I woke up this morning with an idea for a blog post.
I went through my morning routine, but by the time I got to my PC, the idea was gonzo.
I’m sure it was brilliant though. Life-changing really.
So, I’m just going to wing this.
If I don’t blog for a few days, it feels like I am letting you people down. I imagine you just sitting in front of your computers, crying, drinking and hitting reload/refresh until the clouds part and I post something new.
It reminds me of that day in elementary school when I realized that when I was out sick, school went on without me. People had conversations. Teachers did work.
This was jarring for me.
I’m not kidding.
Yesterday, the incomparable Jazz posted about certain things that she judges potential mates on. One of these things was “the art on your wall.”
I realized that I don’t really have art on my wall.
I have pics of the ACN. (No surprise there.)
I have an autographed photo of Clint Eastwood. (He taught me everything I know about the art of asskickery.)
I have TWO autographed photos of Guy LaFleur. (Most exciting hockey player EVER.)
And I have an autographed photo of former Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau.
Growing up in my family, it would be more surprising if I wasn’t a Trudeau fan.
Let’s take care of the complainers first…
Many Western Canadians aren’t fans.
I can see how you folks wouldn’t want to share your billions of dollars from oil revenue with people in the east so that they could, you know, eat and junk. And it must be upsetting to see all that pesky french writing on government documents and signs. It must irk you that francophones have the right to converse with their government in their own language. Sonsabitches!
And the seperatists…
Meh. I can’t be bothered.
Critics of his economic policies…
Yes, the debt rose. As it did in most western countries at the time.
This post is not about the complainers.
This post is not about the entertaining things Trudeau did:
– Pirouette behind the Queen
– sliding down the banister at Buckingham Palace
– flipping people off
This post is not about the kick-ass things he did:
– “Just watch me.”
– sitting in the stands — without even flinching — while protesters hurled things at him
This is not even about his legacy, really:
– making Canada…. well, Canada
– Charter of Rights and Freedoms
– cultural impact
– gay rights
This post is about hope.
The hope that comes from a leader with a vision.
The hope that comes from a leader that acts, and doesn’t just react.
The hope that comes from being part of a country that can be more, that can achieve more.
And that wants to.
The hope that comes from being part of a nation that makes it a priority to take care of it’s less fortunate.
The hope that comes from being part of a country that leads the world by example.
Not by force.
The hope, and pride, that comes from being part of a country that stayed out of Iraq. (Which was decided by Jean Chretien, who was a minister under Trudeau.)
This post is also about the fact that our current leader doesn’t provide hope.
Though the Liberal leadership convention provided some hope.
Ken Dryden (former teammate of the aforementioned Guy LaFleur) gave a hopeful speech on “My Canada” that reminded me of the great things about being Canadian.
Eventual winner Stephane Dion gave me hope that Canada will be a leader with regards to combating global warming. Even if his charisma didn’t win me over.
This post is also about one of the young newcomers to the Liberal Party that will be looking for a seat under Stephane Dion.
He is Justin Trudeau.
Son of Pierre Trudeau.
He is hope.
This post is about Canada.
This post is about hope.
This post is also about my wall.
Or it was.