Any day now, as a matter of fact any moment now, we expect the ‘Call.’ My wife is on pins and I’m on needles (the anticipation kind, not the drug kind) while we wait in expectation.
All the while life goes on as if this call was important to no one except us.
Can you imagine that? Meals are still being served, alcohol and Listerine are still flowing, and drugs are as rampant as ever.
A couple of weeks ago a real sweet lady passed away.
Approximately 150,000 people attended over a period of about 120-plus years, and about 4,000 died while attending in that time.
The government of the day declared that attendance was mandatory; therefore, all means and measures were brutally put into effect to assure none escaped the order of the day.
By now you will know what I am referring to; if you don’t, you don’t know Canada.
Being a naturalized Caucasian Canadian, I have had my moments in learning to appreciate these attendees and their offspring. But in working at the kitchen, I have learned a great amount about this group.
Of all the stories I have heard from different people at the kitchen, the story of the ’60s Scoop tugged at my heart like nothing else ever has.
Decisions made by the government of the day to deal with crises or situations out of their control; or just to exercise control, have not only placed a black mark on this country, but have shown a callousness uncharacteristic of what we have been led to believe our decision makers represented.
The list just goes on and on. Here are just a few:
l The head tax on Chinese immigrants and the refusal to investigate the multitude of deaths of the railroad builders.
“What’s for supper” is the most common sound on a Tuesday while we are preparing it.
“If I told you I’d have to kill you “is my standard response.
With a few chuckles on both sides, they leave and we are once again left to work.
Overall, a fairly standard Tuesday, but something was in the air.
“Nobody wants to play rhythm guitar behind Jesus,
Every body wants to be the lead singer in the band.”
This song put out by a group called The Oak Ridge Boys came to mind this last couple of weeks. Several things have happened that make me realize that these words carry some validity; they’re not just some pretty words in a song. They in fact are a good analogy of the way that we are at times.