Hamilton Spectator

Let's hope any pursuit of justice takes the highest road possible.

The booby prize given by the U.K.-based Plain English Campaign for funniest remark last year by a public figure goes to U.S Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld.

Christmas doesn't ask, Who is Jesus? It asks, Who are we?

In the Middle East there s as big a debate over the media as there is here. Some back Al-Jazeera and some CNN. And some read independent papers.

Call me a dreamer, but ever wonder how things would look if John F. Kennedy was involved in today's so-called war of civilizations?

Liberal democracies almost never fight each other. They'd rather have the good things.

Iraq. Can it be saved? Six months after its liberation, Iraqis are still short on power, electrical and otherwise. The Yanks are still being greeted with grenades as much as with flowers and hugs. And how did those weapons of mass destruction disappear?

This country is one of contrasts. Red-dirt roads cross lush- green landscapes. People familiar with war smile easily and greet you genuinely. Beauty meets ugliness, plenty meets want, and life meets death here. Uganda may be, as Winston Churchill said, the Pearl of Africa. But, if so, it's a tarnished jewel.

Today, Jean and I, with our bright-eyed bambino, Elizabeth, are on a jet plane flying back to Yemen. Our condo in Ancaster is again a speck that has disappeared over the horizon.

You don't need to be a flaming, bleeding-heart liberal or a limp- wristed lefty to see that it's a man's world when it comes to some basic privileges in life.

(The Hamilton Spectator - Friday, June 20, 2003) Nobody knew. Prior to the birth of our first child, two weeks ago today at St. Joseph’s Hospital here in Hamilton, Jean and I kept her name, Elizabeth top-secret from absolutely everyone. “It’s from the Bible and it’s not Dorcas,” is all I would reveal, before adding, “If and when we have a boy, we have a biblical name for him too. And it’s not Nimrod.” So imagine the confirmation we felt when, prior to our return to Canada for the delivery, some western friends in Yemen said good-bye to us by reading the biblical story of Elizabeth.

Dr. David Livingstone, celebrated explorer and missionary to Africa, was once asked by a group back in England, "Have you found a good road to where you are? We want to send others to join you." "If you have men who will come only if they know there is a good road, I don't want them," he replied. "I want men who will come even if there is no road at all."

Sunday is Mother's Day, and I'm reminded that I've never held my mother, looked into her eyes and told her that I love her. I've never offered a soft kiss on her cheek. I've never even given my mother flowers. My mom died before I got the chance.

Telling Lies in Iraq is my choice for the name of the flick we can only hope will be made about former Iraqi minister of misinformation Mohammed Saeed Sahaf. If it's anything like a satirical Web site on this new cult figure, a site that once had an incredible 4,000 hits per minute, this movie will be stunning.

Jean and I are packing to return to Hamilton to deliver our first child. And at the top of my to-do-in-Hamilton list, besides "get diapers for the bambino," is watch a big, fat movie. There's a single theatre here in Sana'a, a town of one million, but considering it's infested with rats or something similarly revolting, I've avoided it.