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Bob Ramsay

Born in Edmonton. Educated at Princeton and Harvard. Speechwriter. Book editor. Copywriter. Communications strategist. Presentation trainer. Marathoner. Explorer of the world's distant places. Travel writer. Op-ed page writer. Fund-raiser. Board member. Speaker series host. Arts addict. And of course, relentless enthusiast.

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO WHOM?

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Since maps aren’t reality, but merely imitate reality, they are prone to all the slings and arrows of human error, ambition, greed and folly.

Recently, Donald Trump not only posted a map that showed the U.S. flag covering large parts of Canada, Greenland and Mexico, he renamed Lake Ontario “Lake America.” Apple was the first to tug its forelock, saying “only Americans” would see Lake America; all others would see Lake Ontario.

You can call this craven, bullying and even unhinged. I prefer to call it “high school.” But the real Pinocchio Award for map-making goes to Gerardus Mercator (1512-1594), the Flemish cosmographer and cartographer who created the world map in 1569 based on a new projection that made it more useful to sailors. But any three-dimensional object portrayed in two dimensions is bound to contain some biases and distortions. For example, Mercator’s exaggerates the size of countries near the poles and downplays those near the equator.

Read on…

THE WORLD ACCORDING TO WHOM? Read More »

A STREETCAR NAMED EXPIRE.

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Last week at Bloor and Bay I saw a bedraggled man pick himself up off the sidewalk and nonchalantly jab a needle into his toes. I had to assume this was because the veins in his arms were so shot up that they didn’t work any more.

The sheer normalcy of this reminded me that Toronto is now a world-class city in something our child-like view of ourselves has a hard-time computing. All summer, I saw men sleeping across three seats in a subway car and women with everything they own in two plastic bags. They’re not only in the ravine behind the tennis club, and on the sidewalk outside Tim Hortons, their needles change hands as unselfconsciously as a Presto tap.

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A STREETCAR NAMED EXPIRE. Read More »

WHERE WERE YOU…?

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On November 22, 1963, when JFK was shot? (Me: at prep school in Port Hope. A student ran into the dining hall yelling: “Kennedy was shot! Kennedy was shot!” We thought it was a fellow student named “Kennedy”)…

On July 2, 1969, when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon? (Me: In Edmonton in a friend’s basement rumpus room.)

On October 16, 1970, when Pierre Trudeau invoked the War Measures Act saying “just watch me” during the FLQ Crisis? (Me: at university in the States, where it wasn’t so momentous.)

Read on…

WHERE WERE YOU…? Read More »

WTF.

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Last month I met a friend for a drink at the Writers Room atop the Park Hyatt.

It was 4 o’clock, early for a drink, and the bar was empty except for my friend who was sitting inside at a table. Beyond her and outside was the open-air rooftop terrace. It was a gorgeous day so I said: “Why don’t we sit outside?” She paused, and said a bit awkwardly, “No, let’s not.”

She then explained that when she came in five minutes earlier she had the same idea, until the maitre’d told her that sitting outside comes with a $50-per-person “commitment.” Or rather, a minimum spend of $50 each. In other words, our drink would cost us $100. Plus tax and tip, so $125. And I only drink Diet Coke.

That seemed a lot.

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WTF. Read More »

ONE SMALL THING

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A year and a half ago, when the full horror of Donald Trump’s dismantling of America was just a White House work order, the prospect of Canadians not visiting the United States wasn’t even a question. Not go to New York for the weekend? Not spend a week hiking the Appalachian Trail? It never entered our minds that we wouldn’t go to America as an act of political protest.

Indeed, not only is the U.S./Canada border the “longest undefended border in the world,” in America’s entire 250 year history Canadians have never had a reason not to set foot in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Except in 1814 when we burned down The White House. But technically, we weren’t a nation until 1867, so it doesn’t really count.

Then in February of last year, the U.S. imposed tariffs on Canada. Mark Carney urged us to get our “Elbows Up” and lots of Canadians vowed not to travel to the U.S. until Trump changed his mind on tariffs (Trump change his mind? We were Bambis in the forest back then.)

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ONE SMALL THING Read More »

DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS.

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Last week Barry Hertz of the Globe and Mail reported on yet another scandal on Toronto’s waterfront, the continued closure of the Cinesphere at Ontario Place which needs major repairs.

Doug Ford promised to make those repairs by late 2023. But the Ontario Government hasn’t even started, claiming now that the Cinesphere will re-open by 2029. Hertz tells this new drama in the context of the bigger ones surrounding Ontario Place and the Ontario Science Centre.

But there’s another tragedy here, of how successive governments of every political stripe have slowly bled and starved architect Eb Zeidler’s jewel on Toronto’s waterfront ever since Bill Davis walked away in 1985. I know this story well; my brother James Ramsay helped create Ontario Place and would fill me in on its decline and fall for years after he’d left government.

Read on…

DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS. Read More »

…BUT A WHIMPER.

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On January 24, 1961, thirty thousand feet above Goldsboro, North Carolina, a B-52 carrying two 3.8-megaton hydrogen bombs, broke apart in midair.

Both bombs began arming themselves on the way down, exactly as they were built to do if their crew released them on purpose. One landed in a tree. The other buried itself in a tobacco field, having finished six of its seven steps to arm itself. A single low-voltage switch, the kind you’d buy in a hardware store, stood between eastern North Carolina and a blast 250 times the size of Hiroshima. U.S. Defense Secretary Robert McNamara admitted later that the whole thing came down to the failure of two wires to touch.

Then on September 26, 1983, three weeks after the Soviets had shot down Korean Airlines Flight 007, Air Defence Lieutenant-Colonel Stanislav Petrov sat in a bunker south of Moscow watching a screen that told him, with what his system rated “highest confidence,” that American nuclear missiles were inbound.

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…BUT A WHIMPER. Read More »

SOMETIMES YOU’RE JUST WRONG.

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And when you’re wrong with 6,000 people reading why you’re wrong, well, I’m gulping the gulp you gulp when all you can say is: “My arguments may have been wrong, but at least they were well put.”

I was wrong about expanding Billy Bishop Airport and letting jets take off and land there. I said it was a good idea. Lots of readers disagreed. The longer runway would have all kinds of knock-on effects that would change what’s wonderful about the waterfront. One of these readers, the indefatigable and relentless Anne Golden, threatened me with an invitation for coffee, which I attended and was well finger-wagged.

Anne was actually in despair. For her, the prospect of taking on Doug Ford’s government was Everestian. Everybody knows that the dice were loaded. Everybody knows that the fight was fixed. Everybody knows the good guys lost.

Until of course, they won.

Last Friday, after the polls showed Doug Ford sitting in the mid-20s in public opinion brought on by his fumbled effort to buy and sell a private jet, and his fumbled effort to rationalize his government’s efforts in fighting the forest fires raging in the North, Ottawa announced that it would not allow Billy Bishop to be expanded to accommodate jets.

Read on…

SOMETIMES YOU’RE JUST WRONG. Read More »

DOUG FORD’S DEFINING MOMENT.

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The real story about Doug Ford and the northern Ontario wildfires isn’t the loud press conference he’s holding twice a day in Thunder Bay. It’s the 72 hours before anyone thought to bring him a microphone.

Let’s go back a couple of weeks. Namaygoosisagagun (also known as Collins) First Nation Chief Helen Paavola says she called the Ministry of Natural Resources for evacuation help before the fire destroyed her community on Monday, June 13. Nobody came. Whitesand First Nation ended up trying to protect its own infrastructure because, as the Chiefs of Ontario put it, there was “a lack of communication from government officials” about how to even declare a state of emergency. And residents of at least one evacuated community went back in against orders because they didn’t trust the province was committing enough to protect their homes in the first place.

Read on…

DOUG FORD’S DEFINING MOMENT. Read More »

I’M NOT WHO I THOUGHT I WAS.

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Jean and I are huge Stratford fans. Most every summer, we get in the car, head west on the 401 and gorge on Shakespeare for two or three days.

Last week I was on the phone with the nice woman from the Festival, and she happened to say: “I see the last time you came to the Festival was in 2019. Welcome back!”

2019? Seven years ago? No way.

She replied. “Perhaps if you used a different credit card?”

Hmmmm…I haven’t changed my credit card in eons.

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I’M NOT WHO I THOUGHT I WAS. Read More »

A PRECEDENT AS LOVELY AS A TREE.

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This week, the Quebec town of Terrasse-Vaudreuil became the first government in Canada to recognize trees as living things with rights.

It is part of the Universal Declaration of the Rights of Trees, a global movement begun in Paris in 2018 to treat trees like people, with rights including “the right to life, to natural growth, to integrity and to regeneration.”

The town’s gesture of recognition is largely symbolic, but it sets the stage for tests in various courts in Canada around its legal validity. All to say, what used to be thought an absurd proposition by many will soon be treated seriously by the law.

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A PRECEDENT AS LOVELY AS A TREE. Read More »

WHY WE TRAVEL.

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In my earliest memory of traveling, I was 5 and my mom and dad drove us from Edmonton, where we lived, all the way south in our 1956 Chevy station wagon to Calgary. The station wagon’s main job was to deliver flowers for Walter Ramsay Florist, my dad’s flower shop.

Then we drove west to Banff on what’s now the Old Banff Highway. Along the way, we pulled over at an ‘Indian’ souvenir shop. I proudly wore my iconic Davy Crockett ‘coonskin cap’ with leather chaps.

It was thrilling. I’d never seen a mountain before, and the connection between Davy Crockett and the ‘Indians’ and me, between doing a thing and being a thing, turned me into an intrepid lifelong traveller.

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WHY WE TRAVEL. Read More »

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