Columnists
A tale of half a year
The other day I did a mini inventory of all the bad things that have happened during a year that’s only half over. It’s scary stuff.
The Australian bushfire crisis carried over into the new year and offered us the prospect of an environmental Armageddon. Then Donald Trump just about started World War III with his attack in Iran on an Iranian general. That led to the shooting down of a commercial Ukrainian International Airlines jet, killing 57 Canadians. Two Canadian armed forces aircraft crashed, each one involving loss of life. The worst mass murder in Canadian history happened in tranquil Nova Scotia. We’ve had the impeachment trial of Donald Trump; the blockade of railway lines by protesters showing solidarity with a group of BC Indigenous elders; Brexit (and Sussexit); the Harvey Weinstein conviction; and the Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd and Rayshard Brooks murders and consequent anti-racism protests. Innocent Canadians are still hostages in Chinese jails while the government stands its ground by proceeding with the extradition hearing of Meng Wanzhou.
Oh yes, and there was something on the news the other day about a new coronavirus called COVID-19 which is said to be causing some problems, but I didn’t catch the whole thing.
All in all, I was hoping that the start of the second half of the year, beginning on July 1— today, Canada Day—would lift me out of the doldrums. But it is not to be. There is going to be no parade, no street dance, no fireworks this Canada Day in Wellington. Main Street will still be festooned with Canadian flags, but it won’t be the same.
Canada Day in Wellington is normally a day I look forward to, a day I plan around to make sure I will be in the village. The routine is established: on June 30, catch the street dance and watch the children dancing to tunes their grandparents loved—as well as a few grandparents shedding their inhibitions and trotting out moves that even Chubby Checker would approve of. Then off to see the fireworks—with an endurance battle against the mosquitoes. Then to bed, to be up early July 1 for the pancake breakfast—although I’m usually too excited to get much sleep.
Then clear up and out of the pancake breakfast in time to see the 10:30 parade, at which I have to restrain myself from fighting schoolchildren for the candy handouts. Then off to the used book sale at the library to pick up somebody else’s reading material for a pay-what-you-want price. Then off to church number one for triangular sandwiches and church number two for strawberry shortcake. Then to the park for the official program and the singing of O Canada. Then to check out the various booths and vendors. And then to home to collapse with exhaustion.
And at every turn, people are revved up with goodwill, decked out in red and white and shouting “Happy Canada Day” to all and sundry. They revel in their good fortune to be living in a prosperous and vast country, and to be sharing it in a small town like Wellington. Wellington’s Canada Day trumps Ottawa’s Canada Day every time. Thanks to the Wellington Recreation Committee and its team of volunteers for their efforts in putting on Canada Days past and present.
At least there’s Pumpkinfest to look forward to in October.
And notwithstanding that the second half of the year isn’t getting off to a good start, the silver lining lies in the fact that it’s going to be worth sticking around for the next six months (and maybe a few more) to see how the first half of the year’s problems play themselves out. Will police budgets be defunded, or intervention services be assigned to others? How long will it take us to get the coronavirus under control? Will a guaranteed minimum income be served up, or will the debt level prevent us from doing so? How is the improvement in long-term care homes going to be paid for? Will Donald Trump defy the pollsters and win another election—perhaps with more help from his foreign friends?
I can’t wait to find out.
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