19.4°C Cloudy 
MAKE HOMEPAGE
Everybody who lives in Regina, if not people outside Regina, have all had a good gander at Regina's new logo for impressing folks who are not from Regina. The continuous-loop swirly R, in red and orange and blue, coupled with the slogan “Infinite Horizons” was designed at a cost of $320,000 by an advertising firm from Winnipeg on an 18-month contract.
Given that it was only 13 months ago that Winnipeg's now criminally exonerated ex-football coach dissed Regina as the crotch of Canada, I suppose we ought to be relieved that the firm stuck to typography for logo inspiration. (This was before the worldwide release last week of that in-depth documentary examination of the human crotch produced by the Winnipeg public school system). Putting aside Winnipeg's own civic image problems, which are considerable, and without even mentioning the Roughriders' 2-0 record with a combined score of 84-24 against the Blue Bombers in 2009, not all Regina residents are excited about the swirly R.
I had my own reservations. I knew I had seen the logo before. But when? Where? It came to me the other day. You remember how, as a young boy or girl, you would hold a stick in the flames of a campfire until the end was a glowing ember and then swing it around in the dark for a streaking, swooping light show while your parents screamed to cut it out before you cauterized your little sister's retina? My own favorite gawk was at my initial, an R, in endlessly repeated script. What can I say? I was an outsdoorsy kid, with an ego. At least the glowing R of summertime was aesthetically pleasing, unlike my wintertime mon-ogram, out back of the bushes on the toboggan hill.
All of which is my way of today claiming half the logo cost, $160,000, for copyright permission. I realize this does nothing to assuage the outrage of many city taxpayers, but the money, rest assured, will be returned to the local economy, pleasing Mayor Pat Fiacco. For it was Fiacco himself who, defending the logo, argued that every person who moves to Regina brings $40,000 a year in productivity to the city. “So if we get 10 new people, this pretty much pays for itself over the course of time,” he told reporters.
Scene: A kitchen in North Vancouver, later this afternoon.
“What?! You quit your job?! Just like that? Gary, you worked 15 years for that promotion to regional accounts manager!”
“To heck with it. Pack your bags, Deb, we've moving to Regina!”
“But, but...do you have a job there?”
“Job, schmob. Regina got themselves one of them there swirly Rs.”
“Continuous loop?”
“Damn straight.”
At which point, as Reginans, we need to ask ourselves:
1) Really?, and;
2) Are Deb and Gary in the above example the type of people we want as new neighbours? Only a seven-foot-tall flightless yellow bird or a green shaggy monster could get so hepped up about single letter of the alphabet, and I don't recall either of them making much of a contribution to their local economy. The monster lived in a garbage can.
“New York is Big, but this is Biggar.” “Craik: The Friendliest Town by a Dam Site.” “Nut Mountain: The Mountain is Gone, but the Nuts are Still Here.”
There you go: three right off the top of my head, civic slogans of small towns in Saskatchewan that stick in the memory, and all of which originated years ago, not in focus groups, but more likely in licenced beverage rooms. Whereas I haven't the foggiest clue as to what Toronto, Medicine Hat or Winnipeg is going around calling itself these days. Your guess is as good as mine. For help making your guess, simply link a word from (“Endless” “Untold” “Boundless” “Eternal”) to (“Dreams” “Opportunities” “Potential” “Frontiers”). Chances are you'll be at least in the ballpark, and also halfway to recalling the theme posted in crepe paper wads to the gym wall at your Grade 12 graduation.
Not that I am opposed to rebranding. I am one of those people who fear change, which is good (change is) (not the fear of change) (that's bad). I fear that one day soon I shall not be able to find my Cheezies at the corner store. They'll have been rebranded to a purple container and the sort of name more commonly associated with the drugs advertised on TV for no specified ailment – Cheddarux, or Extataste, or Globocurd (ask your doctor).
