I don’t know about you, but I was getting sick and tired of reading those long tirades of mine against free trade. I promised myself that I would not write about the subject again. And then came lumber. I offer the following Perspectives Aplenty ’87 in the full knowledge that my resolve is worse than International Trade Minister Pat Carney’s, but hoping that, having gotten this out of my system, I will finally move on to other subjects.
* * *
Clayton Yeutter, coach of the American Eagles, arrived at the stadium early to assure himself that the field was up to his pre-game specifications. To his disgust, he found that it wasn’t, and immediately got his counterpart, Beavers coach Pat Carney, on the phone.
“What’s up, coach?” Carney asked.
“I’ve just come from the playing field,” Yeutter spat, “and what did I find? It’s level!”
Carney was confused. “Isn’t that the way the game is supposed to be played?” she asked.
“You’re joking, right?” Yeutter bit down on his cigar so hard that his teeth started to spark. “Sure, that’s what we told the press. But, according to my playbook, the field must be at a 45 degree angle to the ground. Forty-five degrees at the very least!”
“My position on the field is firm,” Carney stated. After a moment’s thought, however, she added: “Still, I suppose if we change every quarter, there’s no real harm…”
Yeutter started banging his head against a locker. “No,” he flatly insisted, “you’d have to play downfield the whole game. Don’t you understand the way it works?”
“I thought I did,” Carney responded, small.
“Alright,” Yeutter grimly continued, “here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll put a minefield at your 35 yard line if you don’t do something about your lumber subsidies.”
“At the 35 yard line!” Carney angrily protested. “That’s too steep! Your own research showed that we don’t subsidize our lumber exports! We won’t accept the minefield, and that’s my final word on the subject!”
“Say what you like: we’re gonna put it there anyway,” Yeutter pointed out.
Carney considered this for a few seconds. More conciliatory, she suggested: “Why don’t you put the minefield somewhere more reasonable – like the 15 yardline?”
“If we have the plans to it…” Yeutter mused.
“Oh, no!” Carney interrupted. “If there has to be a minefield, we’ll install it ourselves and keep the plans.”
“Hmm…and you’re firm on this?”
“As firm as I’ve been on everything else.”
Yeutter smiled. “Okay,” he said. “But, you gotta remember one thing…”
“What’s that?”
“You asked us to play this game.”
* * *
How do you spell precedent? L-U-M-B-E-R.
Some time in the future, a Canadian Prime Minister might get on the phone with an American President and hesitantly ask, “s…sir…?”
“Yes, boy,” the future President might say, annoyed that he’s being bothered, “What is it? I haven’t got all day to waste with your prattle. I have important things to do.”
“Please, sir. Can we have…some more?”
“More!” the President bellows. “You want more!”
“Please, sir,” the Prime Minister says, holding out studies in both trembling hands. “We only have three major oil producers left, and if we don’t life our voluntary export taxes, they won’t be able to sell their products anywhere. Please, sir, can we sell our products at prices the market sets?”
“I’ll get back to you later,” the President says, and hangs up.
Three months later, the Prime Minister calls back. “Please, sir” he pleads, desperate. “Our textile manufacturers need a break. Can’t you let us lift our voluntary quotas so we can sell more?”
“What do you think I’m running here?” the President asks, “A charity? Until the United States economy gets back on its feet, everybody else in the world will have to stop pulling their own weight. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the Prime Minister responds, adding: “Do you think you can spare a bowl of gruel until payday?”