NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

Neither here nor there -

At first the moose had found the contraption awkward and uncomfortable, but in the last little while had begun to get used to it. It was a nuisance, yes, but no worse than flies in summer, cold in winter, or hunters in the autumn. The moose had to admit that, unlike some of the stunts the government had got up to recently, this one had a chance of working. It was still a bit early to be certain, but it looked like this could solve the most serious problems facing the province today.

It was a complete reversal of what had been, up to now, an established government strategy; bringing forward people with expertise in similar areas to produce an efficient and practical solution. It had been adopted a few years earlier when the need for better Internet service in rural parts of the province became obvious. The premier acted decisively and without delay. He gave a multi-million dollar contract to a former business associate, a well-known expert in things having to do with wires. The premier seemed slightly miffed when some nay-sayers grumbled that wires had indeed been pulled. That the premier, an ex-cable guy himself, had dispensed goodies to his cable buddy, still in the business, awarding him a contract without going to tender. The normally composed and placid premier seemed a trifle peeved as he explained that speed was essential to preserve the competitive edge of the rural Newfoundland and Labrador he so treasures. I believe he said, going forward we will have to go forward, or words to that effect.

The next indication that going to established experts from the private sector to fill cabinet portfolios was now government policy came with the appointment of a new minister of health. He replaced the embattled Ross Wiseman, driven from office amid effusive praise from the premier backed up by cries from the assembled multitudes of "Hey Hardy, where's Laurel?"

Ignore for the moment that some wits refer to the chosen minister, Paul Oram as "the man in the empty suit", the fellow does have experience in the health biz. He owns funeral and retirement homes, which he eventually placed in a blind trust. He is said to have plans to open a pharmacy in grocery business he recently acquired in Glovertown. I don't know if there is any truth to the rumour that he plans to establish a birthing centre to complete his business empire. It is said it will be located on a formerly-inhabited, now-deserted island in Bonavista Bay. The rumour goes that it will be called Oram's Re-Re-Settlement Birthing and Natal Care Centre. If it is true, and I must repeat here that it is, so far, just at the rumour stage, it would place in Mr. Oram's hands, or rather his wife's hands, a chain of health care enterprises stretching from cradle to grave. In business lingo, this is known as vertical integration. In this case, vertical integration of the horizontal.

What could better qualify a person to become Minister of Health?

On reflection, the moose realized the strategy that had placed this contraption on his back represented a complete 180-degree reversal of direction by government. It would now go the other way, combining elements that seemed to be completely different to create a single solution to a number of problems that seemed completely unalike.

Someone in the Confederation Building had spent many sleepless nights dreaming this one up.

It appears that scientific evidence, carefully gleaned from intense study of open line shows, proves the three gravest problems facing this province today are moose/automobile accidents, unregulated signs along roadsides and gravel pit camping. With this indisputable data in hand, the government swung into action.

First it reversed the decision to evict gravel pit campers. Indeed it issued a declaration:

"Recognizing their pioneering contribution to the unique culture of Newfoundland and Labrador, our Government enshrines the absolute right of occupants to remain in these heritage classified and much-loved pits. This right will be grandfathered and, in some cases grandmothered, to pay tribute to the advanced age of the inhabitants of these historically significant sites. Their continued occupation will permit the overall public to visit the sites. We invite tourists from outside our province to tour the information kiosks where interpreters, chosen from among the indigenous gravel-pitters and dressed in traditional gravel pit camping costume will answer questions and explain the displays of artifacts dating from the bygone era of heritage road-building and traditional barbecuing. The gravel pits will be expanded to accommodate the growing number of tourists in recreational vehicles seeking an authentic Newfoundland and Labrador experience."

The government realized given the overwhelming success of the multi-million dollar TV ads that are so remarkably beautiful and effective, they were faced with a pressing need to guide strangers to these heritage gravel pits. At the same time they did not want to be criticized for cluttering the roadsides with new signs, after ordering private businesses to take theirs down.

That's where the moose came in.

The Wildlife section launched a massive campaign. It shot 95 percent of the entire moose population.

With tranquilizer darts.

While the moose slept they were fitted with two pieces of equipment.

One was a GPS controlled electric shock device. Each moose had a section of roadside assigned to it. The GPS defined the length and width of the zone the moose could walk inside without receiving an electric shock. It was typically a few hundred metres long with a width starting from the edge of the road and extending as far into the woods as the alders grew. In a matter of days, each moose would learn the territory and would happily spend the day munching down the alders, thus creating a wide border alongside both sides of the road, a safe zone of visibility for passing motorists. As they travelled from coast to coast, tourists now passed between two continuous ribbons of closely cropped foliage, one each side of the road, filled with moose, exotic specimens of our imported wildlife. Visitors could see hundreds of them without ever risking a collision with one.

The visibility would also allow the tourists a clear view of the second piece of equipment fitted to the moose: sandwich boards. For those who have never seen them, sandwich boards are a pair of signs connected by straps passing over the shoulders of the person wearing them. The rigid, shoulder-width boards extend from chest to knee. In a long-ago era, the sandwich board wearer was paid to walk up and down busy city sidewalks all day long displaying a message front and back, advertising something or other. Fitted to a moose, the sandwich boards hang down either side, connected by straps passing over the animal's back.

A typical government message displayed on either side of our moose grazing at the roadside might read: "SCULPIN GULCH HERITAGE GRAVEL PIT. 15 KILOMETRES. ICE CREAM! CHIPS! BARS! BABY MOOSE PETTING ZOO! LAST PIT BEFORE FERRY."

pickersgill@mac.com