Claustrophobia

In October, Delta-which-bought-United-Northwest-whatever will suspend its air service between Thunder Bay and Minneapolis.

The service has apparently been faltering for some time. It's inconvenient, scheduled apparently without regard to matching the schedules of incoming flights, so that connecting from Tucson requires either a multi-hour wait or a sprint. It doesn't fly in bad weather, which I suppose is understandable, but summer flights are always iffy and nerve-wracking. It's not dependable service.

And it's hugely, hugely expensive, relative to the cost of other legs of a flight: $400 easily. Recently, a day's drive to Minneapolis, a night at a motel, and a drive home--repeated--has won out over this crappy service.

And I wonder: aren't most of these complaints about the TB/Mpls route applicable to other routes? The primary difference is that Delta was the only option. And now it's going away.

All of which makes me extremely claustrophobic. I feel trapped here.

It makes no sense. I have chosen not to use the service, so really I shouldn't complain if the service goes away. PLUS not using the service has given me first-hand experience in getting out of this country. (I drove across! Both ways! Twice! In the past two weeks!!) AND it's not like the Thunder Bay airport is shutting down. I can always get to Toronto!

Not only that, but I'm here in this country by choice. I really really WANT to be here. And I have a difficult time leaving, even to go on vacation.

But then, that's why they call it a "phobia": the fear has no basis in logic. Mentally, I'm standing under a transparent bubble at the airport, pounding on it: "Let me ouuuuuuut! Let me ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut!"

So much for what "they" say: that Canadians have stronger ties to their U.S. neighbours than to other Canadians. Try flying to Minneapolis from Thunder Bay.

Because I'm curious, I did some research. Minneapolis, you recall, is a city as close or closer to me than Winnipeg. Yet to get to Mpls from TB, I'd have to fly to Toronto (or Winnipeg AND Chicago). One of my favourite return routes would take me from Minneapolis through Houston (that's Texas, y'all) and THEN Toronto before bringing me back here.

Lest you think that "flying to Toronto" from here is equivalent, say, to flying to Phoenix from Tucson (a half-hour journey): The TB-Toronto flight is 1:42, 900km. As a drive, it's 18 hours or so (allowing for summertime construction). And all the connections were more than $500.

So, let's review: I'd be flying to a city easily twice as far away as Minneapolis to get, eventually, to Minneapolis. Possibly through scenic Houston, another 2000 km out of the way. Time elapsed: 3 hours Toronto/Houston, 3 more hours Houston/Minneapolis. Plus the 1:42. Add in connection times and an hour for time zone change: 12 hours.

Driving. That's the answer, as it is so often, when one doesn't have the luxury of staying here. Argh.

P.S. Because I know that Minneapolis is not often the final destination, I also checked into a flight to Tucson. There are no 1-stop routes. I can fly Toronto/Denver/Tucson, home Denver/Edmonton/Tucson. Other routes include stops in Phoenix or LA. Touring the U.S. through its airports: now there's a reason to visit my sister.

P.P.S. Yes, I should appreciate the miracle of flight. That it's possible at all. Et cetera. And I do. But I'm human, and we don't respond well when options are taken from us.

What I Mean to Say Is

I know I've written about the Governor-General and the Queen before last Saturday.

What I don't seem to be able to "get over, already!" relates more to what I was talking about last Saturday.

People in Canada walk around internally okay with someone they didn't elect (or at least have the opportunity to vote against) representing them internationally as their head of state. They're OKAY WITH IT. It's status quo. Normal. NORMAL.

Not that they generally think about that kind of thing. Americans don't, either. But if you scratch the surface of your average American, she or he would say, quickly, that we-all want our official representatives to be elected. (Insert offhand reference to W's first term here.) It's the default assumption: we may not vote, we may not believe that our vote matters, but hey, we believe in the concept of voting. (Also Botox and gun ownership.) (Not me, so much, about either of those.)

Anyway. That's what I mean when I say that the default settings in each country are different, and the default settings of Americans are more familiar to me than those of Canadians.

All of which are the kinds of ideas and questions one ponders at times like these:

and these:

Ahhhhh.

East or West...Up or Down...Where am I, Again?

In an interview on a podcast that I swear I heard but can't find now, Native American writer and storyteller Sherman Alexie said that people who travel between two cultures eventually end up at home in neither one.

I will likely write more about that idea, especially when I run across that darn podcast again. And no, I have not read any of Sherman Alexie's work, because I am at heart an intellectual lightweight. Although my stack of "to be read" impresses even me.

After two trips into the U.S. in the past two weeks, and some touring around amongst Americans, I recognize what he means.

Sometimes it feels easier to be in the U.S. It's not that I understand "the people" or "the culture" better. I have a long history of feeling out of place in the U.S. However, I think I share some of their mental default settings (probably also their mental defects, but that's another issue).

Here's an example. When politicians do something boneheaded in the U.S., well, some cadre of morons somewhere elected that bonehead and perhaps his or her days in office will be numbered.

But Canadians have a queen. A local stand-in (the Governor General) represents Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in matters of state. I'm not completely sure what this means except that the GG has a literary award and she walks up and down rows of uniformed soldiers. (The GG has been female since I've lived in Canada, but we're due for a new guy in the fall.) In terms of actual matters of state, the Prime Minister, Parliament, and civil servants still seem to do the war-declaring and ongoing allocation of soldiers.

The GG is appointed by the Prime Minster, and thus We the People of Canada have little to no say in who it is. The person in this office has some kind of responsibility that used to be exercised by the Queen, whose claim to office is...being born.

Nothing against Her Majesty, of course. Just that my mental default is that people in positions of power are elected. Or they are celebrities, and thus are essentially unexplainable fireworks that will eventually fizzle out.

So where is home? Canada. But where do I fit culturally? Hmmm.

What is This Thing Called "Vacation"?

Still not sure. But I'm on one. At home. People are here. More people are coming in a month. Hard to say "no" to someone whose roots here are deeper than my own.

Meanwhile, I'm experiencing border crossings in the car again. Expect a report when vacation, whatever that might be, is over.

Between now and the next raft of company.

Re-Framing

Re-framing as in the psychological tool that helps you see things differently. Instead of the glass being half empty, you re-frame it to see that you have a glass and it has stuff in it. Like that.

It's really great. I love re-framing. Handy especially since my problems tend to be problems of privilege. That is, I have a great life but some part of my fabulously great life isn't perfect. Then I get to remember that what I see as a terrible, awful, horrible problem...isn't.

Yesterday I felt a little freaky on account of the well. I thought the rain in June, which was nearly normal, hadn't been enough to keep us in water until the really dry season hits. The summer's visitors haven't begun to arrive yet. I foresaw only gloom and doom.

I switched mindset into "I'll take laundry into town" and "I'll investigate the shower at the gym" and "We'll use more town water." I couldn't re-frame it to make it a positive situation, although to my credit, I did think that we probably had more than a pail full of water available every day, not to mention an entire lake in front of us, which beats the situation for millions of people in Africa.

As it turned out, however, the problem wasn't with the water level. It was with the pump. We'd had a power surge late on Wednesday. It apparently fried the pump. A couple of phone calls and a trip to town (not by me), some muttering (I helped with that part), and hey presto! We have a working pump. The cistern has refilled. I'm washing sheets at home.

So I didn't have to re-frame. And now I get to switch my mindset back. But once again I am newly grateful for this life.

The Lake Giveth...

Stuff like this, which showed up last Sunday morning.
It's still there, in case its rightful owners come by.

Of course, the downside is that the lake also taketh away.
We haven't lost anything recently, except for about six inches of the lake herself.

Except that also the well is now apparently dry. Bone dry.

So dry that there's not even a trickle for the cistern.

It's awfully early in the season for that.

But if I weren't worried about water, I wouldn't feel right,

so perhaps that's a gift of a different kind.

Plus we do get mornings like this.

Not a bad gift.

The lake giveth far more than we can ever give back, I think.

Food for Patriotic Thought

Temporarily suspending my Monday tradition (since March, anyway) of posting Today's pictures here. Instead, here's a thought or two for my friends on both sides of this border.

Canadians: Peace, order, and good government? Yep. I love the fact that I have access to healthcare here. I love that I can choose the most appropriate medical care for my unique situation, without limits. Why does this country not extend this right to the women in countries to whom it gives aid? The maternal health bill presented at the G20 summit does not allow women in countries WHERE ABORTION IS LEGAL to receive abortions if the organization providing it receives Canadian aid dollars. Maternal health initiatives should cover a full range of maternal health options. Good policy? No. Good government? No.

Americans: Liberty and justice for all? Well, almost all. For all who aren't gay or lesbian and want to commit to a relationship, that is. If you're gay or lesbian, you can't enjoy the same legal and human rights and responsibilities as the non-gay non-lesbian population. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be told that you are not fully human, that the self-evident truths people wave flags about and get misty-eyed over and shoot fireworks about AND GET KILLED FOR don't apply to YOU. I cannot imagine what people demonstrating against marriage rights will tell their grandchildren--what they tell their children and grandchildren now, some percentage of whom are gay or lesbian. I mean, I know what they say; you can read it far too many places. I just can't belive that they say it.

And so, to paraphrase Shakespeare: if we are poisoned, do we not die? And if you poison these people, do they not die? And if they die, do we not die a little, also?

Come on. Every woman, not just the women in Canada, is entitled to all the healthcare that's legal in her country, and Canada should be helping her fight to be sure she gets it, not holding her back. And about that right to marry--can we please just let every adult (yes, even the stupid prejudiced ones) get married?

Why are we even having these fights? In both countries, we need to move on. We are playing Russian Roulette with oil and drilling and the environment (and in this Canada with these gun laws, that's some feat, let me tell you), but until we (in both countries) love our neighbo(u)rs, both those next door and those on other continents, we will be spiteful and distracted and unable to focus on solutions. So put away the flags and facepaint. Start improving the world instead of bragging about it.

Okay, putting soapbox away now. Pictures will resume soonish.

Likes and Dislikes, Edited in Red (Happy Canada Day)

Like: Turning the page on the calendar over to the new month. Dislike: The alarming frequency with which I am doing it. Dislike #2: Realizing later that what I mean is rapidity, more than frequency, though frequency is no picnic either. Still, either is better than not turning pages at all.

Like: Pageantry, ritual, pomp, and ceremony. Dislike: Smug unthinking patriotism. It's a tough time of year for one as suspicious as I am.

Like: Writing and playing, paying bills and contributing to the greater social fabric. Dislike: Deadlines and having enough mental capacity to give only to them, not to share with the rest of the possible ways to write and play.

Like: Working when everyone else is on holiday. I get a lot done. Dislike: Working when everyone else is on holiday. I feel I should be more fun. But hey, I like it.