Later… There aren’t many occasions that are fun to share with both my mother in Ottawa and my daughter on the far side of town. Both got up early, Anna and her roommate Holly at 5 a.m., Mum at 5.45. Anna said, “This wedding was so special because we all watched Diana’s funeral in the Abbey, we all know about his loss. So the world can celebrate his happiness. He came through. He’s fine.”
And my mother said, “The whole thing made me proud to be British.” And it’s true – what other country in the world could get away with such absurdly anachronistic and yet marvellous and stunningly choreographed pomp and spectacle? A golden carriage drawn by white horses? Uniforms loaded with gold braid? It’s like something from a Peter Seller’s movie, and yet, there were my two closest girlies, up at dawn and weeping.
I haven’t heard a single negative word about it yet.
And more happiness: at the Y I ran into an acquaintance who I know voted for the very right wing Rob Ford in the mayoral election. So today, as a joke, I said, “I guess you’re getting ready for vote for Jack Layton.”
And he said, “I’ve already voted, and I did.”
“Did what?” I gasped.
“I voted for Layton. He has credibility. I’m sick of dishonest politics. I wouldn’t trust those other two guys as far as I could throw them.”
He told me that Ford, too, meant what he said and was honest. I thought, how interesting – he’s not listening so much to what they say, he just wants to know that they actually mean it. That must be a huge part of the NDP surge – because Jack IS straightforward, honest and believable.
The election ain’t over, and the bad news may still hit. But as least it’s a very interesting race.
And now back to squeals on the phone. “The dress was perfect!” “Isn’t he handsome. And so happy!” “TWO kisses. They’re so in love.”
