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There is a reason why people wax poetically about the good old days.

Times truly were simpler. People put out their trash without fear of having too many bags, went through airport security without having to take off their shoes and pour out their drinks, and went to the beach with a reasonable expectation that it would be staffed by lifeguards not tied to their deck chairs in red tape.

It's government that finds a way of complicating things, and that was no less true in 2003 when after years of steadily supplying lifeguards at Long Lake Beach, the government made them extinct, with the city and the GNWT both blaming each other for the cataclysm. First it was a lack of qualified lifeguards, next it was the territorial government's "liability."

Yellowknifer warned them someone, probably a child, would drown while they threw up roadblocks and dithered. Last year, the inevitable did happen even though there had been plenty of warnings and tragedies averted leading up to the drowning of seven-year-old Lodune Shelley, including a near drowning the year before.

Ten months after Shelley's death, a report written by the Lifesaving Society of Alberta/NWT has been released by the Department of Industry, Tourism and Investment that finally addresses the one service residents have been demanding all along - lifeguards at Long Lake.

Lifeguards are indeed on the radar - for a price, financially and practically. What cost the city and GNWT $21,000 to staff lifeguards at Long Lake in 2002, now costs $444,354 to have full-time lifeguards at Long Lake and in Hay River. Perhaps the lack of lifeguards in Hay River is an issue but it didn't appear to be one at the time of Shelley's drowning. That's one complication.

In addition to the enormous increase in cost - no issue, swears parks minister David Ramsay - is the report's warning that attendance at a fully lifeguarded beach will have to be limited. That's another complication.

This is all reminiscent of the saga that followed the call for 9-1-1 emergency phone service after a snowmobiler was seriously injured on Prosperous Lake but no one knew who to call for help. Study after study was written, hundreds of thousands of dollars spent, and yet 14 years later the only 9-1-1 service Yellowknifers ever received was the imaginary one billed on Bell customer cellphones.

The shear exhaustiveness of the options the lifeguard report details, the lack of advertising for suitable contractors, the carefully inserted "if it will make the beach safer" qualifier added to Ramsay's stated commitment to bring some form of supervision back to Long Lake, makes one wonder just how committed the government really is in doing so.

Time will tell but the track record to date is less than inspiring.

I had the privilege of reading two articles earlier this month -- one by Michelle Stirling-Anosh, who is fearless against critical reprisals from the bleatings of misinformed public opinion -- which led me to a mind-numbing report from the United Kingdom entitled, Climate Control: Brainwashing in Schools.

It's mandatory reading for any educator who catches a referred episode of the Nature of Things and, along with learning how to be a wild elephant, becomes an in-class purveyor of global warming propaganda after sealing a letter of apology to their great-grandchildren for all the environmental damage their generation has wrought.

The report was so damning it prompted U.K. Education Secretary Michael Gove to publicly remind educators who preach an eco-agenda that they are breaking the law.

This is the same Gove who is under fire from U.K. educators for his support of corporate-backed free schools, many of which provide top-tier education for children of low-income families (We can't have that now, can we?).

The big business connection -- plus the fact some of the free schools, like any other system, don't do as good a job as others -- leaves the secretary open to claims of kneeling to corporate greed.

It's a familiar tactic of those who support the man-made global-warming theory.

They rabidly condemn any study that does not support their beliefs and receives corporate dollars, but keep their own cone of silence firmly in place when it comes to where a great deal of the funding for science-for-sale originates from.

The Global Warming Policy Foundation report finds environmentalism has permeated curricula in an astonishing variety of subjects.

I have the highest respect for many of our teachers here in the Kivalliq, and others across Nunavut who were once in our region.

Yet, in conversations with a number of them, I must admit to feeling worried about the message they may be passing onto students concerning climate change.

My worry stems from the fact that, like many environmentalists, they adamantly state man-made global warming is real.

Yet, I hear little of substance to support the claim, other than mentions of that inconvenient, self-promoting documentary that was all the rage so many years ago.

They tell me of scientists warning of global warming to the United Nations, then profess support of a trendy means of alternate energy such as the wind.

However, as Stirling-Anosh and many others have pointed out, wind energy is backed by gas plants to offset wind variability and can be up to nine times the cost of conventional power.

And they're silent when it comes to the collateral damage the clean power of the wind can be responsible for.

When you pull back the curtain to see the wizardry of wind power, you see mining to uncover turbine magnets.

If global warming is to be discussed in classrooms, then for every reference to David Suzuki, there has to be one to Brian Fagan.

Every video clip of falling ice has to come with statistics showing no global increase in the trend of violent or extreme weather.

Instead of using fear to polarize young minds, both sides must be presented in a fair and balanced manner.

After all, knowledge is power of a different sort.

Carbon monoxide is a threat that most people don't think about until it's too late. It kills silently and quickly and, unless the proper safety precautions are taken, with no warning.

The death of a Hay River couple at a cabin last October highlights the risk and the potential for more deaths in the territory.

Country living is commonplace in the NWT. Cabins dot the landscape as either privately-built homes or rental and short-stay accommodations. An example is the Mountain Aven Campground where Brenda Laviolette-Rapp and Robert Bradley died after succumbing to fumes from a propane lamp while they slept. According to the NWT's fire marshal it is common for cabins not to have carbon monoxide detectors and there is no territorial law requiring their installation.

Cathy Menard, the NWT's chief coroner, says carbon monoxide deaths in the NWT are rare. Before the couple died in Hay River no similar deaths had been reported in at least the past two years. However, one death is enough to raise the alarm and the evidence overwhelmingly supports the danger and potential for more tragedies if people are not vigilant.

The solutions are simple, as outlined by the fire marshal. Every home or cabin should be equipped with a carbon monoxide detector, especially those using gas or wood-burning appliances. Even off-the-grid properties can easily be equipped with the inexpensive devices.

They can easily be the difference between life and death.

Some Canadian provinces, such as Ontario, have made it law for homes to be equipped with carbon monoxide detectors. Although that idea has merit in the NWT concerning residential homes and businesses, it would be virtually unenforceable in the back country. With that in mind, it is in people's best interest to understand the dangers and protect themselves. Install detectors, ensure appliances are working properly and understand how they work. At the Mountain Aven Campground, the propane lamps that contributed to the deaths were in fact working correctly but, unbeknownst to users, when operating at low levels they emitted a lethal level of propane.

The territorial government should also help with education. Outlining resources for inspecting appliances that could pose a risk, how to safety-proof homes, how to recognize early signs of carbon monoxide poisoning and the various agencies and authorities that can assist people.

There is no fault in the deaths of Bradley and Laviolette-Rapp. What happened was a tragic accident. Their loss should not be in vain but serve as a warning to others.

Last week's announcement that two major airlines with a long history of serving the North are holding serious discussions about merging into one company means interesting times are ahead for the aviation industry in Nunavut.

Since Air Canada discontinued its scheduled service from Iqaluit to points south in 2011, Canadian North and First Air have been the dominant players in the market for long-haul passenger service from Nunavut's capital.

Although it will likely take more than one year for the companies to iron out a commercial agreement and receive approval from the competition bureau and federal regulators, it seems likely that the merger will become reality.

One aspect observers are considering is the issue of ownership. The Inuvialuit Development Corporation closed a deal earlier this month to take full control of NorTerra, which owns Canadian North, by purchasing 50 per cent of the assets from Nunasi Corp., a wholly Inuit-owned company. Some applauded the move, thinking Nunasi will be better off without a stake in NorTerra, while others are concerned that the Inuit of Nunavut are no longer involved with a major airline because First Air is owned by the Inuit of northern Quebec through Makivik Corporation.

To its credit, Canadian North is continuing to offer passenger fare discounts to Inuit beneficiaries from both the Eastern Arctic and Western Arctic. But what will happen in the future?

It is expensive to operate an airline in the North because of the vast distances, the climate and the higher cost to operate in comparison to the rest of Canada. A merger makes sense for the companies because it has the potential to eliminate duplication of service, personnel and equipment.

But there is bound to be a ripple effect of the merger. Specifics are difficult to predict because the structure of the merged company is still in the process of being developed.

Two things should be of concern to consumers - what will happen with fares for passengers and cargo, and will the level of service to Nunavut communities change? What will happen if the company created by the merger has a monopoly in parts of the regional market and a complete monopoly in the national market?

Aviation services are essential to the communities in Nunavut for passenger movement and the delivery of goods, including groceries. There may be an opportunity for regional carriers to become more dominant in the marketplace. Considering that construction of a new airport in Iqaluit is on the horizon, perhaps another major airline such as WestJet or Air Canada will begin offering flights out of the territory. The merger - if it goes ahead - will also create a hole in the market that might attract competition.

Those orchestrating the merger have much to consider. Hopefully they don't lose sight of the needs of the consumer while trying to create the potential for profitability.

Former NWT premier Stephen Kakfwi has added his voice to the thousands of aboriginal people who have been speaking up about their childhood experiences, or their parent's experiences, in government and church-run residential schools.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission - mandated with documenting the 130-year residential school legacy in Canada - wrapped up their public-hearing phase with its seventh and final national hearing in Edmonton last month. The commission now has until June 2015 to complete its report.

After the final hearing, former premier Stephen Kakfwi spoke closer to home about the reconciliation process - in Dettah at a teachers' professional development session, where teachers were learning about the impact of the past on their own students.

Having the former premier come forward with his own residential school experiences is a valuable measure of the depth and breadth of the damage done by residential schools. Kakfwi kept silent for years, saying nothing much had happened, while writing and music served as personal outlets for the pain.

Although Kakfwi said he was elated as he witnessed the conclusion of the hearings, he noted that he could not help but see the closing of this dark chapter in Canadian

history as just another step on the long road to healing.

The hearings began in Winnipeg in 2010 and spanned the nation. The commissioners visited about 300 communities and collected more than 6,000 statements.

The stories shared at the many events confirm that the process of rebuilding families and lives is just at the diagnostic stage and much more needs to be done in terms of ongoing and future support for healing programs, counselling services and addiction recovery facilities.

Marie Wilson, Kakfwi's wife and a commission member, noted that nearly 80,000 former residential school students registered for common experience payments, and almost 50 per cent of that number - about 40,000 people - also registered for abuse claims, with a current acceptance rate of about 90 per cent.

However, no one should confuse the lump sum payments as anything more than legal compensation for a wrong done to an individual.

Now the focus must remain on the whole aboriginal population, the families. The damage was done over generations - real reparation and healing will take equal time. With the right support, this may be possible.

Through exaggerated facial expressions and zealous body movements, against painted backdrops and tunes-a-plenty, Xanadu sparkled on stage at the Northern Arts and Cultural Centre last week.

Most impressively, though, was that in front of the audience were 30 young students whose acting, singing and dancing skills soared above what one may assume a less experienced age-group could produce. Anybody seeking a quality production would have left the theatre smiling and satisfied.

Aside from Landon Peters' - director of the Sir John Franklin School drama department's musical - feat of directing the students so well they inspired laughter and cheers from the audience throughout the entire production, his efforts are creating something of unknown proportion within the community.

Often the richness of a place lies as much in its culture as it does its people, and cultivating such talent from a young age brings a magical air to the community that can't be removed, nor created overnight.

These young singing-and-dancing talents of the stage are already contributing to the artistic affluence of Yellowknife, and will go on to be the acting adults of future productions both here and beyond.

Well-produced, energetic theatre that fill the seats of the NACC night-after-night, year-after-year, deserves much celebration and is not something that should ever be taken for granted.

May we all be so lucky as to reach Xanadu, as depicted in the play - an ideal but achievable state-of-being roughly translated as, "to love another person and create art."

One thing all Deh Cho residents get accustomed to is distances.

No matter which community in the region you live in, it is almost always a very long way to get to where you want to go. The need to travel for potentially hours, even if it's just to the nearest neighboring community to buy groceries, is one reason the state of the highways in the Deh Cho is such a topic of interest and concern.

Drive to visit any Deh Cho community and once people realize you are in from out of town, one of the first questions you'll get is "how were the roads?" Smooth roads can mean the difference between an expedient, stress-free trip and lengthy delays if you have to drive slowly to avoid washboard, potholes or soft spots or, worse yet, end up off the road.

Most Deh Cho residents have at least one story related to bad road conditions and what happened as a result. Every one hopes for good road conditions when they head out.

But what those conditions look like might not be the same for everyone. Chipseal is often held up as the holy grail for the highways in the Deh Cho.

People imagine chipseal stretching as far as the eye can see, smooth, flat and a dream to drive on. Just think of the trips then. The distances wouldn't get any smaller, but traveling them would be faster and easier.

No more giant dust clouds in the summer that hide oncoming vehicles, no more chipped windshields every time a transport truck passes. Wouldn't it be lovely?

Of course those dreams aren't always tempered by reality. Who wants ruin the ideal by thinking of the chipseal near the junction of Highways 1 and 3 that has been breaking apart almost since it was laid. And potholes, those can get pretty deep in chipseal.

For some, ideal highways in the Deh Cho are ones that are well maintained even if they are gravel. As long as the surface and its under structure are kept in good repair, gravel highways can get people where they need to go with few problems. In perfect conditions it can feel almost as smooth as chipseal.

Yes, gradually getting all the Deh Cho highways chipsealed is something most residents want to see. In the meantime, perhaps instead of an extra 20 km of chipseal here or there, residents should be pressing the Department of Transportation to have equally good highway conditions between all communities.

No highway should be allowed to lapse so that a few more kilometres of chipseal can be added elsewhere.

When it comes to the demolition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie School, people know a controversy when they see one.

Following last week's story on the school, several people sent some sharply-worded e-mails that were forwarded to the Inuvik Drum by travel agent Zora Zubko.

Although clearly appreciating the school's historical association with the residential school era, these people, including Zubko, have good memories of the school.

It's not possible to repeat the e-mails in their entirety, but a few snippets are revealing.

"It was not just a school," one reader wrote. "The town's social life revolved around that building in the early days – Halloween parties, talent shows, concerts, plays and sports competitions that we all attended. It breaks my heart to see that building being torn down – it was the centre of the community I grew up in."

"All of our hearts go out to those who suffered in any way, but we can never forget the many people that made, and continue to make, Inuvik their home," writes another.

And yet another reader writes, "I am sure all of us have our own stories about how this school was our 'centre of our universe' when we were little.

"I am sorry for what happened to those who came from out of town. But we went home every night and looked forward to the next day of school. All of our little lives were changed for the better with education, sports and friendships. I think that our positive story is being lost or shaded by the bad stories."

That's a sampling of the comments, some of which were considerably less polite. While the opinion they express is valid, and they have every right to express them, it is important to show respect for the differing opinions others might hold, particularly on this part of history.

Some people have good memories of SAMS, and that's fine. Others do not, and that is also valid. It's all part of the overall perspective. SAMS has meant many things to many people. Thankfully, there is a large segment of the population who fondly recall their time spent in the hallways and classrooms.

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