Month: October 2015

On the bus (because my car broke down and I can’t afford the gas anyway) I am dressed as a bank manager, misleadingly slick. Confident! Early forties! Warm! Ethnic! That’s…me. Ethnic light. I am enjoying the multiculturalism around me. Having been raised in the great white plains of Alberta, it never loses its beauty to me. First Nations guy sits in the middle of the bus aisle on his amp with a shiny red electric guitar strapped across his back. Tiny Asian girl squawking out the window, bouncing on her grandmother’s knee. Both of them in violet. I am back…

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Tomorrow my daughter is going to give a speech as Elizabeth May to her class. She’s pored over the Green party’s platform with me and together we’ve broken down things to a grade five level of understanding. What is a pension? Why are old people poor in our country? What is a pipeline? What happens when it bursts? What is a tuition? Why does it cost so much to go to school? Why do some first nations reserves not have clean water? What does refugee mean? She asks me if I’m voting green and as much as I adore pretty…

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Yesterday we went to a beautiful art showing at Beaumont studios. Great Canadiana. I wanted to take half of it home. The artist himself is a hip friendly whipper-wit with great specs and good shoes. He’s got a teenaged son in a cool hot band. He said something along the lines of: there is no such thing as a God given gift, it’s all bloody hard work. On the way home we listened to the boy’s band. Fantastic. The next day both of our kids were on their instruments for hours and hours, practicing. Composing! Ah. So, knowing someone close…

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