To borrow a term from the lexicon of a bumptious bureaucrat, I am a stakeholder. I am a stakeholder in all sorts of things. For example, I am always referred to as a stakeholder whenever the health care people ask for my opinion about anything (which they never take). I am also a stakeholder in the salutations of other boards and governmental bodies that send me questionnaires. They think the term makes me feel so important that I won't notice them sneaking around to produce even more authoritarian nonsense.
I am, by my own decision, a true stakeholder in only one constituency - The Sapient Society of Grumpy Old Men. When I think about the origin of the word stakeholder my imagination produces a dark and ghastly scene in which I hold a pointed wooden stake that my masked assistant is pounding through the heart of a man in an expensive business suit. When we are sure the creature is dead for a final time, we stuff him back in his coffin which is lined with a mouldering regulations and bylaws. The scene conjured up in my mind is satisfying but completely unrealistic. Nobody can rid us of bumptious bureaucrats so easily. They multiply like rabbits.
Also multiplying like rabbits are the techno-nuts who are engaged in spinning the crazy carousel of electronic communications gear. My wife and I own a venerable cellphone that has only one function - to talk to and to hear other people. We think of it as emergency equipment. When there are no emergencies, it isn't used. The bewildering array of smart phones, lap tops and tablet means nothing to me. I would prefer to see the electro-nuts and other creative people produce things of real value.
Grumpy old men would weep tears of gratitude if they could purchase inconspicuous silent alarms to warn them of an unzipped fly. Another good product would be a solar-powered, laser-guided toenail trimmer. It would also be a comfort to have automatic nose wipers. These could be controlled by something like the rain sensors in automobile windshields. A similar apparatus would be helpful in an old gentleman's drawers. I also like the idea of square peas, because the round ones roll off my plate and my wife makes me pick every one of them up. Could there not also be an old gentlemen's only video game in which cyber tomatoes could be hurled at so-called performers on TV? Something like this would help to ameliorate aggressive urges.
Why can't we have an exclusive old-man-only lottery with a lifetime appointment to the Senate as the top prize?
Why can't there be bigger pensions?
It would take only a small portion of Canadian creativity to make life sweet for every member of the Sapient Society of Grumpy Old Men. Any government that encouraged this effort could advertise itself as a government with a big, kind heart. Everybody would believe the advertising and the governing party would win in the next election.
