town for greener pastures. I found it hard to conceive of any other pattern until now.

Now it looks like if you want to enjoy a charmed life, you might want to consider living in Halifax.

Halifax has beautiful women jogging by in Lululemon gear, eager cyclists who look like they are rushing to a software design seminar. There is no shortage of trendy coffee shops, Japanese lunchtime spots and bike stores selling touring bikes that you could use to explore the Cabot Trail. It looks like a bit like pre-recession College St in Toronto.

Halifax also has a fantastic full-length waterfront boardwalk and a state-of-the-art Farmer’s Market that would not look out of place in Zurich or Oslo. You can imagine well-heeled American tourists tripping over themselves to buy souvenirs in the shops or drinking micro-brews in dozens of stone-walled pubs.

Ontario these days, on the other hand, is taking on some of the rust-belt characteristics of say an Ohio, Michigan or Pennsylvania: the implosion of a once-prosperous manufacturing sector, cities in which new investment or civic amenities go wanting, or even civic governments that care about what citizens want. There is gloom in the air here and many residents are at a loss in how they feel about that.

Of course, the rest of the country, raised on the idea that Ontario always thought much too highly of itself and its alleged cultural advantages, is delighted in this reversal of fortunes.

Things that a cities like Hamilton or Toronto might learn from Halifax:

• Civic amenities such as integrated bike path systems, farmer’s markets and waterfront boardwalks are very effective in attracting educated young people, as well as visitors. These people are always on the look out for new progressive places to set up shop (especially right after they get their professional degrees at Dalhousie).
• A place has to feel ‘cool’ in order to attract these kind of people. Perceptions of being cool come from many interactions that people might have while visiting and can’t easily be manufactured on demand.
• Reactionary or ‘Tea Party’ style politics is the opposite of cool. It is a symptom of a place in decline; it is when people with money feel that in order to protect what they have, they have to start oppressing those without. This tactic never works out very well for economic and cultural development in a city. A civic race to the bottom will never win any place new friends. Downward spirals are never pretty. Life cannot be not just about lowering taxes for people who already enjoy the fruits of the status quo.
• Political systems must give the appearance of being responsive to not only the practical aspects of life but also the deeper issues such as quality of life, art and design.
• A city is should at least appear to be interested in high design standards for new civic infrastructure and the idea that cities should have amenities that give pleasure. In places where the weather is not all that attractive, design can fill a very useful niche.
• Cities must work flat-out–continuously–to attract newcomers with new ideas and preferably a bit of money, otherwise they soon whither and die.

The LRT (light rail transit, a scheme to use streetcars for public transit) seems like a smart idea — one that will encourage productivity and the generation of cultural and material wealth in this city. I believe it will encourage urban revitalization and help to create a critical mass of other good things happening.

First, a personal disclosure. If the LRT is built it will help us personally: the proposed LRT B-line is down at the end of our street. It will surely raise our property values. But since the B-line is many kilometers long, many in this city might be in a similar position.

There have been several articles in the last few weeks suggesting that the LRT concept doesn’t have much support from the current mayor and his city manager.

I believe that if this opportunity is not seized right now the momentum will be lost.

There is an argument that all-day GO train service is more important than LRT. Most LRT supporters would not pit these two issues at odds with one another. They are surely complementary: all-day GO train suggests that much money for Hamilton can be made in Toronto, while the LRT plan suggests that money might be made right here in town. Both ideas should be able to co-exist in perfect harmony.

Transparency of decision-making

One of the benefits of democracy is that decisions are made in an open manner. If a bad idea is about to be axed then it is clear from the public record why this occurred. If an idea is good and it gathers support from many sectors of the population then you expect it to do well.

The enemy of democracy is the idea that the real decision-making takes place behind closed doors.

The reason that doors are usually closed in what is purportedly a democratic process is that the people making the decision to be not want to be held accountable for their own decisions. They want the power to make the decisions but not suffer the consequences if these decisions turn south.

This latest LRT decision seems to fail the transparency test. It is not clear why this LRT idea — given the broad base of support which it has gained — was so abruptly de-prioritized. Is there something here that the ordinary citizen is missing?

Post-industrial malaise and beyond

One thing that really defines current-day Hamilton is the concern about what it wants to become when, and if, all its factories close. In the past, people made money and found employment from industrial production. In the future much less money will likely be made this way.

Hamilton puts itself on the ‘psycho-analytical couch’ perhaps more frequently than other places I lived because it really is puzzling what Hamilton should do for itself in future. I think the LRT debate involves such considerations.

What is clear is that new industries will need to spring up to fill the employment gaps created by the closure of hundreds of Hamilton’s former factories. The nature of these new industries is the source of much debate and anxiety.

This might be like the Pittsburgh experience, but one that is taking much, much longer.

In Pittsburgh it seems like the possibility of a reinvented industrialism was erased almost immediately by the unseemly and quick evacuation of almost all industrial production. If that city was to do well, then people saw that it must go ‘post-industrial.’

The sudden loss of employment in Pittsburgh was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because air quality improved overnight, but a curse because many hundreds of thousand of residents found they had to move from Pittsburgh in order to survive.

At least what this dramatic de-industrialization did was to focus the minds of its civic leaders.

However, in In Hamilton there still might be possibilities of investment and employment in heavy industry.

Therefore, there is significant ambiguity here about whether a post-industrial future might be able to co-exist within a continuing industrial city. There is much to recommend such an idea. Hamilton needs all the money it can get. It is in no position to discourage future industrialization, despite how unattractive this might seem to those who prefer their Hamilton to be grit free.

Therefore, Hamilton may or may not be in the middle of a post-industrial malaise. Yet it may be generations before Hamilton is truly post-industrial. It is quite likely that to become truly ‘post-industrial’ is not even an appropriate goal for Hamilton.

A knowledge economy is certainly attractive in many ways, but what seems most appropriate for Hamilton is a mixed knowledge/industrial economy.

If Hamilton’s economy remains mixed this makes the job of planning for future development trickier. Hamilton must acknowledge the important role that ‘dirty jobs’ play in this city while at the same time encourage — in a forceful way — the influx of people who have no interest in dirty jobs.

LRT and post-industrialization

How then does this involve the LRT debate?

I believe that the issue of whether Hamilton is to have a knowledge-based future or an industrial one is related to the acceptance of the LRT.

LRT seems more aligned to a post-industrial future, while ‘no LRT’ seems best suited to an industrial status quo political position. [I would be interested to know if there is any sociological support for this idea].

In the LRT debate not only the appeal of various technical solutions are at issue but it is also a visioning exercise that involves the psyche of the whole city. What does Hamilton want to become?

In Hamilton there is often the hint of what kinds of pleasures are appropriate for an industrial city of its station. A familiar trope found in the civic discourse is ‘failures that originate in hubris.’ Perhaps the desire for an LRT system — like what you find in the well-heeled cities of Europe — is excessive and unseemly.

LRT opponents suggest that LRT is an inappropriate goal for Hamilton; that it is too fancy, costs too much money and that the public transit status quo is acceptable. LRT supporters counter that the LRT is not only an appropriate and sensible goal but actually the most financially rationally solution.

In the event that Hamilton fails to find its inner Pittsburgh and does not become completely post-industrial in short order, then is LRT still an appropriate solution to public transit and city-building? Many, including myself, believe yes.

Singing fish

Two things that currently give me great pleasure are swimming and singing. I am a beginner singer but an experienced swimmer. Both of these activities are life-affirming and fun. Both require practice and take years to master. I have learned that both depend critically on learning how to breathe properly.

Breath control is a necessary yet not a sufficient condition for competent swimming and singing.

Though, if you can’t get past the initial hurdles of learning to breathe then it is unlikely you will find much enjoyment from these two activities. But if you do, the rewards can be substantial.

Swimming

When I get into the water I feel like I’m at home in a friendly environment. I have spent many hours swimming towards the bottom of pools and lakes, with not a care in the world. Underwater for me is a peaceful, relaxing place. But lately, I spend less time swimming to the bottom and more time lap-swimming in a chlorinated pool.

With swimming, what you want to avoid at all costs is the sensation of drowning. You get this feeling when water gets into your mouth or nose, and down your throat. Only a tiny bit of water is required. It is very unpleasant.

Another annoyance is the tingling sensation when water gets too far up your nose. These sensations are what turn off many beginning swimmers. The trick to enjoying swimming, of course, is to avoid having these sensations at all.

To do this you need to blow out a steady stream of little bubbles out of your nose — and sometimes your mouth — so no water can get in; you use outflowing air to prevent the inflow of water. By blowing air out of your lungs underwater you also prepare for your next breath at the surface.

When you know how to swim, you don’t think about breathing when you jump into a pool because those skills have been automated through practice. If you’ve achieved this automation, then you can concentrate on other things that might need improvement such as your strokes or body position.

Or, you can simply enjoy swimming and let your mind wander. I sometimes get a lot of thinking done when my mind can wander productively.

One of the reasons I love swimming is that the breathing part causes me no concern or reason to panic. I don’t think about it at all; my body seems to know how to do it all on its own.

Singing

Similarly, one goal of learning to sing is to be able to control your voice so you can produce musical tones without the feeling of panic and impending doom.

With singing there are lots of things to consider: the notes of the melody, their duration and what the lyrics are and what they mean. This can be a cognitively demanding activity — especially when you don’t know how to sing very well.

However, in a performance situation you don’t want to be thinking too much. You want your ‘muscle memory’ to take over and your brain to go into autopilot. You need to automate as much of this skill as possible. This obviously requires lots of practice.

Singing without proper breath control can be like drowning. It is not as serious as drowning in water of course but I imagine it would be very debilitating and embarrassing during a performance.

The remedy is to remember to breathe (best done between words and phrases) and to use your breath efficiently while you sing. If you can’t do this, then just fake it and catch a breath as soon you can, without panicking.

Your vocal chords need air passing over them to create sound. Without this no sound comes out. If you run out of air at the wrong point, then you won’t be able to produce a sufficient volume of sound.

However, if you have lots of air in your lungs then you can fill a large, resonant hall with your dulcet tones, which can be very gratifying.

PS. if anyone needs vocal tuition in the Hamilton, Ontario area, I would highly recommend my singing teacher Lucy Bledig. She really knows her stuff.

In design, defining what is required is a complex task. What design requirements are and whether they have been fulfilled is one of the more central issues in design.

In large projects, a large book of requirements is often compiled at the beginning of the design process. This documentation is often brimming with interesting ideas and insights, much like a Victorian novel. However, the problem is that this impressive pile of documentation is usually not referred to as often as it should be later in the design process. The greater the length of this documentation, the harder it is to use. It is extremely easy to forget what you know.

Wouldn’t it be nice if all the content in the entire requirements documentation is executable so you can never miss that important nugget of wisdom buried deep inside?

By executable what I mean is that you can send a command to RSpec: ‘Check all of the specifications now, and report back whether they all still pass.’ If they pass, then they are coloured green, if not, red.

RSpec derives from an innovative approach to software engineering called Extreme Programming or Agile design methodologies, in which tests or specifications are written before the software itself. In order to make sure you are on track, you simply run the specifications that you have accumulated over time to see that they pass. If they do pass, then you can rest easy, otherwise you know where your work lies.

This, I think, is a revolutionary idea. RSpec currently works only on software written in the programming language Ruby but the idea could be applied to other design domains.

A non-software example

Recently in Hamilton Ontario the citizens were witnesses to a particularly farcical site selection process for a new stadium. It migrated from one site to another, like a travelling minstrel show, to land at the eleventh hour at a place which most consider not just a compromise but a true head-scratcher.

Some of the requirements for this stadium were:

• Spend the least amount of money to accommodate an audience of a certain size
• Accommodate both a professional football team as well as an amateur summer games
• Improve the urban quality of the city core
• Make it possible for people to get to the stadium using both public transit as well as private cars
• Make the venue visible so that people travelling past the city are made aware of the stadium

Most of these requirements are typical of such sports stadium and are non-controversial. Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to manage these requirements? However, no: the final site decided upon actually didn’t satisfy some of these basic requirements. It appears that requirements tests were not run as each new site was introduced. If RSpec could have been run, it would still be glowing bright red.

Adequate requirements documentation was almost certainly produced at the beginning of this project, but wasn’t referred to later, or was ignored. This politicization of design requirements is not that uncommon, but it is a setup for the depressing waste of civic resources. This, in a community that can ill afford such waste.

Of course, there is no RSpec yet for the site selection process of new municipal stadiums, nor are the design requirements in form that a tool like RSpec might understand. But this day is coming and I look forward to its arrival.

The Pearl Company, Hamilton, ON

A surprising event happened recently in Hamilton, The Pearl Company announced it was shutting down. The Pearl Company is a cultural enterprise owned and operated by Barbara Milne and Gary Santucci in the Landsdale neighbourhood of Hamilton. The reasons given for their decision to pull out was that they were no longer willing to fight City Hall in a long-running zoning dispute, which apparently has cost them a lot of money over the years.

The Pearl Company has been instrumental in bringing cultural events to one of the most distressed neighbourhoods of Hamilton. It is well known locally for putting on an almost absurdly large number of musical, theatrical and artistic performances in their converted industrial space. They also operate the successful Art Bus, which conducts tours of Hamilton’s art galleries twice a month. By all accounts, and from personal experience, their cultural contribution to the city is of the first order. They are the energizer bunnies of cultural entrepreneurship within the city. In any sensible regime they would be made heroes of urban renewal or be given the keys to the city. But not here.

There has been some discussion about the procedures involved in zoning applications and whether these procedures were followed, but the bottom line is that the good The Pearl Company is doing is readily apparent while the bad they might be doing is not apparent at all.

Development resulting from cultural initiatives such as the James St North Art Crawl gets a lot of press in Hamilton. But running The Pearl Company out of town seems not only to be a bad idea, it seems like a crazy idea. What would be ‘no-brainers’ in other places [e.g. supporting venues like The Pearl Company] are controversial here. Could this be another example of Hamilton shooting itself in the foot? Has Hamilton completed its transition from the ‘Ambitious City’ to one in which no good deed goes unpunished? Many people seem to think so.

Polarization

What newcomers to Hamilton quickly learn is that how they view the city may be diametrically opposed to how many long term residents view the city. We see the same place but may come away with sharply differing conclusions. This disparity of perspective is typical of polarized social, economic and political environments, which I suppose is what we have here in Hamilton. In some respects it is like a northern industrial version of the Deep South. Some benefit from the status quo while others do not.

The epicentre of polarized viewpoints is in the Lower Town of Hamilton and most particularly in its East End near King and Steven — exactly where The Pearl Company bravely set up shop. This is Hamilton’s Downtown Eastside. Poor people tend to live in this part of town, rich people elsewhere, and never the twain shall meet.

Micro-managing investment

You would think that a poverty-stricken city like Hamilton would try to encourage as much private investment as possible in this age of declining public coffers. Yet, City Hall appears to chase away people with real money to invest – with a stick. This city is not always open for business.

City Hall in its planning policies seems to have a preference about where private money ought to be spent. It has a desire to funnel investment into officially-sanctioned areas such as James St North, Locke and Ottawa Streets. These are attractive areas, with great potential to be sure, but what about the rest of the city? Neighbourhoods such as Landsdale are ignored and marginalized even though physically and architecturally there is not much difference between it and its more fashionable cousins.

Surely the city should focus on the fact that money is being invested rather than on where it is being invested. Trying to micro-manage private investment decisions through the planning and building departments seems absurd.

The power structures of some cities work against artists while some work against business people. In Hamilton they manage to work against both these camps. Those on both the left and the right wings of the political spectrum can experience the neglect of City Hall!

Marginalization of neighbourhoods

Hamilton, partly due to its archaic planning and zoning systems, intentionally concentrates poverty in areas such as Landsdale. Despite this concentration of poverty one can easily see the attraction of opening an arts and performance space in the middle of it. This is what normally happens in cities lucky enough to have entrepreneurs like the Pearl Company’s owners: investment takes place in distressed neighbourhoods since costs there are low. Fighting City Hall year on end obviously adds to investors’ costs.

In the US, neighbourhood marginalization and red-lining often has a racial component. But not so much in Hamilton — ethnic minorities can be found in most parts of the city. Here, marginalization is more poverty and environmentally based, with poor people coming in all colours.

Another important factor in the marginalization of neighbourhoods is environmental degradation. As in many cities, especially those with heavy industry, the East End is poorer than the west due to prevailing winds and the particulates they carry. Anything near or downwind of a steel plant is bound to suffer some marginalization. But this does not explain The Pearl Company’s case since areas further east of it that are much closer to the belching furnaces (e.g. Ottawa St) are on the upswing.

Architectural resources

One of Hamilton’s greatest resources is the huge number of old brick warehouse buildings that dot Lower Town and elsewhere. The Pearl Company is an excellent example of adaptive reuse for this type of building. It is surprising how few of these industrial buildings are converted into productive uses as you might see in larger centres. This huge resource exists here but is not being exploited. Indeed, City Hall appears to actively discourage its exploitation. This is puzzling.

Conclusion

There is a battle of ideas going on here but it’s difficult to sort out exactly what kind of ideas are in play. The politics are certainly parochial, the processes of neighbourhood marginalization are severe and the planning policies appear to be self-defeating. However, I can’t quite understand this situation.

What The Pearl Company episode does suggest is that private investment in unfashionable areas of Hamilton is extremely risky even though some of these areas appear to be full of economic potential.

This can’t be good.

Dogs on Roof, Hamilton, ON

This is one of my favourite photos of Hamilton. I forget exactly where it was taken but I believe it was near Wentworth and Burlington Streets. It was taken on 19 July 2008.

It shows two dogs who are getting some fresh air and exercise on the roof of a front porch to a modest town-house, in a poor neighbourhood of Hamilton.

They apparently got onto the roof through a small sliding window directly above the porch roof.

This photo raises some interesting questions:

Did the dogs go out the window on their own or were they encouraged to so by someone?

One possible scenario: the dogs were sent out there because they needed ‘to get out’ and the window was the most convenient exit. Is this what happened?

Are the dogs in any danger of falling?

Do the dogs enjoy being on the roof?

Do the dogs urinate and defecate on the roof?

What do the dogs think of someone taking their picture?

Is having dogs on the roof a common occurrence or did I just happen by the only time it occurred?

Are there people in the room behind and what are they doing?

Is this a display of some kind of civic or personal dysfunction or is there something else going on?

Ben and Liam grooving before their Holiday Concert

Two events over the holidays had significant positive effects on our twin boys. One was a holiday concert performance in which the boys played in the beginner violin section. The other was an impromptu violin recital the boys gave to our extended family on Christmas Eve.

Liam and Ben during their mini-recital on Christmas Eve

Both events were great successes and earned them an enormous number of brownie points–especially with my mother-in-law. The boys could appreciate their new, slightly-elevated status after these performances and liked what they saw. Since then, it has become much easier to get them to practice violin.

They both started beginner violin in the Fall when they joined the admirable West Hamilton Strings programme. This is a mass experiment in teaching hundreds of ordinary school kids in the public school system to play stringed instruments. Hats off to their talented and committed teacher Jennifer Spleit.

With these music lessons they had no idea what they had agreed to do before it too late. They didn’t know that the turnstiles into violin lessons work only in one direction (for the first year at least). Their situation reminded me of ads for the Roach Motel: ‘Kids can check in, but they can’t check out!’

The first few orchestra practices were absolute misery for all concerned. Their revulsion at the demands of violin was total. Their conception that this little wooden instrument would take years and years of dedicated practice before they could begin to master it was completely lacking. For them, it was all too absurd to even consider.

They used the most forceful language to express their displeasure, including:

‘We signed up for violin only because we thought it would please you and we thought you would get mad if we didn’t.’

‘We hate the violin, we hate practising it, and there is no way we will ever do this again unless you force us to.’

Fortunately, now the situation is much easier to take. I have managed to retire the usual suspects–those authoritarian reasons that parents trot out when they want to get their kids to do something their kids see no reason to do whatsoever, including:

‘We paid the money for these lessons and we don’t have money to waste on lessons you don’t attend.’

‘Once you make a commitment for something like music lessons, you have to at least complete the first year or else we may not sign you up for anything ever again.’

‘We really don’t like quitters around here.’

Or, their favourite–the full-frontal Drill Sergeant

‘You will practice your violin and you will do it NOW!’

This authoritarian approach works remarkably poorly with our boys. Being twins growing up in a permissive family, they often gang up on their parents and freely express their derision of our parental authority. They are completely willing to live in a world where adult demands are a hazy concept that really need not concern them:

‘We don’t need you because we have each other!’

We frequently attempt to shift the balance of power over in our direction but this can be painfully ineffectual when done in the typical control-and-command manner.

The most effective approach is to plant the virus in their heads that their interests actually coincide with their parents’ interests. This type of magical thinking goes something like this:

‘If you practice the violin then everyone wins!’ [which in the great scheme of things is actually true]

‘How many kids can read music at your age? You guys are so lucky!’

‘I heard some violins at a concert last night and I was amazed how well the musicians played! You guys would have really enjoyed it.’

You really can’t force a child to have a genuine interest in a musical instrument. You have to lead them to that goal indirectly.

In the long run you have to think up reasons why they might like to pursue this activity on their own volition. For example: because it is fun; because you can perform to admiring crowds; because it sounds really cool to hear dozen of other kids play violin at the same time; because some really cool people play violin [e.g. Ashley MacIsaac, Stephane Grappelli, and Itzhak Perlman]; because the violin is the sweetest-sounding little instrument in the world and it’s been around relatively unchanged for hundred of years.

Now, especially after their performance successes, it is mostly smooth sailing for all of us. The boys practice right after school without complaint. There are no more metaphysical discussions about the legitimacy of authority in parent-child relationships, or the meaning of discipline in a decentralized, post-modern world. Leading graduate seminars with ten year olds is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Now it is more about playing notes with the correct pitch, playing the score as it’s written, and trying to create the sweetest tone with the bow.

Charles and Camilla at Dundurn Castle, Hamilton

Hamilton proved not to be a hotbed of republican sentiment last week on November 9, 2009 when Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales and his wife Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, visited Dundurn Castle.

Dundurn Castle (completed 1835) was built as the stately home of Sir Allan MacNab, an influential and wealthy settler of Hamilton who just so happens to be the great-great-great grandfather of Camilla. Dundurn Castle is now a well-loved civic museum in west Hamilton. It is one of the most attractive 19th century buildings in Canada and as a museum gives an excellent idea of the upstairs-downstairs life in an early Canadian estate.

Dundurn Castle is located a few blocks from where I live, which made it for me the most convenient royal visit ever. I simply had to stroll over to its grounds and wait for the royal excitement to build. And build it did. Hamiltonians, as it turned out, were very excited to see Charles and Camilla.

We don’t get many royal visits here in Hamilton so we didn’t know quite what to expect. Would we be dazzled by the celebrity status of the visiting royals [yes!], would the royals make us feel unworthy and unloved and treat us like residents of a simple steel town [no!], would we tire of the artificiality of an heir to a foreign crown visiting a former colony [not at all!]. We lapped it all up. There was nary a voice of dissent; no discouraging words were heard. Overall, it appeared to be a very successful visit.

I think the fact that Dundurn Castle has a direct family connection to Camilla had a positive effect on the mood of the visit. I think it would be impossible to predict this result prior to their visit. Through skill, some shared history and good luck, Charles and Camilla struck gold this time. They encountered something for which all royals must occasionally yearn: an adoring crowd of loyal subjects.

I am by no means a monarchist but I must confess I too enjoyed the royal visit. I enjoyed the fact that it brought publicity and recognition to the charms of Dundurn Castle and Hamilton. Charles and Camilla appeared to be a stable middle-aged couple who are happy in their own skin. They are not glamour-pusses in the manner of Diana but they appeared to be quite skilled at small-talk with the locals, of asking pertinent questions and of understanding to perfection their mind-numbingly ceremonial role.

In anticipation of the royal visit to Canada there were several newspaper articles detailing how Canadians were quite apathetic about the monarchy, didn’t think much of Charles, or had no idea that Canada was configured as a constitutional monarchy. But based on my experience during the royal visit, I don’t think Charles should worry about his family’s future prospects in Canada. Canadians are clearly in no hurry to get rid of their monarchy. There is a greater chance that Canada will vote to become a Vegan Republic or a Bolshevik Protectorate than that it will cease to be a parliamentary democracy with a British monarch as Head of State. The concept of the ‘Crown’ is deeply embedded in the Canadian system of government and psyche; it would be hard to imagine Canada without it, regardless of what its citizens might think about any one particular heir or monarch.

The whole concept of a ‘constitutional monarchy’ seems to be a little counter-intuitive. You would think that monarchies would tend to be deeply conservative places, but there are so many exceptions to this rule (e.g. the Scandinavian countries, the Netherlands, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, etc.) that it doesn’t appear to hold water. Republics are not necessarily more progressive and can sometimes veer in odd directions, as our neighbour to the south demonstrates. There is some evidence that Canada’s position as a stable, sometimes progressive democracy is not only in spite of its monarchist history but also because of it. Or maybe this is just the Kool-Aid talking.

Prince Charles meeting the crowd at Dundurn Castle

Charles is the scion of a wealthy, multi-national corporation who has spent most of his life waiting to become a king. It appears though that he spends his money in interesting ways. In architectural circles he is notorious for his interventionist and anti-modernist stance, but overall as an heir apparent, he seems harmless enough–perhaps even progressive in some ways. He is a patron of many causes, some of which could directly benefit Canada, such as heritage architecture, urban sustainability, environmentalism, support for disadvantaged youth, organic farming and alternative medicine. Interestingly, the current Conservative government in Ottawa has absolutely no interest in such causes. Clearly, their brand of conservatism is quite different from Charles’s.

Elmo and the Pirate Pickle

This year for Hallowe’en Ben decided to be a Pirate Pickle, while Liam dressed as the Sesame Street character Elmo.

Ben may have been inspired from the VeggieTales series, or he may have come up with the idea all by himself.

By dressing as Elmo, Liam was motivated by a desire to ‘leave childhood behind.’ We remain unclear how dressing up as Elmo will further this goal. Liam apparently doesn’t even like the Elmo character. We suspect he is working at an ironic level that is beyond our adult understanding.

The Pirate Pickle had been sprayed with an eco-friendly spray paint applied to bubble-wrap. This paint continues to flake off as we speak, while the Elmo costume was cleverly recycled from a cat costume. To maintain the Pickle’s bright green sheen (so it lasts until tomorrow) we may have to re-coat the pickle with eco-unfriendly paint, such as car enamel.

After much late-night handiwork by their mother Cornelia, Ben and Liam showed these costumes to their public this morning at school. When dropping off the boys at school it quickly became apparent that a Pirate Pickle held much more resonance with its Grade Four audience than did Elmo (which was discreetly stored in a plastic bag). Ben was like a rock star the instant he stepped out of the car [we chose to drive them to school because of the difficulties in transporting an over-sized Pirate Pickle by foot]. Ben hoisted his Pirate Pickle costume on a stick, like a medieval Crusader entering the gates of Jerusalem (which may be an appropriate simile given the Christian message behind the VeggieTales franchise).