Xmas Xcess

In case you were wondering, the Christmas holiday in Canada is very similar to Christmas in the U.S. Families get together. Some of those who attend also misbehave, thus ensuring story material for myriad future family get-togethers. (Not MY family, of course.) People exchange gifts, often in excess. People eat, ditto. At the end of the day, at least one someone, sometimes more than one, has a meltdown--too many noisy toys, too much candy, too many buns (American: rolls) with butter.

Again, not in MY family, of course. Except for the buns with butter. (Hello, I'm a woman. I have food issues. Also the same on both sides of the border. Get over it.) Which is what I thought of yesterday, in church.

Backing up: The United Church is a low-key kind of church, full of people who try earnestly and imperfectly to do the right thing in the world. Yesterday was a particularly low-key kind of Sunday. Our minister said he'd been thinking of a hard-hitting topic but decided instead to read a story at sermon-time. Fine.

But he also mentioned the hard-hitting topic, which was something along the lines of "What does Santa have that Jesus doesn't?"

So during the sermon, that's what I thought of instead of paying attention to what was actually happening around me. (That trait IS typical of my family, but that's another story.)

Some answers to the question are fairly obvious, not to mention sacreligious and actually not fair to Jesus. But here we go.

Santa's bag is full of toys, not guilt.

Santa's all about the "ho ho ho," while Jesus is about the "no no no!"

Santa's story ends with everybody getting presents; Jesus' story just starts at Christmas and goes on to include betrayal and death, which is hardly mitigated by resurrection and ascension (he's still GONE, after all).

But I was also thinking about the buns and the butter at the same time that I was pondering the Santa vs. Jesus debate. The thing about the buns and butter is that I haven't been eating much bread in the past year or so. It's not on my food plan. Mostly, I don't miss it. Seriously. I feel so much better physically (and wear clothing two sizes smaller, too) that it's totally worth allowing butter to be a special, planned event in my life. Which it was for Christmas. Which is all well and good.

And yet, I sat in church mentally focused on the last four buns and the stick of butter softening in its crystal dish. The food was at home in the kitchen, 20 miles away, but there in the choir loft, I could practically smell those buns, feel the squishy springy yeasty yum between my teeth, taste that salty fatty buttery...butter.

Well, okay, it may not sound as good as it felt yesterday. Still, here's the point: Those buns and the butter were as important to me in that moment as if they were the last buns in the world. As if no baker anywhere (or, say, Safeway) would ever make buns again. As if that one stick were the last butter on earth. As if I would be deprived of food--in fact, deprived of all things good--for the rest of my natural-born days.

None of which is true. There is plenty of food in my world, and I'm aware of and extremely grateful for that fact. My life is fabulous, overall. And yet, my brain includes wiring that fixates on these buns and butter. This part of my brain is not interested in logic; it's a reptile. It's interested in surviving the next famine. It doesn't care that it has never experienced famine in real life. Someone, somewhere in my ancestry must have. My brain stem remembers.

Which brings me back to Christmas. What if the excess of the holidays is part of that same reptilian wiring? What if we need the feeling of excess, of gluttony, of "TOO MUCH!" once a year, at the (literally) darkest time of the year? What if our inner reptile needs the excess to prepare for the future famine?

Especially in a year like this, when our future deprivation feels inevitable and won't be caused by any New Year's resolutions, but because the economic downturn has come in our own front doors.

Overall, I was pretty pleased with that thought. Yippee! Wiring is responsible! Too many toys, too much of a good thing, too many buns 'n' butter--all good!

But then came this thought: So what? So what if excess is inevitable? So what if we're biologically programmed--not just socially and culturally programmed--to over-do the end-of-year celebrations? Even if that's true, we don't get off the hook.

Because we can get around the wiring. We learned how in kindergarten. Civilization is all about learning to share, to protect and help each other, to balance our individual needs with the needs of the community, to postpone gratification in favo(u)r of a long-term goal.

In other words, civilization is the guilt, the "no no no!", the full story of Love (betrayal, sacrifice, death, resurrection, ascension) in all its messy, three-dimensional glory.

A scholar of religion might say that civilization is about Jesus, while the brain stem is about Santa. Or maybe not. Or in more precise language. But something like that.

To recap yesterday's sermon: Excess may be pre-programmed, but we can learn to short-circuit the wiring. Wanting the buns 'n' butter is a different thing from eating them. It is possible to celebrate holidays without credit-card-induced hangovers.

And here's today's status report: the buns are safely eaten by someone else. The butter is back in the fridge, right next to the Nanaimo bars. Oh man, Nanaimo bars are...hey...hmmm.

(Cue Schmaltz) The Best Gift

Last night, my husband said something I've been mulling over since: "If you're a parent, the best gift you can give your child is the gift of your own independence."

He was thinking of adult parents and near-adult children, the ones who are trying to leave the nest but to whom the parents are clinging in the guise of "being supportive."

In fact, we had been talking of my father, whose birthday would have been yesterday and who had given me the gift of his own independence.

At 90, my father was the kind of man that nurses and university administrators referred to as "cute." At 70, he was likely called a "funny little man" or "Mr. Peepers," but I didn't happen to hear it. Years after his classroom days were over, he wore suit jackets and hush puppies. In a group, he'd sit back observing before he shared an observation from left field. He was obsessive, if that is possible, about moderation and routine, and in general he made my recent adult life a lot easier than it could have been. Sure, I worried about him, all alone in that big house, but I knew that it was my choice to do so.

But last night, we weren't thinking only of my father. We talked of other parent/child and peer/peer relationships and the reasons why the clinger holds so tightly to the clingee.

Partly, it's habit: from the moment a child shows interest in standing, parents hover to keep the child from falling. It's a physical reaction that becomes a powerful metaphor. But there's something else at work.

It's fear, of course. While the clinger might be saying aloud, "I'm keeping you from failing," she actually means, "Without you to depend on me, what value do I have in this cold, harsh world?"

So, because this forum is a bully pulpit, I'll use it to toss out a challenge. This holiday season, give someone you love the best gift of all: your own independence.

The benefits are two-fold. Facing your fear--finding or renewing your own independent purpose in life--could be the grandest adventure you've ever had. Lord knows there's plenty for everyone to do these days.

And think about this: You may believe that your care has prevented your loved one from falling. But what if--what if?--without you hanging onto her, she flies?

Happy holidays, everyone.

Time Sink

Courtesy of The Week magazine, which was courtesy of my father, who loved keeping me in reading materials, I share with you these websites.

Language lovers, beware: you may find entire days missing from your life.

First is www.urbandictionary.com: a compendium of hip-speak. If someone in your household has used a term with which you're unfamiliar, look it up here. I recently looked up "jones," a term that I have understood in a general way to mean "craving," as in, "I'm jonesing for Nanaimo bars, so let's go by M&M's to pick up some." What I didn't know was that "jones" originally referred to heroin.

If U R a Noob to acronyms and slang, see www.noslang.com. It has separate tabs for British Slang and Drug Slang. You can take quizzes!! It's also a translator: type in the mystifying combination of letters and receive enlightenment.

Those who feel so "out of it" should check www.onlineslangdictionary.com for reassurance. One of its best features is a map that shows who uses a term and where that person lives. So if you don't use the term "snoogy" for "hoodie" (hooded sweatshirt), take heart: it's really just one guy in Massachusetts.

These sites may or may not be useful for translating between American and Canadian. The urban dictionary does list "toque," or as we called it in Oklahoma, "stocking cap." However, you have to know how to spell it--it's pronounced "too-k," not to be confused with "took," like "I took your stocking cap." It's also not how you spell "toke." Not that I know that, like, personally or anything.

Enjoy!

Changing Seasons

Today is a snow day: schools in town were cancelled. That's a pretty rare event in these parts.

I'm not sure that we got all the centimetres of snow we were promised (something like 6 inches' worth--nothing to those who get Lake Effect storms). Still, the wind blew across the lake, and it brought some snow and blew the new stuff and what was already there into funky drifts. Plus the roads weren't completely cleared from the three or four inches we got on Wednesday, or was it Friday...the storms run together.

And we've officially entered the "complain about the weather" season. For some folks, that extends year-round, but most people succumb about this time of year.

The complaining thing doesn't make sense to me. We all have maps. We all know we live in a northern climate.

So why is it an annual surprise that winter is here? And hey--it's cold, too. Again! Just like last year! And guess what--it's snowing, or just about to snow, or just finished snowing. There's a shocker.

At the same time, I notice winter. I grew up with Breezy/Humid, Hot as Hell/Humid, Windy/Humid, and Icy as the primary seasons. (Those could also be nicknames for my siblings, come to think of it, but that might be a thought best pursued another day.)

And I admit it--"Just how cold is it?" is a question I still find irresistible. I monitor the thermometer outside the kitchen window several times a day. I still compare F and C to see just how cold that temperature is. It's all fascinating to me.

For example, I remain astounded at the fact that 0F is pretty darn cold in any situation, while 0C may feel cold in the fall or spring but is pretty balmy when you're getting dressed for skiing. Pile on too many layers and pretty soon your glasses are fogged and you're sweating to the point that you're making yourself colder.

So when does "paying close attention to the weather" become "complaining about the weather"?

If memory serves, around the end of March, I think, when I'm expecting crocus and the snow has become less fun. But at least now, I'm singing "Baby It's Cold Outside!" with gusto.

The Scorecard

Alas, or perhaps not so much, the era in Canadian politics of "two white guys named Steve" is over. Stephane Dion is out, and the new presumptive leader of the Liberal party is Michael Ignatieff.

If the name "Michael Ignatieff" sounds familiar to Americans, it's because he was at Harvard for some time. He came back to Canada a couple of years ago, sucked back home by a power vacuum in the Liberal party. He's served his penance for his American credentials--as Deputy Liberal Leader to Dion (a smart man without an ounce of political charm who bears an odd resemblance to my father, but that's another story).

Now that we know who the players are, we can go back to the message.

So attention, coalition or splintered members thereof: here is your message.

In times like these, Canadians deserve politicians who work together to get things done. We propose these concrete measures that complement the actions of the U.S. "car czar" and these others that will ensure that Canadian pensions are protected. To protect what we consider to be fundamental human rights, we put into place these incentives and investments in healthcare and safe water. And while we're at it, we'll fund incentives so that individuals and companies that re-tool their lives with green technologies get a tax break.

And here's what you don't say, even though it's true: Stephen Harper's divisive rhetoric and "us vs. them" mentality is so five minutes ago. (Rather like the phrase "five minutes ago.") Both main parties have made mistakes in the past, and even the Ontario NDP didn't perform too well when it woke up and found itself in charge. Sure, we would be in better fiscal shape if Harper hadn't spent the surplus, but the Liberals didn't invest a whole lot in infrastructure or energy research. Let's just say that fingers can be pointed all day.

Seriously, we don't have the time nor the energy to care about the past.

These past few weeks have been difficult for Canadian politicians in Ottawa and in the provinces. But compared to the rest of us, you've had it easy. We gave you guaranteed jobs. Now do them--get to work for us.

Rick Mercer's Best Rant Yet

I was going to give the NDP and Liberal parties their new talking points for the next six weeks, but they're busy ousting leaders and yapping like Jack Russell terriers and whatnot.

Instead, here is Rick Mercer's take on the political shenanigans.

Just one highlight of many quotable quotes:

With leaders like this, we shouldn't be blamed for asking, "Why bother?"

Rick Mercer is like Jon Stewart, only smarter, funnier, and more Everyman, without a trace of irony. On his weekly political humour show, he does a "rant" in the alleys near the studio. It's one shot, the camera is tilted for a little extra artsy flair, and the commentary itself is articulate and pointed.

Much like this essay. Go, Rick.

Men Behaving Badly

The title of this post describes Canadian politics during the past couple of weeks. I exempt the Governor General from the title because she's a woman but also because she really had little choice but to award the "time out" the Prime Minister requested. Her job is to not insert herself (an unelected official) into the governing process--and granting the Prime Minister a "do-over" is perhaps the least intrusive thing she could have done. But I hope she yelled at him a little and told him this was his last chance.

In any case, I find myself in an unusual position: I now feel more proud of a U.S. politician than the politicians in Canada. I'm not sure I have ever felt this way before.

Before I moved here, I made no pretense of understanding or really following Canadian politics, other than trying to keep up with the name of the person in charge. I paid attention during the NAFTA negotiations, and during the leadup to the Iraq war, and other times when American allies were in the news in the U.S. However, parliamentary politics is all new to me in the past three to four years.

Nevertheless, I was like other liberals in the U.S. in holding a slight envy for some Canadian values that have translated into public policy. Like universal healthcare as a human right. Like limits on gun ownership. I figured Canadian politicians were probably more enlightened and competent, too.

And the venality of American politicians has increased. As you know or can imagine, actions of U.S. politicians--and I include the Senate and House, Democrats and Republicans--during the past eight years have been difficult for me to believe. I started to list examples and it turns the stomach.

But those thousands of days are already beginning to fade, though I won't forget their lessons. And now, I see a lot of pleasing news from the U.S. The President-Elect is surrounding himself with diverse opinions. He is clear about his role until the end of January--there's just one President at a time. However, he also understands how important it is for the electorate to see him doing something, anything, to show he will hit the ground running. And he's doing a lot of good things.

It's amazing for me to say this, but...politicians in Canada could learn from the example of their incoming neighbo(u)r to the south. There. I said it.

So folks who recently fled Ottawa, use this time wisely. Stop telling Canadians that you deserve to govern or that others are going to destroy the country--our sky is falling all around us. We don't have time to worry about your manufactured crises; there are plenty of real ones out there.

Instead, remember the arguments you should be making--that your ideas will help solve the impending economic difficulties while protecting the least able among us. We want, and need, to hear about those.

Peter Brady Wants a Time Out

As you recall from yesterday's episode, Peter Brady was elected Prime Minister, but he acted like a jerk. All the other kids banded together and demanded to form the family government. Then everyone had to wait for Carol Brady to get home to referee.

The Prime Minister today asks the Governor General to prorogue Parliament. News outlets nearly uniformly refer to this as a "time out," but whether they mean it in the sports sense or in the family discipline sense is unclear. And it doesn't matter. Either way, it's a time for all involved to cool off and plan some strategy. And Lord knows Canadians deserve politicians who act like adults. Now that there's one in the U.S., waiting in the wings, we're all resting easier.

Even if I liked the Prime Minister, and by now we all know I don't, last night's address to the nation would have irritated me. He spent some four minutes talking in what he must have thought was a calm, rational voice about the sky falling and the world going to hell in a handbasket. He was quietly patronizing--a radical departure from his normal loud and sneering forms of condescension--and continuing to talk about the wrong things.

Oh, the missed opportunity. He could have shown himself to be an adult and a statesman last night. He could have talked about specific economic plans. He could have reassured Canadians that he and his party know the seriousness of job loss, unemployment, hunger, homelessness, and deficits. He could have inspired Canadians to band together to address the country's growing issues.

But he continued to talk ONLY about how TERRIBLE AND AWFUL Bobby, Cindy, Marsha, and Greg are--to say nothing of that awful Jan, who AS WE ALL KNOW has gone on record as wanting to be an only child and THEREFORE THREATENS THE UNITY OF THE FAMILY, WHICH CAN'T BE GOOD FOR CANADA. You know there's no hope for serious action when I break out the ALL CAPS.

I'm making light of this, but it really is a serious issue. What the opposition parties are doing is analogous to impeaching a sitting President of the U.S. in that it is an orderly succession of power in the face of wrongdoing by the chief executive. It's not an action of the same seriousness, though. Harper isn't guilty of offenses as serious as those that can bring on impeachment--breaking the law. Harper seems to be guilty mostly of making decisions in the midst of what seems to be a perplexing, uncharacteristic attack of stupid.

Fortunately, a "time out" is an option here. Canadians will likely then have another election in January. Unfortunately, unless someone else marries into this Brady Bunch, and quickly, Canadians won't have any new choices. No wonder Canadians just want to change the channel.

Leave for a Week

...and the government changes, with perogies for everyone!

OK, not exactly.

You remember, of course, the Canadian election in October. It was ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY because the Prime Minister claimed Parliament had become dysfunctional, because they passed everything he proposed. Although that is indeed a sign of dysfunction, it's not dysfunction in the way Harper meant. But that's a separate story.

What Harper meant was, "I think I could get a majority government now, so I'm going to call an election even though I previously passed legislation making it illegal to call an election for another year." I've said before that Harper is learning some lessons by looking to the snide and condescending attitudes of executives in the U.S. He's obviously been studying their power grabs, too.

I suspect the election was motivated in part by a wish that Canadians were interested in their own election as much as they were interested in the U.S. election. Or else it was motivated by the belief that Canadians wouldn't notice there was a Canadian election, given the feisty, maverick drama playing to the south.

But anyway, there was a completely unnecessary election in which Harper achieved not a whole lot, to great expense.

Then the U.S. election happened. Although Canadian news organizations are following President-Elect Obama's every move as breathlessly as the U.S. news organizations are, that still leaves plenty of time for dead air.

So someone decided to make things interesting. And the biggest surprise is that that "someone" was Stephen Harper! He decided to cut off financial support for political parties. The Liberal Party was already weakened by the election and in the middle of a leadership crisis. Although some Canadians may indeed be happy that electoral reform is on the agenda in Ottawa, this seems like an obvious "kick them when they're down" strategy.

And speaking of arrogance and cockiness, Harper made this bill a confidence motion. Voting against it brings down the few-week-old government. So here's the choice for the opposition parties: vote to cut off your right arm, or tell Canadians it's time for another election. Talk about "rock" and "hard place"!

So the three parties in opposition--the New Democrats, the Liberals, and the Bloc Quebecois--got together. They're now planning to go to the Governor-General and ask her to let them form a government, since Harper is unable to form one. Although rumor said that Michael Ignatieff was going to be the PM, recently it looks like Dion would be PM, with Jack Layton (the NDP leader) as Deputy PM.

The Bloc, which is against Quebec being in Canada at all, would of course be prevented from having a role in this government. Why? Because their party exists for the sole purpose of extracting Quebec from this country. (For Americans: It's like people running for federal office on the "Big Government is Bad" platform and then legalizing spying on the public and spending epic and wasteful sums on the miliary, leaving huge debt and running huge deficits. Sound familiar?)

It's also just like in The Brady Bunch, when one of the kids does something stupid and the rest of them gang up on him or her, and then Carol Brady has to explain that we're all in this together because we're one family now. Only the Governor General wears more stylish clothing and is more substantive all around.

But it's a dilemma, all right. Do you pick Peter Brady even though he confuses wearing a blue sweater with having family values and goes back on his own laws? Or do you hope for the best with the rest of the squabbling bunch of kids in charge? Do Bobby and Cindy have the economic experience to help the family weather their financial woes? Greg and Marcia may be making out in the tent in the back yard now, but how long will that alliance last? And that Jan--she's always a wild card.

Let's also keep in mind that in the recent election, Dion inspired even less confidence than the previous Liberal leader did in the previous election, and less confidence in his ability to run the country than Stephen Harper did. The Liberal party lost seats in the October election. Voters obviously didn't think Dion could lead the country. So, even though Jan ran in the recent election and more of the country voted for Peter, Jan would end up as the leader. How is this fair? Mom? Dad?

On the up side, I'm learning new vocabulary very quickly. Recently, Harper announced something that I thought was about perogies, those tasty mashed-potato-pasta morsels smothered in mushrooms, onions, and sour cream. Even I would vote for that!

But it turned out he said "prorogue," which means that he'd suspend Parliament until January sometime. I assume he's hoping that the Canadian economy will hold on until then and that by the end of January, President Obama will have enough details in place that Harper can develop something for Canada.

Never mind that Canada is a separate country. Never mind that Harper is an economist and could be expected to have his own programs. Never mind that the holidays would be far less merry in a power vacuum like that. "Blue Christmas" must be the PM's favourite Christmas song.

Truthfully, I think a lot of this is inspired by election envy. "Boring? Who says Canadian politics is boring? We got our colo(u)rful characters up here, too! See?"

But to get back to my main point, which seems to be my life's refrain: This is serious, people. It's not time for hi-jinks, for wackiness ensuing, for Learning Valuable Lessons in 1970s California. I can joke about the Brady Bunch, but that's really not fair to Canadians, or Americans, for that matter.

This is a real situation. Real people are losing jobs. They're supporting families; they have serious debt and no employment prospects. Relief agencies are working overtime. However this situation is resolved, the people in charge had better be ready. If now is not a good time for Harper to make a power grab, it's not a good time for the opposition parties to, either.

Instead, it's time for real leadership. And in Canadian politics today, the Governor General seems to be our best hope.

And the best of luck to her, too.

Whew (Technically)

Canada's in a recession. Yep. I think most of us saw that "let's face facts" moment coming.

But, we are relieved to learn, we really don't need to worry--it's only a technical recession, according to the Prime Minister and his Finance Minister. Well. Whew, indeed!

During the recent Canadian election, mere weeks ago, the Prime Minister said, "The fundamentals of the Canadian economy are strong," in that "you're too stupid to breathe" tone he adopted from the Decider-in-Chief to the south.

I suppose that insistence explains why the current recession is only technical.

And we all feel better. Technically.

Sheesh.

I'd Prefer an Expert

A Canadian hardware chain has been running tons of ads lately. It's using a concept in which an employee, looking like someone you'd see in the neighbourhood, smiles and shows a customer something that is apparently just what the customer didn't even know she wanted. Delight all around!

I haven't really paid attention to this campaign until recently, in part because the "just-folks" personalities don't have lines. There's just a manly-man voiceover. But then I figured out what they were singing: "Homeowners helping homeowners."

No, thanks! I don't want the guy next door helping me with a home renovation or repair project. Actually, I personally did even marry the guy next door in part because he knows how to do all kinds of home care projects and cares about my "homes" and he "helps" me (see summer photos of the roof). But in theory, no.

Just like I don't want the couple next door, under the direction and guidance of some "designer" who's famous for being on a TV show, to make over a room in my house in 24 hours. Are you kidding? I've seen what-all that next-door-neighbour couple leaves in their back yard. I've heard their screaming. I've smelled their barbecue.

At the risk of talking about the recent U.S. election again, this commercial echoes the idea that what the public wants is "someone just like them," or "the American Idol" candidate, to run the country. No, we don't. We want someone who knows more than we do, so we can go back to doing what we do best as our contribution to the whole.

So if I have to take time from the work I do best to figure out something in the house, give me an expert to help. Someone with a license and a business and insurance and a track record. And if that's who this hardware chain employs, great--tell me that.

Holiday Dissonance

Next week I'm "going American" to celebrate Thanksgiving.

In October, I was on the road and therefore missed Thanksgiving when it was on the minds of Canadians. Next week, I will be making another trip south of the border and will enjoy the holiday with a brother and much of his family.

The thing is, people up here have blithely scheduled events as if the holiday, or my absence, doesn't matter. Don't they know I'll be gone and therefore miss the readings (at least two, possibly three!), the meetings, the deadlines, the dinner-dance, the concerts?

It's as if the mice are playing while this cat is, um, also playing, I guess. Never mind.

Closure

Actually, I don't believe in closure--which I loosely define as being emotionally ready to move on after something monumental happens.

I guess I believe (for the purposes of this blog post) that closure, like forgiveness, is an action. Closure is like this: you decide to move on, you find other things to do that you suspect might be good for you, you do them, and eventually you find that the hurt isn't as bad, the emptiness is filling, or the moment of joy has brightened the entire fabric of your life.

After my mother's death, my father spent a year "staying busy," and then he found that he WAS busy, surrounded by friends and a supportive community. He didn't miss my mother less; he just lived with it more easily. In this, as in so many other things, he set an excellent example. (I have to say this aloud because he also made me nuts, and I said that aloud, so....)

How closure fits into one's grief process is unique. In my case, it's not even in there. Nothing is really "over." Whatever experience it was is part of you irrevocably. So closure is really the wrong name for it. It's more like a change in direction, that involves the pit of my stomach somehow.

Whatever it is, whatever it's called, it doesn't descend upon you--you have to do it. That's my main point.

Over the weekend, a dear friend recommended that I read the Newsweek special issue about the American election. I read it Saturday night--glued to the computer screen. It is fascinating. An overview and seven chapters from behind the scenes of each candidate's campaign (and plenty from Hillary, too)--embargoed until after the election. Surprising and not. Instructive. Fascinating. Did I mention fascinating? And satisfying, like a piece of dark chocolate after a meal. I now have enough information about the past to anticipate the future in a more balanced way.

I have also graciously shared my thoughts on the impending Utopia with the President-Elect's transition team here. (There's a link at the bottom where you share your vision. I don't like to just share stories--I like to tell people what to do.) So they know what I think. The best part is, while they don't care about my opinion because they don't know me, they do care about my opinion in theory and as part of an aggregate.

Therefore, if enough people email to say "Invest in basic scientific research to prime the innovation pump, and target technology transfer spending and consumer economic incentives to green technologies," we will be heard. Or "Include ASL interpreters at every briefing, and you will create incredible goodwill and harness an entire generation's energy for change," or "Continue your great job of making intelligence a valued commodity again." For example.

My life path didn't include a stopover in Washington (or Ottawa, for that matter). That's perfectly fine with me, because there's plenty in my life to get done, and some of those things have to get done pretty soon. (Deadlines.) The discipline of paying attention to "now" will also help me switch focus from the election hubbub. Discipline. Doesn't forward progress always come back to that?

Anyway, now I really do think I'm done, in the sense of "What's next?" At least for today. I highly recommend it.

I Got Nuthin'

I've been trying to return to normal life this week but it's been tough going. I've been dreaming of a post-Bush world since, what, November of 2000. Eight years later, it's on its way and I don't know what else to think about.

Of course that description is an exaggeration. Politics has been an interest of mine, in a sideways way, for years. My father and I could always bond over a discussion of the vagaries of the political system. But I'm not a politician. I don't write seriously about politics. I'm probably more informed than the average Joe, lastname The Plumber or Six-Pack or whatever you want to dream up. But that isn't saying much. It really hasn't been my life. I can't imagine the kind of withdrawal actual political junkies are going through.

So I've been trying to work (with a little success, yippee). Reading the magazines that piled up while we were gone. Taking care of business, which is easily a half- or even three-quarter-time job. Picking up and opening books, and putting them down again before getting past the first paragraph.

And walking, rain or about-to-rain or momentarily-finished-with-the-rain. (Those seem to be November's weather options.) While walking, I've seen a doe, a blue jay, a pileated woodpecker, various whiskey jacks, and chickadees. The other night we were driving into town for an event and bobcat crossed the road in front of us. That's always cool.

The photo above is about six weeks old. When I was uploading photos earlier today, I thought of that line from Ain't Misbehavin': "Everybody needs a little gold, baby."

So that's what I got. A little gold. Enjoy.

Half-Coherent

Actually, the subject line is a goal. Half-coherence would be good.

One of my exes talked about "toiling with an idea." I always thought it was a pretty apt description. I take ideas and worry them to death. Toiling includes toying, at first. But at some point, it just feels like work and then I need to write about it.

I've been toiling with a couple of ideas for a couple of days now. I know they are related. Somehow. We'll see how this goes. Bear with me, because they are important enough to have kept me toiling.

They're both related to the election and life in the U.S.

First, a lot of people have been saying, "I feel like I got my country back." I understand what they mean. I too have felt alienated from "my country"--the one where I was born and spent the first half (ulp) of my life--for the past eight years.

It feels terrible to disagree (vehemently, if not violently) with the actions of the people elected to serve you. To feel your heart race when your perspectives and beliefs are skewered and dismissed, at volume and with open disdain, in public, with no one representing your views. To feel unwelcome in community and "family" settings, to feel muzzled and unable to relax among the people who, in theory, are tied to you by more than blood.

And I am serious--vehemently--when I say that I don't want ANYONE to feel that way now.

But I have been wondering about something. Who took "my country" away from me? Who alienated, or was aliented from, whom? If I don't want to feel alienated and don't want those who voted for McCain (or opted not to vote) to feel alientated, we all have to hang in there. Nobody can check out of public life. Which is, basically what I did. No wonder I felt so remote from "my country"--I'd left, mentally and emotionally long before I left physically.

Life in Canada has been a fabulous process of finding myself again and anew. I am engaged in life in a way I wasn't in the U.S. This is my home. I'm not even tempted to consider anything else.

But why is it easier to live here? I tell myself that in my life in the U.S., I wasn't able to participate, that they didn't want to hear me, that I wasn't welcome if I didn't share all the "right" beliefs, that "they" shut me down and pushed me out.

Those things are true. And yet--I'm an adult. I'm the one who checked out. I walked away, physically, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually. I put distance between myself and my country (physically, etc.). It's easier for me to live here, and live fully, in part because I have given myself permission to do so. So again--who alienated, or was alienated from, whom?

The second, somehow related idea is this: there is no "right to be agreed with" in the U.S. Constitution. All the freedoms that it mentions--I'm thinking mostly about the right to believe whatever and talk about those beliefs (without hurting others)--do have limits.

When I lived in the U.S., I wanted the right to be heard, listened to, and agreed with. That people would say, "What is your perspective? We never thought of it that way before. You're right; we'll change now." And there's no guarantee of that last sentence.

I'm not stupid--I know in my head that people don't have to agree with me. I never had that right in any house I ever lived in, including this one. In fact, I want my "family," whether we are related by blood or vow, to say "OK, but have you thought about this?"

What I did expect, and what is reasonable to expect in my home, was that my opinion would be respected. I was right to leave a life in which that was not true.

What we can all also reasonably expect from the world at large, outside a family, is similar. There must be room in the public sphere for people to express opinions, respectfully, without shouting and without being shouted down. Those opinions may not be reflected in law or policy or programming. But it should still be OK to have them.

So what I hope follows from this election is the installation (or restoration) of two of those rights: the right to be heard and listened to. Nobody has, or should reasonably expect, the right to be agreed with. But we do all expect, and deserve, to be treated with respect, and we must be held accountable when we do not treat others with that respect.

But all of that is still pretty fuzzy. For one thing, I keep thinking about what Linus said: "I love mankind. It's people I can't stand." In theory, I don't want anyone to feel as bad as I have the past eight years. Except, of course, for those individuals I know whose views I find repulsive, with whom I don't exchange respect. Those people can feel bad for awhile. A long while.

And while I'm copping to being as human as the next person, I get it, totally. It's hard not to feel that "I got my country back" because its incoming Commander-in-Chief tends to agree with me more than the last one did. Because my side "won." But that makes half of the country "losers," afraid and adrift as I was. And that makes my stomach hurt on their behalf, even (a little bit, but only a little bit) for the people whose opinions I don't respect.

I just know this: If I, and the U.S., can't move beyond that "us/them" divide, we all lose. This toiling mind just keeps coming back to that.

If only people would just AGREE WITH ME. What a fabulous place the world would be THEN.

Dear Senator McCain

Congratulations on running for President of the U.S. I wish I could feel guilty or otherwise bad for not voting for you, but I don't. Here's why--and I know you don't really care. You don't know me. But hey, it's my blog.

So, here's why I can't apologize for not voting for you. Until 2000, your actions consistently showed your dedication to applying your principles in the service of the public. Public service--doing things for people like us. However, in 2000, you started supporting Bush--and you lost my vote. However grudgingly or unwillingly, you campaigned for him, you supported him in public--and all the while, you knew better. You knew that he doesn't care about people like us. You let us down.

However, you are a principled man. In your concession speech, you took a step back--not backwards, back--to the John McCain I respect (though often disagree with). (Although you could have shushed the boos a little more vigorously, just as in the campaign, you could have told that scared woman that Arabs are OK people, too. But woulda, coulda, shoulda.) As a principled man, you recognize other principled men, even those you disagree with. These people can help you now.

So here's a suggestion. Phone the best ex-President we've ever had, Jimmy Carter. Find out from him how to best use your power now. He has walked that line between doing and advising, and between advising and interfering, and he's gotten it wrong sometimes and right sometimes, and he's happily lived with the consequences.

When you call him, he will probably tell you this, but if he doesn't, I will. Phone Hillary Clinton. (Force Bill to give her the phone.) She's another person who's smart as a whip. The two of you claimed bipartisanship as credentials in the campaign. Show us that you weren't just claiming them--that you really want to be part of the solutions during the Obama Administration. If you're both in the Senate, wield your power there. If one or both of you gets or takes a cabinet position, so much the better. You can see how it would help each of you individually to do this--but it will help all the rest of us even more.

President Carter will likely also tell you this: phone Barak Obama. Every week, every day, whatever. Keep calling. He has shown us that he will surround himself with smart people. He will take your call. You are not only a principled man--your principles actually have a solid foundation other than fear, and you're intelligent. The President will need your perspective. He will continue to listen to you, and he will probably co-opt your better ideas, and you may or may not get the credit--and you know that's how public service works.

In fact, you can be sure that he will always take a call from you--which, come to think of it, is why I can't apologize for not voting for you. If you had won, I doubt you'd have worked with Senator Obama. You would have been told that it was unwise. And unfortunately, those are the people you listened to during your campaign, instead of your own common sense or better angels or whatever label you want to apply.

But the campaign is over now. Congratulations on a hard-fought race. And now I look forward to seeing John McCain, the real one, in the Senate again.

Roll Up Your Sleeves

So, we voted for change. That means us, too. And it starts today. Now.

It's OK to start small. Buy your McCain-supporting friends or relatives (most especially in-laws) a drink, a coffee, some chocolate. Take it to them and sit with them. Start talking about the weather, the crops, whether it's time for Regis Philbin to retire. Stop talking and listen. Silence is OK--but sit there awhile. And don't forget to listen. What do they need? How can you help?

Think about what and how YOU will change in YOUR life to meet the challenges ahead. Maybe you can share those activities with those who are nervous and hurting today. Go in on a side of local beef together; share freezer space. Go to the local Farmer's Market. Sign up for a course in conversational Spanish or go for a walk. Join a group putting together holiday packages for the overseas troops. Do things to help the world, and do them with someone who disagreed with you yesterday.

You don't have to make these changes all at once--in fact, you can't. These changes are not the kind you can do in one grand gesture. These changes will be a daily thing, a discipline. We have to build bridges, but they're built one brick at a time. We have to listen to each other, talk to each other, and work together.

I wish I didn't need to say this, but I fear I must: don't gloat. Gloating is not only bad form; it's bad for you. It's immature and irresponsible. No one of us is any "better" than any other. If you truly believe that you "won" last night, remember what one of my swim coaches used to say: "When one of us wins, we all win." And it's your responsibility to make that true. So reach out.

I know that saying all this makes me too serious and un-fun. I've been called that before, and I'm OK with it.

But you're saying you want to savor the moment, to celebrate. Fine. You can wait till tomorrow to get to work, but no longer. And it would be better to start today.

As my favorite President, West Wing's Josiah Bartlet, used to say, "What's next?" Break's over. It's time to move on. The world is different today and we can harness its new energy. Yes we can.

Another Message While We Wait

For those in the U.S., here's a request. Please please please. If your candidate loses, please don't say, "I'm moving to Canada."

I know you're just joking, but seriously. It's not a good joke. Don't even say it, and for sure don't come here. Your responsibility is to stay home and stay involved in your community. Put your beliefs into practice. Help someone else, even if that person voted for the "winner." Maybe even especially if that person is a "winner."

Let me back up. I know that I may look like the world's biggest pot calling hypothetical kettles black. However, as anyone who actually knows me knows, I moved here for reasons of real estate and stayed for reasons of love. Politics didn't enter into it. Sure, Bush and Cheney and their ridiculous vision for the U.S. made it easier to stay here. But they didn't cause me to leave.

There are people in this world who are REAL political refugees. They tend not to come from countries that are democracies, where raspberries are available in grocery stores year-round, where public libraries and the Internet hold more information than we can comprehend in a lifetime, where roads are paved, and where food safety failures are cause for outrage and lawsuits.

You are not a political refugee. You're just hurting a bit right now. You really don't want to come up here--you just want to run away from the hurt. Believe me, I know how that feels.

But you're lucky to live where you do. You're lucky that voting for the "loser" doesn't mean that supporters of the "winner" will appear at your door with a machete. Count your blessings. Lick your wounds. Stay put.

If you still think you're really serious about moving here, you should know a few things. Actual pieces of information. The capital city of the country. The names of a few of the provinces (no, they're not states here). The name of the current prime minister and, oh, at least one other from the past 140+ years. (Hint: look at the money.) This knowledge isn't too hard to find. Try Google.

But mostly, if you want to move here, think about this: how can you contribute to this country? That's right--how can you GIVE? It's about GIVING, after all, not GETTING. You don't get the benefits of the healthcare system without contributing to society.

Is this too hard? Yeah, I thought so. It's OK. I knew you really wanted to stay in the U.S. all along. Give it a little time and then get back out there and do something nice for someone else. You'll feel better. And so will we.

A Message While We Wait

To smokers: why on earth do you think it's OK to throw your cigarette butts out car windows into otherwise pristine air?

You're inhaling so much crap into your body. Why not do us all a favor and eat the butt while you're at it? Dying sooner will relieve some of the burden on the healthcare system.

Why yes, I picked up litter on my walk this morning, why do you ask? Even out here in scenic Shuniah, smokers apparently think throwing their garbage onto the ground somehow doesn't "count" as the foul deed we know it is.

Wha??

Back to your nail-biting, folks.

A Sign of Maturity

That's what I'd like to think, anyway. Because here I am to tell you how wrong I was. That's right, Fonz--I was WRONG and I can say the whole word.

In June, I posted about my irritation with irony. In it I said I disliked This American Life, a public radio program hosted by Ira Glass. And now I am here to take it all back.

While we were driving across several U.S. states, both red and blue (but mostly red), we heard a couple of different segments of This American Life that explained the housing market implosion and the credit crunch. They were informative and entertaining and only slightly voice-in-the-back-of-the-throat ironic.

You can listen to the first show here, and those who wrote that show have created updates you can find at that link, too.

I'm still no expert on the vagaries of money, and dealing in money that is only theoretical. I suppose money itself is theoretical, since the paper at one time represented a certain amount of gold hidden somewhere.

At the Shell Museum on Sanibel Island in Florida, there was a huge exhibit about the use of cowrie shells for money. Those days are gone and it makes life more convenient for people like me--I'm off to check my bank balances online, in two countries.

Losers and Losers

For those of you who haven't been reading between the lines, I'm back from a tour through the U.S. We saw friends in Florida and hit family in various spots.

As it happened, we were gone from Canada for the Canadian election; though present in the U.S. for the last of their debates, we are also back in time to miss their election. And of course, I already voted. Just the once, though, south of the border.

The U.S. rhetoric on TV stations--though possibly not from at least one of the candidates--is very divisive. There are winners and losers. There have been winners and losers in the past eight years, and those who were losers now want to be winners. On November 5, nearly half of the U.S. electorate will have lost. Just like on most Saturday afternoons, when college football teams play, or Sundays, when the pros do.

Things feel different up here. Perhaps it's just having been gone for the post-mortem of the election. However, in Canada, it seems that there are losers and there are losers.

The most visible loser is Stephen Harper. He didn't get his majority, his mandate to remake Canada in his smugly blue-sweatered, snipey image. Rumor has it that today he will create "junior" cabinet minister positions, to which he will appoint some women. Words fail me. Rona Ambrose, the Sarah Palin of environment ministers a couple of years ago, apparently did teach him a lesson. The wrong one, though. (The one he learned: women aren't competent. The one he should have learned: don't promote women before their time. You don't see him creating junior cabinet positions for men--though he experienced Maxime Bernier, too. But I digress.)

The second-most-visible loser is Stephane Dion. He was unable to connect to Canadians; his party was unable to inspire Canadians. He will be replaced as leader. If he's lucky, he'll attain the same status as Jimmy Carter did in the Democratic Party. Meanwhile, the buzzards are circling. The leadership race will be interesting to watch.

Jack Layton picked up at least two new seats, both of the ridings representing Thunder Bay. We'll see how that turns out--both for us and for him.

But the absolute most biggest and hugest and largest and most important loser of all is the Canadian voter. Five weeks of campaigning. And nothing much changed, except that it all cost money.

One can hope that the same won't be said of the U.S. in a week or so.

I wonder if "lose-lose" is part of the Canadian fabric in the same way that the "win-lose" dichotomy is American. Certainly Canadians understand winning; they play hockey.

But perhaps winning in hockey is different for Canadians than for Americans. For one thing, most Canadians are avid fans of teams in the U.S., though they might also support Canadian teams. They have to be ecumenical in their tastes--their hometown boys play all throughout North America. Therefore, a Canadian's success on any team, no matter what country it's in, can be construed as a win for Canada.

And the converse is also true--even if a Canadian team won the Stanley Cup, the players would include Americans (and those from other countries). And mostly it's not Canada-based teams that win. So any "win," even for a rabid Redwings or Avalanche fan, is shadowed with the knowledge that it's not a win they can exactly own.

Meanwhile, in the U.S., the attitude is largely "Hey, they're all Americans now. Or they want to be." Because everyone wants to be an American.

So what does this all mean? I don't know. But have I mentioned how good it is to be home?

How many Ls in "Unparallellellellelled"?

Today's bumper sticker: "NOBAMA." We did pass through Alabama today (just a teensy bit of it) so I first thought it was something related to sports and the Crimson Tide. But I think it was political. Yep. You have to admire cleverness even when you disagree with it.

Even driving on the Interstate, you still see occasional wildlife. Today I saw several egrets and a heron hunting in ditch water just off the side of the road. Also, raccoons seem to be traveling slowly this year. So I aver based on my unscientific observation of the number of mangled, stripe-tailed bodies on the pavement.

That's all I have today. Live and dead wildlife and bumper stickers.

(Unparallel) (but not Unparallelled) Notes from the Road

Homemade but professional-looking bumper sticker seen in the window of a car in a Venice, Florida parking lot: "McPain"

After last week's election up north, one news program ran a bumper across the bottom about Harper's conservative victory. One. Yep. One.

One pundit also tried to make something of this for McCain--see, Canada is turning rightward from its socialist tendencies. That bodes well for McCain. Two exiles snorted and said, "Harper couldn't get the majority he wanted when it was practically given to him with both hands."

What is with elections and candidates "debating" while sitting at a table? Whose idea was this? Weren't the Party Honchos watching the weird debate with the five of the Canadian candidates sitting at a triangular table? Oh wait, silly question. See, Party Honchos, there's this country called Canada. They had an election, too!

Today's weirdest moment: seeing the airfield where the 9/11 terrorists learned to fly planes. Across the street was a nondescript apartment building where they lived. My Aunt gets email at the public library--where they confiscated the hard drives because terrorists had also been emailing from the public library. OK, a few weird moments.

It's amazing how quickly I get used to using $1 bills as opposed to coins. My wallet is flatter and lighter, too. Getting lighter all the time, in fact.

Speaking of getting lighter, gas sits at $2.79 a gallon--slightly less than we paid at the border and less than through the middle of the country. And way less than its high of $4+ just about a month ago.

So far, so good with the "Tour de Hurricane." Back soon to the land of jackets, shoes, and socks.

One Down, One to Go

How do you say "colossal waste of time" in French?

That's what the Canadian election turned out to be. Prime Minister Harper must form a minority government. That's a good thing--he has to be nice to people.

The Liberals are the largest opposition party, though the NDP gained ground. They will likely pick a new leader. That could be really bad news for Stephen Harper, if they pick someone who "everybody knows" is a better leader. Last time, "everybody knew" Stephane Dion wasn't a good leader. He is now the Jimmy Carter of Canada--a good man and a smart who somehow doesn't come across.

Here's one thing about the U.S. electoral system in this century that is reassuring--eight years is all we can have of the exact same bozo. We can elect a wife or husband, a son or daughter, or an acolyte of the bozo. But thanks to the system, we won't be seeing "W" in office after January.

Up here, we now get to watch the same thing that we did two years ago. Harper taking office. A Liberal leadership election.

No wonder Canadians treat U.S. politics a little like a spectator sport. Different bozos win from time to time.

Pronouncements

A brief dispatch from the "People Talk Funny Around Here" department...

Up here, people pronounce the word "comfortable" with four syllables. In Oklahoma, it has three: COME-fter-bull.

Up here, people use the term "bush" as a synonym for "forest," in the sense of "the trees all around us." It's also used metaphorically, as someone in the southern U.S. might use "backwoods" to be polite about describing a hillbilly (bless his heart).

That's all. I'm cleaning little bits of crap out of the Department of Redundancy Department files and ran across these.

A previous dispatch in this vein is here.

Oh, that "a" sound that makes PAH-stuh into PASS-tuh up here also applies in the word "latte." So they sing of "Taylor the LATT-tay boy," while Kristen Chenoweth--incidentally, a good ol' Oklahoma gal and former beauty queen who is NOT running for Vice President--sings "Taylor the LAH-tay boy."

Feist Me No More

N.B. The subject line does not refer to the Canadian singer best known south of 49 for pushing iPods. ("One, two, three, four..."--yeah, that one. She's very bendy about the hips, isn't she?)

I want to take a term off the table for the rest of...for the rest of eternity, if I could. For the rest of 2009, for sure. And that term?

Feisty.

It's not just because "feisty" is often paired with "gal" to describe a female who's channelling Debbie Reynolds. (Nothing against Debbie Reynolds--I loved Singin' in the Rain, but c'mon: Molly Brown, Annie Getting Her Gun...could she play anything but feisty?)

It's not even because feisty gals wink at the camera. A LOT.

No. The word is anathema because "feisty" is really a contraction formed by combining "brash" and "ignorant" with "shameless" and hiding the hybrid behind new letters.

And you can even picture why feisty is not a good thing. Simply visualize a room with Palestinians sitting on one side of a table and Israelis on the other. By some miracle, they are actually talking to each other. Now mentally place Feisty Vice President Palin in the room with them. Nuclear weapons, people. Is that really a scenario in which we want some feisty?

Well, OK--maybe the one who sells iPods. But otherwise, no.

Yes, we've seen feisty (brash + ignorant + shameless) in the White House for the past eight years. And we have survived. But we don't know by what skin on whose teeth that has been possible. We can't take any more chances.

Crap-Free Jubilee: a Sermon

Brothers and sisters--or as my Uncle Allen would say, "brethren and cistern"--brothers and sisters, we gather today in celebration. And by "today," I mean whatever day it is you read this, from whatever computer located in whatever part of this beautiful blue marble we call Planet Earth, for this celebration is special.

This celebration is two-fold.

This celebration knows not the boundaries of time--except that the time for this celebration is now.

This celebration knows not the boundaries of space--except that space is running out.

Today marks Day One post-Crapture in this part of our world.

Yes, my friends--today we close the door on the Bin and open the door to a new, reduced-crap life.

As King James told us our brother Matthew once wrote that Jesus said (6:19) "Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust doth corrupt and where thieves break through and steal." To Jesus, and Matthew and King James, I would say these things: you forgot to mention the rodents, and one might only wish that thieves wanted this crap, for insurance payments must follow and why else have we been paying premiums all these years?

However, the point is this: what we have been holding on to, my brothers and sisters, is the past. In the past, we have had visions of future projects for which we might need hundreds of metal lids from frozen juice containers and dozens of emptied margarine tubs. In the past, we have had hope that the leaks in our vessels for storing and dispensing water would heal themselves if we carefully labeled those vessels and left them in the basement. In the past, we have imagined setting aside time to re-read annotated devotion books from the 1990s.

But today, we have been freed from that past. We have been floundering in the Inland Sea of Life (the deeper part), weighted down with visions for the future that required keeping this crap. And today, we cut ourselves free. We no longer cling tight to those visions of the future that require that crap. And thus, we float to the surface, and we begin our swim anew.

Of course, our new life will have challenges of its own. As we celebrate our new existence, we must also bear in mind that this celebration has two parts. Yes, are free from the past--detritus from times past no longer holds us back.

But in our new life, we must also take up a new vision: we do not want future generations to hold fast to the burdens we have only recently cast off. Remember, this jubilee knows not the boundaries of space, for the Crapture can happen anywhere--but everywhere, space is running out. As the wise bumper sticker writer has said, most often in Santa Fe and Boulder, "Throw it away? There is no 'away.'"

Therefore, even in our new, reduced-crap state, we must exercise discipline. Yes, we need strategies to dispose of coffee cans once they are emptied of the fuel for our lives. We do not need to keep empty coffee cans in the basement. No, we do not! We are making headway on those strategies--sending five off with Gordon the handyman to line the bottom of his toolbox was a good beginning, and we can pat ourselves on the back for it.

But brothers and sisters, we need to continue. We need the discipline to pursue those strategies, even unto sorting our refuse before taking it to the recycle depot on the next day we combine errands in town.

And I say to you, even discipline is not enough. We need to do more. For, as those who have borrowed against the equity in their house to pay their credit card bills have discovered, some so-called "solutions" are temporary band-aids, completely ineffective against the spurting arteries of spending.

In the same vein--as my Uncle Allen would say--in the same vein, throwing crap away is a temporary solution at best. We need to do yet more. That's right, brothers and sisters: each of us, and all of us together, must take up a new attitude to match our new freedom in our new, reduced-crap life. We must think differently and do differently. Specifically, we must do our part to create less crap in the first place.

We can meet this challenge, yes we can. We can carry travel mugs with us as we trek from coffee shop to coffee shop, thereby avoiding the use of disposable cups. We can look on store shelves for products wrapped in less packaging. And those ready for the ultimate challenge can do this: we can think twice before buying new crap.

Oh, brothers and sisters. Can you hear the naysayers? I can! I can hear them now, saying "Nay! The economic engines of our countries will grind to a halt if we spend not!" But do not be persuaded by them. The reach of the spendthrift world is wide and its grip is mighty. But it clings to past economic indicators and tries to predict the future based on murky measures of consumer confidence.

We can, and must, live by other measures. As people in the reduced-crap world, we have a new outlook on business. Our business is to act responsibly today in a way that ensures for our own children, and our children's children, a crap-free tomorrow.

For what would we leave our grandchildren: a hundred metal lids from frozen orange juice cans, or a paradise in which to drink a locally produced, culturally appropriate beverage, by which I mean coffee? If we're lucky, and our own parents and grandparents were very lucky, we can do both. They did. And so I can, and do, bless them and their memories every day over my morning cup.

But we live in a different world, and our children and children's children will live in a still different one. For us, the time is now, and everywhere, space is running out. We must make a choice. Let's make the right choice. Let's choose crap-free.

Gotcha: The Roads Not Taken

This week, several candidates from various parties in Canada are learning of the power of search engines and a motivated populace. Their past statements, mis-interpreted or not, taken out of context or not, have come back to haunt them. At least one has been "fired" from her party.

So, is this what the Prime Minister dismissed as "gotcha journalism," and therefore unfair? Or is it simply due diligence on the part of print reporters and bloggers? Shouldn't all public figures be held accountable for previous actions and statements?

Anyone without a youthful indiscretion, go ahead and throw that stone. My own behavior in my late 20s pretty much guaranteed that I wouldn't be spending my life in the public eye--even if I wanted to, and even if the public wanted me to, which were perhaps the larger stumbling blocks. (By the way, though I am sorry for causing pain, I don't necessarily regret what I did [though I wouldn't do it again] or missing out on the roads I was therefore unable to take.)

Further, it should also be possible for people to change their minds without having to play verbal Twister. Remember "I smoked it but I didn't inhale"? (Doesn't one require the other?) Recent semi-famous verbal Twisters include "I was for it before I was against it" and some form of "I based my vote on the lies I was told."

The proper follow-up to both of those statements is a very serious, respectful "WHY?" Why did you change your mind? Why didn't you try to find out the truth yourself? Both are legitimate questions that let the candidate explain the process of critical (or uncritical) thinking. Go ahead, change your mind or vote inconsistently--but be able to explain why. It's entirely possible to mature in outlook, to decide that a course of action obviously isn't successful, or to change your mind because of a personal experience. Just tell us.

And now we're back to the follow-up question, the kind of question that Stephen Harper dismissed as "gotcha journalism"--a double pejorative to him. But follow-up questions--indeed, all questions about actions, platforms, and behavio(u)r--to public figures are legitimate. I'm glad Katie Couric asked Governor Palin how "being able to see Russia" equates to "foreign policy experience." I'm glad the public called Senator Clinton on her "phone call at 3 a.m." ad when she was the one who got to roll over and go back to sleep.

People running for office often claim that they want to get out and hear what the people in their riding or district are saying. They want to be known to their constituents. Fabulous. Whatever. But don't put on a v-necked sweater and expect to be done with it.

To be a public figure, you have to be answerable to the people who loan you their power. We can't all be there, so we let journalists ask you questions on our behalf. And you have to treat us, and our journalist proxies, with respect.

So--go journalists and bloggers. Use those search engines on our behalf.

And the rest of us--if you don't already know this, you should. All conversations, even by email or text messaging, are now public conversations. So behave with the civility public discourse calls for.

Mark Your Calendars

Sunday, September 28, is World Rabies Day. Is it OK if I choose to skip this celebration?

Not to pick nits, but, well, okay, to pick nits. A "Rabies Awareness Day" or a "Rabies Elimination Day" or a "Help Stamp Out Rabies Day--sign me up. But just "Rabies Day"? What kind of celebration is that?

Now that we're all lice-free...

I truly was surprised to hear that one person dies of rabies every ten minutes--55,000 in a year, half of whom are children under the age of 15. (Stats from the site linked above.) It's preventable, it's treatable (though prevention is better), and it affects Asians and Africans in disproportionate numbers. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control confirmed just one human case of rabies in 2007.

Yet another great reason to not keep wild animals as "pets." And to get your own pets vaccinated.

The things you learn from morning television shows.

Is this Fair?

So, I am all ready to vote in the U.S. election. I can't vote in Canada because I am not a citizen. Yet.

Over the weekend, I met a man who was born in the U.S. and has lived in Thunder Bay for 30+ years. He became a dual citizen in the 1990s. He travels on a Canadian passport. This is the first U.S. election he's voting in since he moved here and fortunately, our votes won't cancel each other out.

The thing is, he's also voting in the current Canadian federal election.

I'm not sure how I feel about this. I have imagined I will pursue dual citizenship, now that it's no longer "duel citizenship." (You don't have to renounce U.S. citizenship to become a Canadian.) I have to be resident for 3 years before I can start the process, and I have other paperwork I want to finish up before I take on another project, so I'm not in a huge hurry or anything.

But I still wonder--is it FAIR to vote in elections on both sides of the border, just because it's LEGAL?

I know another dual citizen (U.S/Canadian) who votes in Canada and doesn't vote in the U.S. elections. She says she doesn't have to watch the elections or the ads in the U.S. and doesn't have to deal with the fallout from elections, other than the way the entire world has to deal with the fallout from the U.S. elections.

That seems more fair to me. Vote where you live.

On the other hand, how fair is this: My vote will disappear. Technically, I will vote in Oklahoma. That means the impact of my vote will likely disappear in the Electoral College, since the state will likely go for McCain. (Don't ask me to explain the Electoral College. My father spent significant time after the 2000 and 2004 elections explaining to the League of Women Voters in his hometown the reasoning behind and impact of the Electoral College throughout American history. He loved institutions generally, but even he wasn't completely "sold" on its relevance today.)

But back to me and my vote: is THAT fair? That my vote basically "disappears" because my last U.S. home, technically, was in a state where I was one of about eight Democrats, the remaining seven or so of whom are my relatives?

In this election, it doesn't matter. I'm voting. So there. It probably won't matter in future U.S. elections, either--I'll vote.

Unless I'm a dual citizen and I decide to vote here. Because I'm not really sure about voting on both sides of the border.

On the other hand, we're talking about politics. If politics were fair...I don't really have an ending for that sentence. Well, if politics were fair, the first woman this near the White House (sorry, Geraldine Ferraro, but you didn't have a real shot) would be...um...sane. Or, like, intelligent.

Though it's definitely NOT FAIR to expect women to be MORE qualified to serve than its current--male--incumbent.

And it's also extremely NOT FAIR to allow him to serve as the new yardstick against whom we measure the fitness of future candidates. That's not fair to us--or anyone.

Wrong Question

A new government-sponsored ad is receiving a lot of play these days (although less since the start of the federal election goofiness). It's about education, sponsored by the government of Ontario.

The ad is intended to show that kids are all different and all have a chance of succeeding in Ontario's schools. That part is fine. Here's the text:

THERE ARE THOSE WHO JUMP RIGHT IN.
AND THOSE WHO PREFER TO PONDER.
THERE ARE DOERS, THINKERS, WATCHERS AND READERS.
MATHLETES. ATHLETES. AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.

So far, so good. Then the ad goes off the rails.

SO HOW DO YOU HELP THEM ALL GRADUATE?

Whoa. Wrong question. It's entirely possible that not all of them SHOULD graduate. Have they learned what they need to know at that level of education?

Right question: SO HOW DO YOU HELP THEM ALL LEARN?

You can see the ad itself here.

As with most government-sponsored ads up here, the production is great. The variety of students is pretty good, though they all look cleaner than the kids I see here, as do the school facilities. The ad has a lot going for it. Except its assumption about the purpose of education, of course.

Yes, I know--I've never been in front of a classroom, I'm not a trained teacher, I don't even have kids in school. But we all have a vested interest in education and in what "kids today" learn. (On both sides of the border.) And the point of education is not to graduate--it's to learn, which requires taking risks and making mistakes. We can't fault students for not knowing things (like where Canada is, or how the U.S. electoral process differs from Canada's) if we make them focus on safely getting through, not learning things.

And now that I have improved the management of Ontario's educational system, I'm going to go see if any of my funds hold AIG stock.

Remembrance

I didn't post anything yesterday. Partly, I remained silent to show respect to all who died and lost loved ones in the terrorist attacks in 2001, and partly, it was in tribute to those who die every day from acts of terrorism, in relative obscurity. I was silent in part because I hear no sense in sentences that refer to the "war on terror" or demand that I "support the troops." I hear no sense and have no answer.

But I did something yesterday that I am pleased to talk about today. I requested my ballot for the U.S. federal election. I printed the forms that will allow me to vote if my ballot doesn't arrive in time. I marked my calendar so that I can send my ballot in time for it to be counted.

There is a time for silence and a time to speak. I have remained silent in the past and I will choose silence in the future. But I will speak in this election.

Crapture, Eh?

I've been afraid to say anything about the Canadian installment of The Crapture, or as we will call it, The Crapture, Eh?

Part of my fear is that the final acts of Crapture won't happen before snow flies and we'll be looking at all the stuff under snow all winter and watch it emerge in the Brown Season (aka pre-spring, aka April). However, it's also possible that I will be able to schedule a bin this month.

See, here's the deal. We have structures on this property. One has a new roof, and the old roof had to come off to put that on. Both structures have storage places. The larger structure had a basement. In these storage spaces were large containers full of CRAP. Crap from my grandparents. Crap from the wonderful couple who shared our summers here from about 1970 through the mid-1980s. Crap from my parents.

Crap like this. A plastic bag (stiff and crackling) full of margarine tubs. Dirty torn bedding. Old ice chests. Plastic water containers, broken, with the broken bits in a plastic bag carefully tied to the handle. A billion glass jars (empty, thanks be), some with lids but some without. And (shudder) evidence of mice and squirrels. Brrr.

No more. Now it's all piled next to our woodpile. Well, all except the mouse-infested contents of the work shed back of the bigger house. That's a project for this weekend. It's very satisfying.

But honestly. Look at that pile. No wonder the working title for The Crapture, Eh? was Clampetts in Shuniah.

And if all goes well, I will be able to get a bin out here. Then the last ritual can begin--the winding down of The Crapture. It will feel good.

There's Nothing Like Political Rhetoric

...to make me grouchy. At least today.

I really do have a great life and I am extremely grateful to be able to live where, when, and how I live.

Normally, here are the kinds of things I get grouchy about.

The basket of Ontario peaches I bought Tuesday were a trifle hard, so I set them on the counter, but now they're rotting, not ripening.

I'm chilly in my basement office today, in spite of fleece, and it's just too early in the season to be chilly.

Yeah, woe is me. Boo and hoo.

In August, I got to eat several baskets' worth of fabulous Ontario peaches. The view from my basement office is great and I can always turn on the heater if I get cold. Besides, the weather will likely warm up before it turns cold for good. I mean, life is fabulous.

Except for the politics. Really.

In 2004, I was barely starting to move here and could blissfully ignore most of the U.S. political activity, since my mind was made up and the acrimony of the administration showed that real debate wasn't going to happen. I spent my birthday sick with the flu and got even sicker when it became apparent that I wasn't going to the birthday gift I most desired--a new president. There wasn't an election in Canada at that time. If I'd had a TV, I could have found solace in Canadian Content (a topic for another post someday).

Since then, Canadian provincial and federal elections have come and gone. The Liberals also picked a new leader, in a multi-day theatrical festival. I was interested in these events because I wanted to learn about Canadian politics. And if I hadn't been, I could always have retreated to American Idol and Fear Factor (except, being me, I'd have found a good book instead), because Canada is a non-entity on U.S. television stations. ("Wow, they have elections up there? What's up with that? Our elections aren't good enough for them?")

But now, I'm getting it from both sides of the border at the same time, and I feel trapped.

Stephen Harper is a stand-up guy. (I don't like to think about that.) Stephane Dion is a bumbling Mr. Peepers and the Liberal party is divided about the best way to run this election THAT HASN'T BEEN CALLED YET, PEOPLE. Sarah Palin is an attack dog, showing by her delivery of one ghostwritten speech that she is equal to the task of sitting one heartbeat away from the Oval Office. Barak Obama is only an empty promise. Joe Biden is a has-been. John McCain is a principled maverick.

All of those things might be true. I doubt it, but I don't know. Nobody does, especially those saying things like that. They're guesses, predictions based on limited, surface-scratched images that don't take into account the candidates' previous actions. And actions are where it's at.

As Eliza Doolittle said in My Fair Lady, "Don't talk at all--show me!"

I realize that political advertising is an art form unto itself. It's hard to convey substance. Polls show that people (who, incidentally, lie to pollsters) SAY they vote based on a candidate's image. So selling the image is important. I know this. And sometimes I find it interesting.

But I'm not liking it right now. I have nowhere to escape. Except, of course, being me, I have good books.

Maybe it's not the political rhetoric, really. Maybe I'm really grouchy about the weather, and the peaches.

But I will be glad when November has come and gone. And at least there will be apples between now and then.

Wackiness Ensues

I am, of course, speaking of the political conventions south of 49 and the whole political situation up here.

Down south, we have dueling "God's on my side and let the weather prove it" stories. We also have people in clay shoes, which isn't a problem; we're all human and all that--except that you invite criticism when you run on the "holier than thou" platform.

Up here, we have attention span issues. the Prime Minister claims that the opposition parties won't cooperate, when they have rolled over for him on EVERY SINGLE ISSUE. And he's getting away with this claim. It's very perplexing, especially because "everybody knows" that "nobody wants" an election.

In light of these oh-so-serious events, I would like to discuss something near and dear to all of us: television. Specifically, two TV shows from the U.S.; therefore, everyone can follow along. (Canadian television wouldn't afford us this same luxury. My sister had never heard of Little Mosque on the Prairie before this summer. Nobody I tell about the Maria show can believe it. But that's a different issue.)

First, The West Wing and the whole "Gee, Obama sounds like Matt Santos" (the guy played by Jimmy Smits) thing. I can't give you the source, because I read it in a column by the local TV guy, who said he'd read it somewhere but didn't say where, that the lead West Wing writer saw the 2004 Democratic Convention, looked at Obama, and went, "Hey! What if this relative unknown came outta nowhere to be a contender?"

In the West Wing Universe, Santos ran against an elder statesman/moderate Republican senator, played by Alan Alda. I think Alda is taller than McCain, but the casting was pretty obvious. I won't tell who won but honestly, if you don't know by now, rent the show. Start with Season 1. There's some excellent writing. Have your encyclopedia ready to refresh your memory about Smoot and Hawley.

In a sad case of life imitating art, John Spencer, who played Santos's vice presidential candidate, died of a heart attack partway into the last season. The death was written into the show.

So yes, Obama is much like Matt Santos, with some differences. Obama is a senator, where Santos was a member of the House. Obama is African-American; Santos was Hispanic. Both have small kids. Both are relatively unknown. Both depend on the experience of their running mates to give them credibility in the eyes of the public.

Now for the other TV shows. The Republican convention, before it was hijacked by Gustav, seemed to be paying closer attention to Commander in Chief, a short-lived series from 2005. In this program, Geena Davis played a formerly Independent Congresswoman who was chosen as the running mate of a Republican president, who wins. She finds herself in the Oval Office when the President dies of a cerebral aneurism in office.

So, the similarities: Mackenzie Allen/Sarah Palin? Who's that?

My real point is this: in both shows, important people on the ticket die. I hope Biden and McCain are paying attention. Yes, they've both trotted out living mothers. And I would be the last person to play down the relative vitality of today's 60-somethings--one spent the month of July replacing the roof on our yellow camp.

But I do hope they, and the American public, are paying attention. Honestly. Is Sarah Palin someone you can trust as President? And it's a serious question--we should all be doing some homework. After all, the last relatively unknown governor to become President was...

Yeah, that's why.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled wackiness.

Health By Illness?

In the past couple of weeks, Canadian processed meats and cheeses have been found to contain harmful bacteria--listeria in the meat (shipped from Ontario across the country) and salmonella in the Quebec cheese.

These outbreaks are no run-of-the-mill food poisoning; people have died. The list of affected products continues to grow. More people are paying ever-closer attention, in spite of some "food scare fatigue" following the outbreak in vegetables (jalapenos, as it turned out, not the tomatoes) earlier this summer.

I find it difficult to believe that I have not yet mentioned poutine in this blog, but that is apparently the case. Take a plate of french fries, cover it in beef gravy and cheese curds, et voila! Poutine, AKA heart attack on a plate.

Poutine is considered by some to be an important national food (read how it came to be, and how Bush came to imagine Jean Poutine to be the Canadian Prime Minister, here). Others prefer to give the spotlight to Nanaimo bars (for a photo, look here. You're on your own for recipes, but beware those with anything other than custard as the yummy creamy filling). Still others hold up the Caesar (a Bloody Mary made with Clamato) or the Persian (again, another confection; it's an overly heavy cinnamon bun with pink frosting), which is actually unique to Thunder Bay.

Is this a healthy country? Not so much, though it's no worse than the U.S. or some European countries. And if people stop loading everything with cheese and choose something other than processed meats to put into their bodies...well, it might be a bad time for Quebec poutine, but the healthcare system might appreciate a healthier population.

But it's worrisome. Continue with your regularly scheduled political festivals; we've got other stuff to think about up here.

Power Envy

Election, schmelection.

No, I'm not talking about the one South of 49. We've known this day was coming for what, 200 years? Some people (*cough* Hillary *cough*) have been preparing for it for more than 50 of those years, and more power to her. Others are Johnny-(*cough* Edwards *cough*)-Come-Latelies, and I will resist making several obvious snide remarks. (Setting aside the truly hurtful parts of the situation, and they are legion and the hurt goes deep, can I just ask this: was he not paying attention during the whole Gary Hart/Donna Rice thing?)

No, Prime Minister Harper is trying to whip up some election fever on this side of the border. People of the non-journalistic variety up here seem to be more interested in the positive energy surrounding the Democratic National Convention than in seriously considering elections up here, and Harper isn't having any of it. So he's rattling sabres by ordering around the Governor General--this week he kept her from attending the Paralympics in Beijing on the pretext that she might need to dissolve the government and call an election.

Andrew Coyne, a Macleans politico, in his column this week reminds us all that the Governor General has a some discretion when the Prime Minister says the government is dysfunctional.

My theory about the reason for the sabre-rattling is that Harper knows people here are interested in the U.S. Presidential election and he wants some of that attention. But that's my knee-jerk response to his public persona. The man just rubs me the wrong way.

My husband's theory, which is based in something resembling fact and includes actual information, is that his advisors have said that the economy is going for a poop and in another year, Harper might lose an election.

And I say that losing an election now or a year from now might not be the worst thing for Harper. The campaign to permanently label the opposition leader, Stephane Dion, a buffoon has succeeded beyond anyone's wildest expectations. It's unlikely that Dion as Prime Minister would be able to weather a roller-coaster economy and ongoing casualties in Afghanistan--not so much because he would handle them worse than Harper has, but because nobody would support whatever it was he wanted to do because "everybody knows" he's a buffoon.

Thus, the government would fall quickly and there would be another election, and Harper might just get his majority government, which would be scary. Sort of like a President who doesn't know how to handle natural disasters because none of his friends "believe in" science.

In any case, regardless of Harper's reasons, and regardless of the outcome of an election on either side of the border this fall, leaders in this hemisphere had better be steady, principled, and smart in the coming years. They have full plates, both at home and abroad.

So let's all remember that elections don't signal the end of our responsibility. The people we elect will be acting on our behalf, and we need to hold them accountable for their actions. That's where I hope, and believe, true CHANGE CAN occur. Yes, it CAN, because yes WE CAN.

Last Year at This Time

...there was a wedding. There were devilled eggs and Nanaimo bars, red roses and baby's breath, and families. Happiness.

This year, we celebrated the first anniversaries of all of those. Especially the happiness one.

Stay-cation

I'm not much for trendy bizspeak, but I happen to like this one.

A stay-cation, for those out of the know, is when you stay at home for your vacation. In some ways, my entire life these days is a stay-cation because I live where I used to go for holidays (and serenity, and sanity, and sanctuary). However, I also work while living here. So living here really is different from coming here on vacation.

Now that the bulk of the WORK-work for the summer is finished, it's time for me to have a holiday (to find serenity and sanity in my sanctuary).

I had a bit of a break when my brother and his family were here for a week. Yet the roof wasn't solid, and the grass grew up around the house, and various other projects needed to be done while the weather was fine.

This time, while my sister is here, I'm trying to make it more of an actual holiday. I may be here, as in online; I may not. I will likely check email--likely discover that nobody has really noticed I'm not online much.

But that's where I am. Sitting on the rock/sand beach with a girl drink in my hand. Avoiding work gloves, yellow rubber gloves, bleach, and Mr. Clean. Ignoring the shop-vac and the lawnmower, the loppers and the chainsaw, and my ear protection (fashionably studded with shoe stickers). Noticing the rowboat and canoe and what my mother used to call "life preservers," aka Personal Flotation Devices.

Wish me luck. Knowing me, I'll be up piddling around on projects within a half hour. But a stay-cation: it's a good goal.

Leak-Free At Last, Leak-Free At Last!!

I could also call this "A man, a plan, a credit card, a few trips to Home Depot, a bunch of sweat, a roof."

But truly, I am rejoicing to the point that "hallelujah" blots out all else.

Saving the 80-year-old structure my grandfather built has been wearing on my psyche since I first really understood that the structure was vulnerable. So, somewhere between ten and fifteen years.

During the first five years, I had to learn to take responsibility. I'm still working on it, but I made huge strides during those years. For one thing, I learned to ask hard questions about legal and financial matters (though baby steps, as it turned out). And like that there.

During the middle five years, I had to learn how to do things. Those years were the hardest--actually into the sixth and seventh years, I still despaired. Any project I undertook to make the place feel less forlorn--painting inside or outside, clearing mouse habitations from various places (ick), spraying against ants eating through the roof--were ultimately undone by the leaking roof.

But before anything could be done about the roof--which actually was replaced maybe ten or twelve years ago, but not properly--we had to figure out how to resolve issues with the building's foundations. Thanks to the weight of a piano over the course of fifty years, the entire back section was sinking into the ground. The front sleeping porch was sliding off to the right, and the bathroom was falling off to the left.

However, the world is a different place today. Since the summer of 2004, I have known that eventually this day would come. We have addressed the issues of the foundation (and when I say "we," I mean Roy). The roof is on (also Roy) and new flooring (ditto) is nearly ready to accept the piano, I hope for 50 more years. Now the tasks I undertake, like painting flooring, aren't equivalent to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

Yes, there was more responsibility-taking along the way. Yes, there has been more learning how to do things. But the biggest thing I've learned is that it is possible to find solutions to issues. As a wise woman used to tell me, you always have choices; you may not always like them, but you always have them.

But possibly the biggest lesson I've learned is the true meaning of "labo(u)r of love." And what a gift THAT has been.