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Cursing, fighting, screaming, panhandling, urinating and defecating - those are just some of the sights and sounds one can expect while strolling through downtown, summer or winter.

Last week, territorial court deputy judge Michel Bourassa banned a homeless, alcoholic woman from an eight-block stretch of Franklin Avenue after she was convicted for disturbing the peace.

The woman had run into an acquaintance on Yellowknife's main street and asked her for $10. When the acquaintance refused, the woman followed her, cursing and shouting along way. She even followed the person into the A&W and continued her harangue there.

There's no doubt that services for addicts and homeless people in the city are lacking. We no longer have a drop-in centre for psychiatric outpatients, neither is there an addictions treatment centre in the city nor an adequate number of public washrooms for homeless people.

These are all areas of concern the government needs to address to make life better for the city's downtrodden.

However, this city's residents - no matter what walk of life they represent - are obligated to show some respect and behave themselves. Accosting and shouting at passersby is certainly not the way.

Yellowknifer staff have seen it all. Our office is downtown and much of the depravity is on display right outside our windows.

A couple of months ago, a Yellowknifer editor was treated to the sight of a woman crouched in an alcove with her pants around her ankles at Centre Square Mall. She urinated a stream that flowed across the sidewalk and into the gutter.

After she was done, the woman stepped onto the sidewalk, obviously intoxicated, and began shouting at people.

Bourassa worried what sort of impression the woman convicted of disturbing the peace last week would leave on tourists.

Undoubtedly, tourists would be disturbed at the sight but so are residents who live in, work and visit downtown everyday.

Lydia Bardak, a city councillor and co-ordinator of community justice with the John Howard Society, questioned whether it is right to bar people from large areas of the city.

"How does that affect our rights of freedom of mobility in this country?" she asked.

The obvious answer is if you're sober and well-behaved you can go wherever you please.

When they're making changes governments, ranging from municipal to federal, usually try to package their initiatives in a pleasing way, blatantly promoting the benefits, in order ease the shock of the change. The territorial government has completely missed this boat with their board mergers.

On Oct. 23, Minister Michael Miltenberger announced all public boards in the territory related to housing, education and health will be merged into six regional boards by 2011. A seventh board will also be formed to oversee the new regional boards.

Upon announcing this plan, Miltenberger and the rest of the government should have been prepared to answer the basic questions that everyone was bound to have. Some of the main queries include precisely which boards will be melded and how the new regional boards will function.

Even before the announcement was made all the boards that will be included in the mergers should have been contacted, if not for their opinions, at least so they'd be informed of the basic outline of the plan.

Over a month has passed since the initial announcement and almost everyone, except perhaps Miltenberger himself, is still in the dark about how the merged board will function.

When contacted by the Deh Cho Drum for the story in this week's paper, the heads of many education, housing and health organizations in the Deh Cho stated they haven't been told the details of the plan. The Fort Simpson Housing Authority and the Fort Providence Housing Association haven't even been told officially if their boards will be included in the merger.

If the heads of these organizations don't know about basic details it means the general public have even less information about what the merger will mean for the housing, education and health services they receive.

It doesn't, however, take a speech from an official government representative for residents to realize the community representation they had on the boards will likely decrease. A community that had a representative on the Dehcho Divisional Education Council and another on the Dehcho Health and Social Services Authority cannot hope to have as much say in a larger, merged board that has to deal with three separate departments.

There might be benefits as well as detractions to the government's plan to merge the boards. Right now, however, the lack of concrete answers is allowing people to imagine the worst and they will go on imagining until April when the finer details of the plan are expected to be released.

The board mergers might be a good idea on the part of the territorial government, but the lack of visible planning will make it a difficult initiative to sell both in the Deh Cho and across the territory.

Just when you think you know someone, they go and change.

For years now, I've seen our youth in a dim light, marred by alcoholism and drug abuse among other serious social issues.

Been there, done that, would be a fair overview of my life experiences when it comes to the party scene.

But there comes a time in everyone's life when they look into the reflecting pool and change the way they think and act.

There are young people in our community who have seen themselves and what they are doing with their lives.

Now we have groups of kids who are willing to change their lifestyles and spread the word.

For too long, the people of this community have been enabling binge drinking and substance abuse.

Generations of families pack themselves into bars and drink themselves stupid.

Before our community even had a name, people were gathering to get drunk.

A lot of our kids are admitting they drink and they're ready to start doing it in a responsible fashion.

Sure it's still illegal, but those young people are showing more sense than a lot of adults in the same situation.

It's no secret that our teens are drinking. The inexplicable part is why they're being more responsible than their parents.

They're just kids being kids. It's the adults with excuses that we need to cull.

It's easy for a student to rationalize getting drunk with friends when their parents are always out having a few.

"Oh, well at least I didn't get as wasted as that guy. Man, he was blacked out," is a quote heard too often the morning after a party.

After meeting with a couple of members of the youth alliance, it was clear they're ready for a change.

Students at Samuel Hearne were asked to identify the biggest issues facing them today.

The top three issues brought forward were alcohol abuse, drug abuse and bullying.

The first thing I was told during the interview is that it's common knowledge that young people drink, but too many are taking it too far.

They need to be taught responsibility and moderation.

Every time I spout off about alcohol and the grip it has on us, I'm obliged to bring up moderation.

Too many people have died or gotten hurt because of foolish decisions and extreme drinking.

I spent years waking up after a party, regretting it. It took the help of my loved ones for me to realize nobody was having a good time.

We need to set a good example.

There is nothing wrong with having a beer or going out to the bar and listening to some live music.

But drinking to the point of physical or mental illness is stupid.

You start offending your friends and losing grip on reality.

Inuvik can seem like an endless drinking party, and it is for a lot of people I know. We need to put the shot glasses away.

Maybe then, once the drunken haze has lifted, youth and adults will realize the best times of our lives don't come from alcohol.

It was with more than a little interest I followed the recent debate in Iqaluit on the need for an animal protection act in Nunavut.

I spoke about it with some people in Rankin Inlet and they were unanimous in their contention that Nunavut is still not ready for such a move.

While they respected the efforts of those trying to make such an act a reality, they said too many Nunavummiut still view dogs as simple animals, not loved family pets.

The discussion took me back about five years.

I was still a have-boots-will-travel editor in those days, and spent a lot of time walking around with my camera bag slung firmly over my shoulder (not as mundane as it sounds in 70-kilometre winds).

That year filled with me anger and pity concerning a certain dog in Rankin.

Now, understand, I am a dog person and, other than my time in the military, there has always been one in my life since childhood.

I became aware of the dog during my treks around the community in those days.

The poor animal was always tied on about three feet of rope, and was forced to eat and sleep in its own urine and feces.

Because it barely had room to turn around, let alone walk or run, its hind quarters barely functioned.

During the coldest times of the year, it had a very hard time even standing up.

Knowing dogs, through no fault of their own, can get cross existing like that, I approached it the first few times with extreme caution.

I spoke softly to it and made my mannerisms as non-threatening as possible.

For the first 10 times, or so, I tossed the Beggin' Strip (bacon flavoured dog treat) a bit away from the poor dog so it wouldn't have to take it directly from my hand.

I cannot imagine any living creature getting more enjoyment out of something than what that dog derived from those treats.

I got in the habit of carrying a sandwich bag with a few of the treats inside my parka or jacket pocket so I'd always have one when my travels took me near the dog.

Eventually, it grew to trust me and would gently take the treat from my hand.

The image that haunts me is from a particularly cold winter day when the dog saw me coming down the road.

It struggled to its feet to meet me and, as I revealed the treat, managed to wag its tail in appreciation, although I could see even that simple act was causing it discomfort.

Then, for the first time since our ritual began, it feebly licked my hand a few times before taking the treat and settling down, best it could, to enjoy its one simple pleasure in life.

Shortly thereafter, the dog was gone and I still regret never having known its name.

I still catch myself glancing toward the tiny area that was my friend's entire world every time I drive past.

I never asked anyone who kept that dog, because I didn't trust myself to remain civil if I ever ran into them while out and about.

When I did query a hamlet official about the situation, the response was nothing could be done because there was no animal protection or similar act in Nunavut.

Simple animals that don't deserve protection? I had a good friend once who would beg to differ.