When to bark, and when to bite

I don't have much of a temper. Oh, if I'm upset with you, you'll probably know it in short order, but I can count on one hand the number of times I've barked at someone in public since gaining adulthood.

I remember one such time in Victoria back in 1993. It was dusk, and I had just hopped off the bus from downtown at Memorial Park on Esquimalt Road, and was starting towards Grenville for my short hike home. Trying to avoid the chestnuts and hulls littering the sidewalk, I cut through the park. There were two young teenaged boys skateboarding, doing grinds on the base of the war monument that gives Memorial Park its name.

I'm not one of those guys who hates skaters for being skaters, but I lose patience when they treat private property as though it's theirs to use and abuse as they see fit. And although a war memorial isn't private property, it's not a skate park either. Before I even thought about it, I'd barked "Get your f***ing skateboards off of there. It's a war memorial." For whatever reason, they chose to quickly comply.

War memorials are special places. I was taught to salute them while in uniform, and just because I don't wear one anymore doesn't mean I've lost that respect for the sacrifices our monuments and cenotaphs represent.

So when I first read the story about Canada Day celebrants urinating on the National War Memorial this past year, I was livid. So much so that I didn't write about it, knowing that if I did, I'd later regret having called for a rope and a strong tree branch.

I was right to hold off. The drunken fool who desecrated the prime symbol of Canada's war veterans seems genuinely remorseful. He has, without the compulsion of a legal judgement, donated $200 and 50 hours of his time to the Veteran's Hospital of Montreal.

And so I find myself in agreement with the Ottawa Citizen's editorial board today:

In the manner of finding a silver lining inside every dark cloud, the photo of Mr. Fernandes actually may have served a useful purpose for the country.

The uproar may have reminded ordinary citizens of the great symbolic importance of such monuments, to veterans and to our society. Some may have studied the stories behind the plaques and statues that dot parks across our country. Some may have even done some reading on Canadian military history.

Time to move on from Mr. Fernandes. His punishment is done.

His transgression was a symbolic one, and his reparations have been paid in time, money, public apology and regret. And perhaps, with the publicity this incident garnered, the next time an intoxicated reveller decides to unzip his fly at that site, someone will step up and bark at him "Put that back in your f***ing pants. It's a war memorial."