Three, count them, three great treats on this bitter winter Saturday. First, my beloved Wayson is back from Vancouver, and we have had two catch-up visits already. But he is in serious writing mode now, under deadline for his next novel. He was also scared as he watched a dear aunt disintegrate with Alzheimer’s and by the too-early, too-fast death of his good friend Paul Quarrington. A man who’s had two near-death experiences, as he likes to point out, lives close to mortality’s edge in any case, but now he’s in a hurry. Got to get those stories out. So though he wants to see several of the same movies I want to see, we won’t go skipping off together, as we used to.
The good news: he’ll keep MY nose to the grindstone, as well as his own.
He drove me downtown to the demonstration – Canadians Against Proroguing had organised rallies across the country this afternoon. I was concerned that the much more vital issue of Haiti had perhaps wiped this event from the map, but there was a very solid turnout – a few thousand, anyway, and a very satisfying march down Yonge Street and back up Bay. People carried signs like “My Canada includes Parliament,” and we chanted. “Hey hey, ho ho, Stephen Harper’s got to go.” Classics like that. “What do you want? Democracy. When do we want it? Now!” Took me right back to the anti-Vietnam rallies of 1967, 8, 9.
There was one chant that bothered me. “The people/united/ will never be/ defeated.” First, it is, unfortunately and sadly, wrong. The people are often defeated, united or no. But second, it doesn’t scan. It should rhyme. I thought they could try “The people/united/will always get excited.” Or “The people/well-treated/will never be/defeated.”
But they didn’t ask me.
Anyway, I love a good demonstration and march. These are my people, I thought today, these brave idealistic souls out in the freezing cold and biting wind. A young woman in a power wheelchair, an elderly couple in homespun clothing who were obviously at Woodstock, a stylish Asian couple with a baby in a stroller, two semi-naked young men with helmets, spears and cloaks, a woman behind them carrying a sign, “Spartans against tyranny.” Though I nearly froze to death, I loved every minute of it.
And then tonight, I got to watch my handsome son and his handsome friends on television. A show called Cash Cab, on Discovery Channel, sends a camera-equipped taxi around Toronto. Random customers are given the chance, while being driven to their destination, to answer questions and win money, on film. Sam, Matt and Joe got into the cab and had the most wonderful time answering. They got every one right. Matt, in the very back seat, got the first few, and Sam said, “He’s a back-seat game-show answerer.” At the end, they had a choice: to leave with $750 or answer one last question and double or lose their money. They took the chance. The question was about an island prison in the U.S. … “Alcatraz!” shouted Sam. “I know it’s Alcatraz.” They yelled and smacked hands when handed their $1300.00, and went off with their arms around each other. Smart, funny, nice, those boys. Did I mention handsome? I knew them when.
