Take the Fall

 

It’s pumpkin spice and everything nice. My favourite time of year is the fall. This weekend is especially precious, being Thanksgiving on Monday and me being grateful for nothing. The calendar is clear; I have four whole days to fill with whatever takes my fancy and right now I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than nothing.

Perhaps I sound ungrateful? I’m not. Truly, I’m not. Every day is stuffed with miracles, some too tiny to see and some so blatantly obvious that only a fool could deny them. Granted, the latter seem to appear less frequently, but the little ones, the ones I don’t always see, probably mean the most. They are the ones keeping everything in motion—and after the week I’ve had, I am ever so grateful for the passage of time!

It’s been a busy autumn despite COVID restrictions and working from home. Ter and I both have birthdays in the fall, and last week was particularly busy with appointments. I had some dental work done (more than expected, actually), Ter and I both had chiropractic treatments, and she did chauffeuring duty for a friend who had tests at the hospital on two separate days. And it’s only Friday!

So you see why a weekend of nothing is something for which to be grateful.

I could run my usual list: Ter, of course. My siblings and co-workers, my friends, my job in a pandemic where lots of folks lost theirs, my health (which is pretty good despite the daily bones), living in Canada rather than a few miles south of Canada. I’m even grateful for the petty bickering of politicians during our provincial election in contrast to the catastrophic numbskullery of the American presidential race. I dislike using a negative to promote the positive, but really? Compared to what the US populace is enduring, our troubles are puny indeed.

Yep, the fall is my favourite. We’ve had a good run of sun and high temperatures through the latter half of September into October, but now I’m ready for the rain. I want my hour back from April so it’s a bit lighter in the morning and the candles are lit earlier in the evening. I want fuzzy socks and big mugs of tea, fat winter novels and holidays specials on TV. The house smells of apples and cinnamon and, this Sunday, of stuffing!!

Spring is pretty, summer is lovely, winter is sleepy, but of the four seasons?

I’ll take the fall.

Blue for Who?

 

Poor grammar in the title, I know, but bigger than that, there’s been poor language around our house of late. This past week saw our TV flipping between two channels: CBC (Hockey Night in Canada) and CNN (the Democratic National Convention). Granted, the poorest language occurred during HNIC as the Flyers tangled with the Canadiens and ultimately—by the skin of their collective teeth, by the way—won the first round. Round Two, against the hated New York Islanders, starts on Monday. This is where “poor language” will morph into full on “swears”, as Cardigan reproachfully puts it, and you just know he’s aiming the frown at me. The only time Ter uses poor language is when the goalie deserts his post in favour of playing the puck. She’s a Flyer fan by association anyway; her true heart lies in the west, with either Edmonton or Vancouver, and while she didn’t watch the Canucks’ first round, she’s happy that they’ve made it to the second. Against the defending champions, no less.

Meanwhile, over on CNN, the DNC provided an interesting diversion from hockey. I actually preferred the virtual format to the “live” conventions of yore; sure, it was a little odd seeing candidates and their advocates speaking to empty rooms but, for me, the speeches packed more punch without the distraction of a cheering, applauding, stomping, sycophantic crowd. (Let’s face it; no one at these things has come to be convinced. They’re already diehard supporters.) The Republicans get their airtime next week ... and I can’t imagine how on earth they will find enough to convince anyone in eight hours that the present incumbent deserves another term at the White House. In toe-curling fairness, they should be given equal time despite the fear of how high my BP may climb as a result. Coupled with the playoffs, the reading may spike halfway to Mars. I’m an avid orange supporter in one arena, but definitely not in the other.

Ter declared the other day that she’s keeping the blue polish on her toenails until November. With my head stuck in the bubble, I immediately commended her loyalty. “Good for you! Hoping the Canucks will go the distance, eh?”

“No,” she replied, “I’m hoping the Democrats get in!”

Priorities.

Duty Calls

People love to complain about things, but in a democracy the responsibility for change sits squarely on our shoulders. You may not get the candidate you vote for, but the act of voting itself is a show of respect for those who fought (and died) to ensure you have a say at all. On this Remembrance Day weekend, it’s more important than ever to honour their sacrifice at every opportunity.

BC is currently conducting a mail-in referendum on electoral reform. We have been given a chance to change a system that many of us have griped about for-seeming-ever. I won’t try to describe the options here because the details are irrelevant for anyone outside of BC, and anyone inside BC has until November 30 to mail your ballot to Elections BC—only you’d better mail it in well before the 30^th because postal service is hiccupping on Canada Post’s rotating strike. And it’s important that your ballot is counted. This is what democracy is all about, Charlie Brown.

There’s been a buzz about something in the wind for the past few weeks, but not much in the media besides advertisements for and against electoral reform, neither of which did much to unravel the mystery of the alternatives to the system we have now.

The system that’s literally been in place for centuries. The system that, with some alteration, is why Hillary Clinton won the popular vote in the States, but lost the presidential election. That’s why I’ve paid attention to this referendum. I don’t want something similar to happen here.

I know, I know. It’s confusing. I dislike recommendations to visit anyone’s website for more information because I don’t spend a lot of time on the Internet. Government websites aren’t always easy to navigate, and the 1-800 toll free phone number generally advises me that “our call volume has exceeded our capacity, so please try again later.” Information can been spotty and not very well explained. In truth, I was so befuddled by the options to “first past the post” that I almost declined to vote at all. Then I thought, No, I have to vote; it’s a privilege and my responsibility, but figured I’d stay with the status quo. But then I realized I’m unhappy with the status quo, and maybe I should consider the options—or at least watch the news blurb wherein the options were, as it turned out, sorta kinda outlined and didn’t impress me into changing my mind.

Ter and I watched the televised debate between the Premier and the Leader of the Opposition a couple of days ago. That was where the three alternatives being offered were explained in a way that chimed. It helped me make up my mind not only to vote at all, but to think about the choices and consciously decide which one aligns with my sense of how government should look.

It didn’t take that long. Sure, it took some effort because I had to use my brain, but when I gave myself five minutes to focus, some things became clear. Better yet, when I finally opened the referendum package that came in the mail, I understood what I was reading. I almost messed up the ballot, but I caught myself and got it safely in the mail this afternoon. “Look at us,” I said to Ter, “participating in the democratic process!” Considering that women weren’t allowed to vote a hundred years ago, it’s more precious to me than ever.

Truly, BC reader, you didn’t have to have watched the debate to comprehend the write up in the package you received; just give yourself five minutes to focus. Think about whether or not you’re okay with where we’re at. If you are, say so. If you’re not, do the work, then make it count.

From now on, complaining is not an option.

Stand Up and Be Counted

Tuesday is election day in BC. I hear on the grapevine that May 30 will see Nova Scotians headed to the polls, as well. Democracy is alive and well from coast to coast.

Or is it?

I’ve consistently voted Orange in provincial elections, mostly because they supposedly support working people and social programs. I won’t say I’ll never vote Red because, who knows, one day a miracle might happen and they’ll start caring about constituents over capitalism. And voting Green seemed futile to my jaundiced eye. Too young, too new, too untried. Too naive. Better to stick with the old guard and be assured of ... what? The same old song and dance, that’s what.

There was a time (wasn’t there?) when politics was about people, not power. Nowadays, the big guns seem more concerned with slagging each other than explaining to me how they intend on making my life better. The money spent on attack ads is sickening. Pointing fingers and proclaiming “Red’s not working for you” while neglecting to say how Orange will has me seriously considering where to cast my ballot.

The Orange candidate in my riding is a seasoned pro. She’s been around forever, and was even the leader of the party for a while, until some internal stupidity had them punting her in favour of blanc mange in a suit. I like her. I believe in her willingness to work for the folks in her riding ... but she’s old guard. They’re all old guard, and the future belongs to the young ’uns.

But how can the young ’uns get anywhere if they have no experience? I’m going Green this year, not just because they talk about serving the public instead of their own interests (I can hear the cynics now – “Ru, you starry-eyed dolt, they’ll say anything for a chance to serve their own interests!”), but because they are young and idealistic, and they need to get some experience before their party can pose a real threat to Punch and Judy.

Green has no chance of winning this election. None. Zero, zip, zilch. I know that. I hope, however, to help create an imbalance that results in a minority government for whichever of the usual suspects does win. I also hope to give the next generation some work experience before their party gains enough support to form a government because, eventually, I think they will.

Is there such a thing as a wasted vote? There is. A wasted vote is a vote not cast at all. It’s also a vote against democracy. Freedom may be our birthright, but too many in the world have been robbed of that right by those who seek to rule over them. Voting has become a privilege, hard won on the backs and by the blood of those who’ve gone before us, and opting out is more than copping out. It’s disrespectful both to them, and to the people elsewhere in the world who have no say in who governs them. Sure, your candidate may lose, but your voice will still be heard. And if he/she loses, you can complain with impunity. If he/she wins, not so much—but one might argue that you asked for it. At least you’ll have a say in the outcome.

Vote. Please. Vote to keep (insert colour) out. Vote to get (insert colour) in. Don’t like either of them? Vote for the independent candidate and tip the balance in favour of the opposition. Vote for the future. Vote for the generation who must solve the problems we’ve created for them.

Most importantly, once more with feeling, vote because you can.

Still unconvinced? Then let me introduce to you the President of the United States ...

Orange is the New Black

In no way, shape or form do I support, condone or agree with the outcome of the US election. I haven’t felt that sick in front of the TV since I watched the Twin Towers collapse on 9/11. I am a democratic socialist who supported Bernie Sanders, so I admit to harbouring reservations about Hillary in office, but still—the lesser of two evils, right?

Moot point, Ru. Despite the effect this singular decision will have on the entire planet, only a select number among the global population had a say in making it. The American people have spoken. The rest of us (and those who voted for the unsuccessful candidates) will have to live with it.

Ironically, they wanted change in 2008, and they got it. Maybe it wasn’t what they’d envisioned, or there was too much of it with too little time to adjust (humans are not as progressive as we think), or maybe those descendants of the original settlers are freaked out by their former majority becoming the new minority—whatever the case, the end result of yesterday’s vote is necessary.

You can only duct-tape a leaky system for so long before it blows completely, and I suspect a Democratic win last night would have been just another Band-Aid on the bleed. Well, we called down the thunder, so get ready for the BOOM!

I say “we” because it’s been my experience that humans, much as we whine about wanting change, really prefer things to stay the same. Institutional failure may be partly responsible for the orange outcome of this ground-rattling election, but the devolution of society has as great a part to play in the demise of what came before it.

True change is often painful. Disasters, whether natural or man-made, always precede a rebuild of some sort; we only choose to improve our toys. Improving conditions for the poor, for refugees and immigrants, for the working class, even for the earth itself, isn’t usually in anyone’s self-interest until it becomes imperative. No one who voted for Obama’s successor was voting for the good of others. They were voting for themselves … and that’s pretty well what they got. Those who voted for the other candidates (remote as the independents’ chances were, they still deserve to be recognized) were likely more community-minded and globally aware, but were shown to be in the minority.

America is broken. Of course it can be fixed. It can rise from the ashes and emerge stronger, better, and braver than it was yesterday. Did they pick the guy to get it to that place? Hell, no! Healing a wound never begins on the top. It begins deep down, close to the bone; that’s where the rebuild begins. Recovery is up to the people. It’s up to families and neighbours and co-workers and community leaders to make a difference at the local level. They will have to get each other through the next few years. They can do it; they just have to be willing to do the work themselves rather than relying on the tangerine head to do it for them.

I am sympathetic, truly. I appreciate the fear and desperation of the folks who voted as I would have voted; alas for them, the democratic process must be respected even when you don’t get who you want.

As for the crashing of Canada’s immigration website when the numbers started firming up, I guess socialism is looking pretty good to some of our neighbours now, eh?

I wish them well. I believe they can do better. I hope the people will join and become a stronger nation by working together, by showing kindness and compassion to themselves and each other. The human spirit, when focused and tuned in, is fiercely inspiring. We are capable of great and wondrous things.

With love and hope,

Don’t Look Back

Last week, I watched Bill Maher and his four guests—two Democrats and two Republicans—argue back and forth about their upcoming election and what’s wrong with both candidates. The US is in a sticky pickle because, as I see it, the voting public is caught between a Trump and a hard place. When faced with two evils, folks generally choose the lesser one ... but in this race, how can you tell which is which?

No matter. I’m Canadian. My problem comes after the US election, when everyone else in the world has to deal with the outcome of their decision.

It was interesting, however, to hear people on both sides trying to outshout each other about “taking America back”, “getting America back”, and “reclaiming America”. One of them referred to regaining the country originally intended by the founding fathers.

Are you kidding me??? The country was founded over two hundred years ago, by privileged white European males who drew up a Constitution that would serve their interests and no one else’s. Think about it. When the country was formed, the only Africans in America were slaves, women were chattel, and the native Americans had been driven off their land by the guests they had welcomed but who refused to leave. The paperwork wasn’t written for anyone within those three groups. The right to bear arms meant that colonists on the frontier could defend themselves instead of waiting for the cavalry to ride over the hill. And they were pretty much defending themselves from the indigenous residents, so I’m of two minds on the fairness of the policy in the first place.

If I have learned anything in the past couple of years, it’s that nothing is ever going to be the same again. You cannot get back to the way it was because the way it is has changed so radically that previous rules can no longer apply. Society can’t rely on a document that was written in the dark ages because that document was written for the dark ages. Respect its purpose, sure, but then improve upon it, for crying out sideways!

We are not here to stay the same. We are not here to live in the past. We are here to move forward, to embrace each other and create something better than what we had yesterday (and I don’t mean building a better iPhone). Cleaving to an outdated document is not the way to fix today’s problems. One might even suggest that cleaving to that document is what created today’s problems. The world in 2016 is not remotely similar to the world in 1776 or whenever. Can we please leave that old world behind and work with each other to make something wondrous of the one we have?

Because it is wondrous. People are amazingly diverse, but our diversity is not what makes us magnificent. Our shared divinity is what make us magical. We are each capable of love, of compassion, of respect and gratitude and kindness. Our culture does not make us any of those things. Neither does our history. We should be using those things as starting points from which to grow and change ... but even as I write this, I realize that I might be missing my own point.

We are spiritual beings having a human experience. We are born divine. Many of us lose sight of it along the way. If time truly is cyclical and we are moving in circles, then perhaps we do want to go back to somewhere in the past. Let’s go further back than two measly centuries. Let’s go back to where we truly started, when we were born pure and untainted, radiant with love and no conditions, when we knew in our souls that all we needed to make a success of this life was to exercise our divinity and treat each other ...

... with love.

Head Hunting

There may be a worse place to live than America under Donald Trump. When I heard that extremist goons in Bangladesh had taken the heads—literally—of a few “secular bloggers”, I stepped back to evaluate just how dangerous my world could become if this stuff gets out of hand.

I mean, any more out of hand.

Truth be told, I could probably lose my head in some countries just for being a woman with an opinion. Make no mistake, gentlemen—all women have opinions. Just because those opinions are not expressed does not mean they’re the same as yours or that they don’t exist. My good fortune (so far) is to live in a country where my opinion is worth exactly what I’m paid for expressing it. If someone is threatened by what I think, they might want to ask themselves why.

Of course it means something to me. It’s my opinion, after all. If you happen to share it, great. If you don’t, great. You’re entitled. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. I guess the scary part is when enough of a shared opinion becomes an action or a movement. When fear of someone else’s opinion becomes the driving force behind a governing body—be it in politics, religion or big business— freedom of expression is the first thing to go.

And here I am, an opinionated woman with a secular blog.

Well, I’m in it now, so my hesitation to “like” a particular F***book page has been rendered duly redundant. Let’s hear it for “Republican Jesus”, a satirical site that is taken too seriously by some but not by me; it’s one of those pages where the first post gets a smile, the third gets a giggle and the sixth earns a full-on LOL. I don’t check in every day—I truly do suck at social media; how does anyone else keep up and still have a life?—but when I do, I’m guaranteed a laugh at the expense of the GOP. US politics have degenerated into something truly frightening, a satire of its former self and, I suspect, the furthest thing from what the Founding Fathers intended when they drafted the Constitution. On the other hand, it’s democracy in action, a concept that people have died and continue dying to defend. And whether, in the end, it’s Madam President or Trump the Chump in the White House, the expectation for the office will be impossible. People don’t want to solve their own problems. They want the government to solve their problems, and while I agree that everyone should be educated and earn a living wage, I disagree that it’s government’s job to resolve social issues by law. Rules can be put in place, but rules are only management tactics meant to staunch the bleeding. You can’t legislate tolerance or compassion or forgiveness or respect. Those things begin with the individual, at a grassroots level in schools and neighbourhoods and communities. Those in power are accountable for spinning the propaganda that serves their own ends; however, are we not accountable for choosing what we believe and how we behave?

I know, easy for me to say in my cushy First World environment where freedom of speech meets women’s (sort of) equality. As stated above, it’s only my opinion. If someone wants my head for it, oh well.

I just hope they take it on the first swing.

Justin Time

You had to see that title coming, didn’t you?

60 Minutes did a piece on our hottie Prime Minster, coinciding with his visit to the US this week. It’s been twenty years since a Canadian PM has been invited to a state dinner at the White House, and to be honest, it’s really too bad that Barack Obama is on his way out as President, because I believe that he and Justin would have been a force for good on the world stage. I can’t predict how it will go with Hillary—and gods forbid we end up with Prez Trump in the role of obnoxious next door neighbour.

Anyway, the 60 Minutes piece gave a little insight to confirm my gut feeling about our nation’s leader. He’s young, he’s green, and he’s connected to what’s important in life. How the combination will serve him in the ugly world of global politics remains to be seen, but I was deeply impressed with everything he said.

I especially liked his refusal to buy into the fear and paranoia the journalist tried to spark with questions about crossing borders and welcoming thousands of Middle Eastern refugees into the country. Rather than suspect wolves among the sheep, he replied that respect, trust and kindness are the greater means of achieving the peace we all allegedly crave. Raising walls and locking our doors will only breed more dissention. But best of all was his reply when she asked about his boxing hobby.

“Boxing,” he said, “is not about how hard you can hit your opponent. It’s about how many hits you can take and keep going.”

Now that someone has explained it to me, it makes a little more sense. It’s also a statement about his outlook on life. How cool is this guy?

Whether or not a genuinely good person can succeed as a world leader, I’m still unsure. Doubt makes me nervous that he’ll be taken out if he starts to exert too much positive influence, but I also believe in the philosophical fact that a single positive thought can neutralize a hundred negative ones; and if this is so, then this sincere and compassionate young man is in a position to restore Canada’s reputation as a progressive and proactive nation.

We’re good people. We deserve to have a good man representing us to the rest of the world. I’m hardly a proud sponsor of politicians in general, but I truly do believe we picked a winner last October.

Suffragette City

January 28 was the centennial anniversary of women winning the right to vote. It was also the thirtieth anniversary of the Challenger explosion—an event I remember because it happened during my lifetime. I’ve always had the right to vote; the fight for it happened long before I was born … yet not so long ago. One hundred years isn’t that many in the big picture.

Women’s issues continue to be issues, however. With the US presidential election looming, the argument for/against is once again in contention for candidate support on either side.

A female president would be pretty cool. I admire Hillary Clinton. She’s made her way in a man’s world, and she’d probably be a good president, though I think her focus might be more on foreign policy given her portfolio as Secretary of State during the Obama administration. Looking good to the rest of the world while your home is in a shambles seems to occupy most political leaders’ minds, male or female. Besides, I’ve watched enough women in power to know that many of them don’t care about their struggling sisters, and if they do stand up on the issues, they’re not taken seriously by their male counterparts.

Maybe a woman isn’t the best advocate for pay equity, health care and education. Maybe it should be a man who sees those points for what they really are: issues that affect not just women, but everyone on the planet.

If I was entitled to vote in the US election (thankfully, I’m not), I’d vote for Vermont governor Bernie Sanders (D). I’ve heard him speak on a few occasions, and he’s a guy who gets it. He speaks eloquently and passionately about the problems close to home, those issues almost universally dismissed as “women’s issues”: child poverty, poor education, inaccessible health care and, from there, planned parenthood. He recognizes that these resolving these issues is important to the nation as a whole. They are not unique to women. They are society’s issues, but if we insist on labelling everything, perhaps they should be termed “children’s issues” because—let’s face it—the future lies with the little ones.

Just a thought.

Trudeau 2.0

Canada's "Boy Toy" PM

“He’s not your father’s Trudeau,” said Peter Mansbridge on election night.

I paid little to no attention to politics in Trudeau the Elder’s heyday, so I can’t say whether the country was ruined or not when Pierre was in power. I didn’t even see the reputed charisma he allegedly had, and which Justin (his eldest son) has in spades.

Prone as I am to picking my fantasy hockey team on looks, however, I do recognize that picking my politicians demands a tad more serious criteria. Despite the sense that election day snuck up on me, I was aware enough to appreciate how the campaign was handled by the candidates. Justin Trudeau’s strategy was similar to that of Barack Obama’s in 2008: upbeat, positive, and non-combative. I will always follow the optimist who speaks of hope and empowerment rather than fanning fear through ignorance.

I have voted for the Liberals in past Federal elections (never ever in provincial), but this time the candidate dropped out so I had to reconsider my options. I thought I’d go one way until I was actually looking at the ballot. My eye scanned the list in search of the name I wanted, but got stuck at the halfway mark and in the end, I chose that candidate.

Canada will always be run by the Liberals or the Conservatives. The NDP’s disappointment at losing half the seats won in the last election strikes me as willful naivete. Surely they realize that the seats won in 2011 were those that would have gone to the Liberals had the Liberals not self-destructed prior to the campaign. All that happened this time round was the restoration of Liberal support to a resurrected party under the next generation.

Duh.

Perhaps not so strangely, many folks I know said afterward that they did something similar to me—while voting NDP in their ridings, all are pleased enough with the Liberal win. The big numbers tensed a few jaws, but hey, minority or majority, let’s see what the pup can do. My older sister nailed it when she told me of her confidence in Justin representing us on the world stage. Canada lost so much ground under Stephen Harper. Now is our chance to regain our reputation as a nation of good neighbours who care more about the environment and each other than we do about preserving the wealth of industrial magnates worldwide.

Speaking of which … my one regret is that our shiny new PM will not get a chance to work with the current US President. Together, they might have been magic.