Who is the judge on bonuses? Who decides who is worthy of a surprise gift and who is not?

All people work, and one person has to evaluate whether their work is worthy of praise and encouragement. Who is that person who ultimately chooses? Is it the supervisor? And what if he does not have a great personal connection to the one deemed not to receive a bonus?

Does that mean that the non-recipient did not do a good job? And does this unfortunate non-recipient watch while the others, deemed to be worthy, receive their gift? Or is it kept hush-hush?

Now, I don’t know, but it just doesn’t sit well with me. Here I am, visualizing the scene at the office: several people smiling and others just walking around  wondering why some are gleeful that day. They, oblivious, are just thinking about Christmas dinner with their kids, grateful for the job, not knowing that there is some big hypocrisy circulating.

“Hey, how much did you get?” whispers one to another. “I don’t know. I got nothing yet,” he responds and stares at the glowing face in front of him.But the gut-wrenching pain, the one of rejection, festers long after the Christmas vacation is over. And productivity is decreased, and that person (the one not on the bonus list) keeps longing for another job where he is appreciated, not humiliated by exclusion.

I, myself, prefer to pay in advance. Performance always follows because you have essentially told your employee or contract worker that you believe in them, that they are worthy, that you value them. This causes them to want to please you, to go above and beyond the job, to make it happen for you. And suddenly, you find your business blooming.

Why? Because of a measly bonus to all. The way I see it, it’s about perception. Perhaps what is a good job for one is not a good job for others. Your supervisor might have preferences or “favourites.” It does not mean it is right. It is a hard call. But I would tell my supervisor, “Divide it equally. Make them happy. Give before you receive.”

I don’t know...maybe I’m a socialist, maybe I’m a Christian, maybe I’m just human.

When my cousin and I were small, we spent hours arguing with our Sunday school teacher. She kept insisting men were stronger than women, and for the life of Irene and myself, we could just not accept this. On principle alone. Though we knew what she meant, she did not phrase it to our liking, so we fought tooth and nail. “No, men are not stronger than women. Women can do...” And so it went. We made sure to articulate, at every provocation, all the ways that women were the stronger sex.

We were 16, and it was to be our last year in Sunday school. We exasperated the poor woman, and to this day, I do not know where she found the patience to tolerate us, to not send us to hell.

As life should have it, years later I was in her position. I became the teacher. Whom would I call upon to do selected tasks? Hmm...choices to make. Would I call the male or female students to carry the heavy viewing equipment, boxes of books and the like? I, not surprisingly at all by that point, picked the males—to the dismay of the girls in the class. I found myself explaining, “See, girls, women are smart, kind, have strong minds, BUT, male muscles are bigger. That is why I ask them to carry the heavier stuff. C’est la vie, just accept it,” I said till they knew it by rote.

That day, I carried the end of year load by myself, with every ounce of Sunday school strength I had preserved. Selective muscle and my brain willed the body that day, over and over. There was no time to remember limitations.

The idea of a green association has been growing for over 25 years. With many exhibitions and demonstrations under his belt, Pierre Veronneau’s climax will be realized next summer at the Green Festival 2009 where one will encounter entertainment, humour and day-to-day inspiration from ordinary people. Margaret Mead once said, and Veronneau quotes, “Never underestimate the power of a small group of people to change things.” Historically, he says, it’s the only way that change has been effected. As vice president of the Quebec Association to Stop Atmospheric Pollution, Veronneau’s job is to promote awareness, negotiate with politicians, and educate those who want to contribute to a greener world. He loves nature—and wants all creatures to have, for centuries to come, a clean environment in which to live and grow.

Lately, the air compressed car is where Veronneau’s passion rides. Things would be dramatically improved environmentally if cars would only be regularly inspected for toxin emissions. The air compressed car, he feels, is easy enough to market with so many now concerned and wanting to get involved in preserving the environment. The market is there, and ready to bloom. Zen cars, he says, are on the perfect track, and he wishes that other car companies would follow suit.

Participate in a night of green adventure, strewn with celebrities and breathable air. Spend a night at the Green Festival 2009. Though the festival will be held only in French, Verroneau says both French and English speakers are welcome.

There's a tunnel near my house which  leads to the other side of the highway, which leads straight to the lake, which leads straight to my son's high school. Given that he rides his bike to school every day now, this tunnel has proven extremely useful.

The other day, he asked me to ride our bikes together to the library. This meant that I would have to go into the tunnel myself. Being that I'm not fond of enclosed spaces, it was with reluctance that I said yes. 

With dress pants, dress jacket (I was too lazy to change), bright white running shoes and a helmet, I got on my bike and rode the three minutes to the tunnel. I got off my bike and started to walk underground  to the exit on the other side. I looked around examining the cameras, wishing there were more.

"They paint it every week," my son said when I commented on the strong smell of fresh paint.

"Why every week?" I asked.

""Because of the graffiti."

Wow. That means that the painters who add the layers of white have a permanent job! They come here on a regular basis knowing that there will be graffiti. What would make the graffiti artists stop? I thought. After all, it didn't look much like art in this case; it looked more like scribbles and an attempt to make a mess. I grant that some graffiti is exquisitely done and shows real talent, but this was not it. It was a mess and made the place look scary. What could make them stop... Not that the permanent job for the city painters wasn't a good thing—regular work is always a good thing—but, well, what a waste of time. Maybe they could be doing other things rather than repainting the same walls every week.

The idea I came up with was the same as years ago when I looked upon huge canvasses being created on the side of buildings which had a large plain side. In fact, many of these buildings looked like an empty canvas wanting to be colored and decorated. Maybe the young people doing the graffiti really only wanted to create art, make things beautiful. Maybe by adding something already beautiful there, they would leave it alone, respect another artist's masterpiece.

I have seen this work time and time again: On the side of pools they sometimes hire an artist to paint a picture, a beautiful grand mural, and more often than not, the graffiti artists leave it alone. They do not come to put their own imprint on it. And when they do, it's very minimal. The grand art overpowers the minimal scribbles.

I truly don't believe that graffiti designers mean to harm. I believe they have an urge to fill open space. They have a desire to add their imprint, their signature, their name— to leave their mark.

Today, with the Internet there are so many opportunities to add our name. I wonder if unwanted graffiti  is still as common as it had been years ago since nowadays there are ways to express ourselves and leave our imprint.

Anyway, I think that the city should find perhaps the graffiti artists, who can easily be identified in all the cameras, and HIRE them to make a mural throughout the tunnel. This would ultimately save the city a lot of money. It would also give them a chance to leave their mark for good, with something they can be proud of—which won't constantly be painted over.