Life As Performance Art 167

Those who are fortunate enough to occupy the higher echelons of the unconstituted socio-economic hierarchy of the moneyed middle class really have no idea how the rest of us live. Of the sacrifices and trade-offs we must engineer, craft, accept and live with just in order to get by. Such privations as would never be dreamed or imagined by our more privileged brethren. I have mentioned in previous pages here that for some years I quit reading the Globe and Mail, Canada's national newspaper, or rather, a poor Canuck relation to the New York Times. I read it daily for years, from around 1984 until about 2008, or for around twenty-four years. I was a faithful reader, and even though the price was rising incrementally, even on a scandalously low income was I able to go on reading the Globe and Mail, almost every morning buying a copy at the neighbourhood convenience store. It was a culturally and intellectually nourishing exercise, as well as helping me stay well-informed of the events and affairs of the nation and the world, enjoying the insights and observations, and sometimes the opinions and acerbic wit of some of the top journalists and writers, not only in Canada, but the entire English-speaking world. Then, two things happened. The price began to rise dramatically, and the new editor-in-chief was a spoiled rich kid who imprudently declared that the august pages of the Globe and Mail must forever remain the purview of the wealthy and the privileged. Poor people, such as myself, no matter how educated, cultured and well-lettered, needn't apply. I was insulted , of course, as were many other Canadians, and then I decided to save my money for other activities, such as investing in international travel. About three years ago, with a new editor at the helm, I resumed reading the Globe and Mail. It had become hideously expensive, so I just opted to read it on weekends. In the meantime, I had discovered CBC Radio One, which I could listen to for free, and enjoy a quality of journalism and reporting equal in quality and calibre to the Globe and Mail, but much more affordable. Still, reading the Globe and Mail on weekends became kind of a privileged and almost decadent past-time for me, and of course I could feel so cultured and educated and worldly, sweetened all the more knowing that even on my poor income of just slightly above minimum wage that I could also count myself among the ranks of this privileged elite. I even entered an occasional correspondence with the people's editor, a very pleasant and engaging individual. She suggested to me some books that I might want to read, by currently trending international intellectuals. I considered, and decided to wait, and for two simple reasons. For one thing, I already have a home library of some five hundred volumes, half of which are in Spanish (a language in which I am fluent), and I have read but maybe ten percent of my books. The other reason was a little more insidious. If I were to go on reading the Globe and Mail, even just on weekends, then I would have to forego buying books other than second hand because new they were just too expensive. The Globe and Mail has just spiked its price again. I was sticker-shocked two weeks ago when I found myself shelling out six bucks for a newspaper that is not the New York Times. Last weekend I decided to try coping with my Saturday without the Globe and Mail. It was easy, and very enjoyable. I simply did some work on a drawing, read some interesting stuff on the CBC website then had a lovely one hour nap. And I came off six bucks richer. Yesterday, with one of my clients, I was browsing around in the local Chapters-Indigo bookstore. They have there a modest selection of books in Spanish. Among them, are two books by said international intellectual recommended by the Globe and Mail's people's editor, in Spanish translation. These days I prefer reading in Spanish, because it challenges my brain more than my mother English. The price of that book will equal four weekend Globe and Mails, plus maybe a cheap coffee. I can now afford to read this author, and in Spanish translation. For the simple trade-off of giving up the weekend Globe and Mail. Of course, they could always hire me as a columnist, writing about the lives of poor and low income Canadians, but they don't seem at all interested in contracting my services nor in knowing anything at all about how we really live or who we really are. Too bad. I could use the extra income. And this way, I could also resume reading their fabled newspaper.