The Warning Shot

  You can already picture it. Just like the now-grainy footage of John F. Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas, the image of Donald Trump cupping a hand over his ear before he drops to the ground, only to rise again pumping his fist and mouthing ‘fight, fight, fight’ to the crowd will be as embedded in American folklore forever. Of course, there are many differences between these two events. JFK was a largely beloved sitting President. Trump is a divisive former President, running again for office, carrying a litany of criminal charges and even convictions. JFK died instantly. Trump suffered a minor flesh wound and was able to stand back up and incite the crowd within seconds.

    Had there been Twitter in 1963, JFK wasn’t going to be able to post any updates. Indeed, the First Lady Jackie Kennedy wouldn’t have, either. Today, Trump has his own social network on which he can keep his followers up to date instantaneously—and he did. In an unusually measured and grammatically average post, he indicated that he’d been shot, felt the whizzing of the bullet and the piercing of his ear, and assured everyone he was okay. He capped it off with a signature Trump all-uppercase “GOD BLESS AMERICA!” Because that’s what American politicians have to say. It’s like saying “Amen” after a prayer. And make no mistake—Trump delivers his messages as though they were sermons, and his congregation accepts them all as though they were edicts from the Pope.

    No one should be shocked that this happened. Trump himself stated in one of his sermons that it was incredible this could happen in the US. That statement alone begs the question as to whether he is mentally fit for office. The US has a deep history of violence from its very inception by revolution, through four successful presidential assassinations. That’s right—four. Kennedy and Lincoln are the best-known, but James Garfield and William McKinley met their own violent ends while in office. Teddy Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan both narrowly missed being assassinated. Countless public officials have faced violence, from Gabby Giffords being shot in the head at a rally to Paul Pelosi being mauled with a hammer in his own home. I didn’t even mention the Civil War, southern lynchings, race riots, or the now-daily mass shootings. Statistics about gun ownership in the US, and the high rate of gun-related death compared to literally the rest of the world are easy to find and quite clear, despite a pushback from the right wing to explain it all away in the name of the 2nd Amendment.

    America, you have a gun problem, and you have neither the ability nor the wherewithal to stop it.

    So, when an attempt is made on Trump’s life, who can honestly be surprised? The big surprise here is that he actually survived. The shot was only a few inches from his brain, and Trump supporters may not believe it, but he wouldn’t have stood up from that. There would not have been any fists pumping in the air, no rallying chants of “USA! USA!” from the masses. A man as human as all of us would have been crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood, just like the spectator behind him who wasn’t so lucky.

    And now, the real controversy...

    This shot wasn’t a tragedy nor a moment of strength. It was a warning.

   I am amazed that this is only the first time Donald Trump came so close to being shot to death. To be completely honest, I’m still surprised Barack Obama is still alive—I honestly didn’t think he would survive his first term given the vitriol that was and continues to be showered on him. George W. Bush and Bill Clinton? They’re both too wishy-washy to really be assassination candidates. I mean, really. Plenty of people had good reason to dislike each of them, but were they so malignant to their opponents that someone would want to kill them? At the end of the day, you couldn’t take either Clinton or Bush too seriously. But polarizing figures draw polarizing reactions.

    Yes, consider this shooting a warning of what’s to come. There are two scenarios: First, if Joe Biden stays in the race and wins a second term, that rabid Trump base will lose their collective minds, and rather than another January 6th kind of limp attempt to overthrow the results, you can expect lots of smaller incidents like this. Disgruntled Trumpers with nothing left to win or lose will make irrational decisions and given the proliferation of available guns, lash out at anyone they deem responsible for the ruining of their dream. It’s a scary possibility. Think of the Rwandan genocide. Half the population owned a machete. When the time was right, they used them to attack their neighbours, to the tune of almost a million killed in about two months. If even 0.1% of all guns currently in the US (estimated at around 394 million) are then used for retribution, you would have 394,000 potential incidents, assuming each one shot only one round. Is it so hard to believe?

    Second, if Trump wins the election, expect a Republican Party hellbent on revenge. Expect pardoning to all January 6th terrorists. Expect a purging of anyone left of center from public office. Expect mass deportation. And yes, I’m saying it, expect political assassination sanctioned by the President. He’s already convinced the Supreme Court to bestow on him that power. I am expecting someone in the GOP will declare that Joe Biden had SEAL Team 6 attempt to kill him, which is somewhat ironic (let alone potentially legal).

    Whatever the motives of the shooter, trying to kill Donald Trump was a stupid decision. High-ranking Republicans, only hours removed from the shooting, are already promising retaliation, proposing that the Democrats are to blame, and using it as a rallying cry. It’s disgusting. Gun violence in the US is innate to American culture. They may claim they don’t like it, but they do nothing as a nation to prevent it. As a result, we get meaningless thoughts and prayers, false sympathy, and a whole lot of stars-and-stripes rhetoric. In the coming days and weeks, we will see further evidence of Trump’s motives. He will double down in his sermons and his believers will fill the collection plate. He is a cult of personality who very nearly became a martyr.

   One day, history will show us what happened on Saturday, July 13th in Butler, Pennsylvania. But how it is framed remains to be seen. The footage will have deteriorated just like the Kennedy footage, and even how 9/11 clips are starting to age only a generation removed. Whether this was an aberration or a monumental shift in America’s (d)evolution remains to be seen.

Calm the F*ck Down

 I miss my grandfather dearly, but in no way would I want him to be here today in the era of social media. Forced into early retirement due to a litany of health problems, he spent most of his days in his rocking chair looking out the big picture window facing the highway. It gave him lots to complain about. The snowplow was going too fast. Traffic was going too fast. Even in the mid-80s, the world was just going too fast for him.

He was no stranger to the RCMP. So often he would call in complaints that they would stop by his house on courtesy calls. It was nice of them to do that, really. My grandfather’s gripes weren’t entirely off-base. But sometimes, someone only needed to listen, assure him they were doing their best, and usually it was enough to pacify. It might not prevent letters to the editor in the local paper, but it did apply some pressure to a trickling surface ego wound.

My grandfather was not a formally educated man, but he was a smart man, maybe one of the smartest I’ve ever known. As an adult, two decades since his passing, I still remember his wisdom, which made a more lasting impact than those off-the-cuff, absurd observations he would posit from time to time. He once said that heavy metal music was a communist plot, in that they would make everyone deaf so we wouldn’t hear them coming. It’s a hilarious notion. But beyond the silliness, there is a troubling undercurrent that my grandfather and others like him in his day were in fact too deaf to hear. And it persists today a hundred-fold via social media.

We’ll get to that a little later.

Recently I received a Facebook invitation to join a group that posts local news incidents and stories. SCANNER Freddy Beach is an online group with thousands of followers who are invited to post information that’s unfolding in real time in the community. The group name refers to the old practice of listening to a police scanner when you were being nosy and wanted to know what was going on before anyone officially told you. I’m not going to apologize for that—it’s being nosy. My grandfather had a scanner, and it fueled a lot of his ranting. New age, new medium, same nosiness.

The SCANNER page shares posts of everything from accidents and fire to traffic jams and thefts. The moderators of the page appear to be very well-intentioned and have strict rules about page etiquette, which is at least an effort to be, or appear to be responsible. Generally, false stories are not allowed, and participants must maintain respectful tones, which I would expect from a public forum.

Over the last few days, I have seen several posts about one particular incident. According to the post, young women have been approaching people in parking lots outside busy shopping areas—Costco, Walmart, Superstore, for example. They offer white roses to people, almost always “attractive” women, according to the post. From there, the details vary. Some claim that the women are trying to raise money to support their own children. Some claim that they offer a rose, then demand $10 or $15. There may be someone in a car watching the whole transaction, and they’re scouting for women to abduct. The same women, or same type of women are spotted in other cities—some even as far away as out west. Some claim the police are afraid of them. Or maybe they’re indifferent, or their hands are tied because they haven’t actually committed any crimes. Some claim that the flowers are laced with drugs—either fentanyl, which we all know can kill you, or some sedative to knock you out so they can presumably stuff you into a sack and ship you overseas. Why overseas? Because the women with the roses are women from overseas. You know, immigrants.

That’s a lot to unpack from a series of Facebook comment threads, let alone the poor grammar and misspellings that naturally follow.

I usually just read a few comments and scroll on, because most of the posts are either none of my business or don’t mean anything. There’s a fire in a neighbourhood in Fredericton? That’s unfortunate, and I hope everyone is okay. But if it were me dealing with a house fire, I would be embarrassed that complete strangers were gossiping about me. I’m sure they already do.

Now, I’m no stranger to Facebook arguing. I have always believed that we all have the responsibility to confront people who are rude, lying, or insulting. Otherwise, they continue to believe that these behaviours will be tolerated, and worse, that they’re justified. So, if someone I know says something that is patently false online, I feel that I have the right to correct them—especially if the false claim could go on to hurt or mislead people. That’s why I was unapologetic in my defense online of vaccinations during the pandemic. I do not now, nor ever apologize for calling out people for taking an anti-vaxx stance. I digress; this is a separate topic, but I wanted to establish context as to why I even bothered chiming in.

My comment, to paraphrase, was as follows: If you’re worried about these people handing out flowers, all you have to do is say “No, thank you,” and walk away. Because, for as many terrifying reasons we can imagine, no one actually thought that maybe they were victims themselves. When you’re down on your luck, you’ll forego your pride if it means eating supper tonight. No squeegee kid or panhandler wants to beg—it’s humiliating. While there is no telling why these women are handing out flowers, there is just as much a possibility that they are not in some nefarious human trafficking ring.

Maybe they’re just poor.

I know, roses aren’t cheap, and people have also spotted the women getting in and out of nice cars. Like I said in the beginning, it’s none of my business. And none of yours, either. That changes if you engage with them and fall for a scam—but just like a telemarketer or a Nigerian prince, it’s on you to just say no. If enough people did, there would be less market for scam artists in the first place.

Last year, there was an alarming rise in awareness of human trafficking. It seemed to happen overnight—the news was somehow neglecting the very real threat that our children were being abducted and sold, and this all eventually led to the real reason it became a hot topic. It was a distraction story during the pandemic. The government’s priorities were all wrong. They were more concerned about curtailing your rights than the children. Any reasonable-minded person would surely understand that the safety of our kids is way more important than whether I wore a mask. Right? What followed, of course, was no action from those same concerned citizens. Once the hot topic had simmered, life went on.

SCANNER is perpetuating this distortion of reality. What people are doing when they post rumours in a public forum is assuming that they can deliver news as good as, if not better than the media. Journalism is a trade. It takes years to learn, and a lot of work to do well. It involves investigation, gathering facts, and interviewing persons involved. It requires strong language skills, and even stronger people skills. When someone introduces the term “mainstream media” to an argument, I immediately shut it down, because to accuse the free press of being inherently deceitful is disrespectful to a respectable and vital profession.

Those same people who discredit the news would sooner read their information from Facebook threads, or Twitter feeds, or YouTube channels, or Joe Rogan-esque podcasts. Where are the sources who can confirm that the rose-ladies are con artists? In SCANNER, it’s irrelevant. The whole point is to alert the reader that something fishy is going on—and this is the real problem—that the default answer is the worst possible scenario. “It could happen to you.” “It doesn’t just happen elsewhere, it happens right here at home.” “Distrust anything that you don’t understand.” Just when it looked like there would be some healthy and courteous discussion, the moderator turned off comments. This tells me that on SCANNER Freddy Beach, clarification of the story or fact-checking is not wanted.

And that is why SCANNER Freddy Beach and other pages like it are a problem. In less than three hours, no less than ten of my own Facebook friends shared the same article. And the response is almost always that default to the worst—those women are criminals, and therefore beneath us. Not once have I seen someone offer any sort of empathy. Anyone forced to forego their own dignity in public deserves some level of compassion, don’t you think? I wonder if the person passing out flowers were a veteran if they would receive the same scorn. Or if they had a dog. Or if they just “looked Canadian”.

You can post anything you like on Facebook. For me, I’ll either ignore it or interact with it if I feel it’s appropriate for me to do so. But when you do, all I would ask is that you take the extra few seconds before clicking “send” to ask yourself why you’re posting it. Have you fact-checked what you’re saying, or just assuming? And ask yourself why you feel the need to be a social justice warrior, and if you’re prepared to actually do something to back it up.

Otherwise, calm the fuck down. The RCMP don’t have time to come to your house to do it for you.

Ten Demands: An Open Letter

 

Greetings, 

I am writing this open letter to express my embarrassment of the atrocities committed by the Canadian government and all stakeholders of the residential school system. Further, I am astonished that all governments, including the current one, have been slow at best responding to the testimony of survivors, both before and since the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. None of this information is new. We have known about the abuses for decades. Still, most Canadians are still shocked in the wake of the discovery of remains near the Kamloops facility. This is unacceptable.

I am a high school teacher in Stanley, New Brunswick. I teach Social Studies to several age groups. When I learned how little I was aware of the scope of the genocide, I was ashamed as an educator. We owe it to our youth to teach them the uncomfortable truths of our country’s history. For my part, I have pledged to educate myself so I can do better, and I hear the same from many of my colleagues and friends. All Canadians have a responsibility to pay closer attention and demand results from our elected officials. I am beginning my own role in the process by writing this letter. 

The response from the government of Canada to the discovery of the human remains has been slow and soft. Families have been missing loved ones for generations. The covering up or ignoring of missing persons is indefensible. There is irrefutable evidence from both survivors’ testimony and primary sources from the architects of the system. I, along with many Canadians, am tired of platitudes, doe-eyed apologies, and empty promises. I am calling for the following to happen immediately:

 

1)     All people must stop calling these institutions “residential schools.” As an educator, I am offended that the word ‘school’ is associated in any way with them. They were concentration camps.

2)     All religious organizations that refuse to acknowledge their culpability and apologize formally for their role must be held to account. Perhaps they should begin to pay taxes, like the businesses they truly are.

3)     All individuals who are namesakes of universities, schools, parks, or any other public institution, who have proven complicity in the implementation of the residential concentration camps are to be removed immediately. Statues of these people are to be removed without delay. Honourary naming and erecting statues are acts of veneration. We can study about their historicity without praising them publicly.

4)     All recommendations from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission must be implemented immediately.

5)     All First Nations communities in Canada, regardless of remoteness and cost, must receive clean drinking water, and the means to perpetually source it. Any government that claims they wish to foster reconciliation yet does nothing to provide basic clean water is duplicitous.

6)     Orange Shirt Day must be declared as a statutory holiday. Businesses and schools must be closed to observe it. Otherwise, it can be postponed out of inconvenience—and indeed, this has happened in some schools.

7)     Remove from circulation immediately the $10 bills that have John A. Macdonald’s face. Continue by committing to remove the faces of all prime ministers from their respective bills who looked the other way while residential concentration camps were allowed to operate. Having their likenesses on our currency is akin to blood money.

8)     The government must release all budgeted money for reconciliation so communities can conduct forensic investigations of the rest of the concentration camp grounds, identify remains, and return with dignity the remains to their loved ones. If money was budgeted two years ago, there is no excuse for why it hasn’t been released prior to now.

9)     All future budgeting for truth and reconciliation must include a comprehensive plan to provide as much as possible toward mental health, addiction, and trauma recovery services. No one wants hush money thrown at them. We have proven during COVID-19 that if the will is there, money can be found. There are no excuses now.

10)  All parties in government must collaborate to create a bill which makes residential concentration camp denial or defense of them declared hate speech. Any public official who speaks this way must be removed without hesitation, as they are unfit for office.

 

These are ten reasonable goals, presented as demands because to do any less is to insult the memory of those who died, who were abused, and their loved ones. No one alive today created the residential concentration camp system. But all of us alive today must ensure that reparations be made, dignity is restored, and healing can truly begin. I implore you to speak up, act now, and affect change in whichever way is appropriate to your position or station. Please accept my invitation to respond with your thoughts and your plans to take part in this difficult process.

 

Respectfully,

 

Brandon LeBlanc

 

Corona-Pocalypse '20

In what has become the greatest meme generating headline after Donald Trump’s presidency and Justin Trudeau in blackface, the COVID-19 coronavirus has captured our collective imaginations like little else. Always a repository for the uneducated, social media is rife with all manners of fear-mongering, false information, mass hysteria, and public scorn stronger than flat-earth advocacy and liberal-bashing. If Trumpism divided us, Corona-Pocalypse ‘20 appears to have us all headed for the loony bin.

This is a very heavily-layered issue. So, for something a little different, I thought I would try a sort of ‘call and response’ style for this piece.  Except I will be doing all the calling and responding.  Like a ‘frequently asked questions’ column, which the government of New Brunswick has now issued, I will lob some commonly bantered slogans or statements, and respond to them accordingly. I have no intention of doing a research thesis for this, but I will do my best to stick to accepted facts, or at least facts accepted by people trying their best to be impartial and open-minded.

Call #1:

The common cold kills hundreds/thousands/millions of people every year.

Response #1:

Okay, let’s discuss.  What is the ‘common cold’? It’s a virus, much like the flu (that’s short for influenza), and shares similar symptoms, except that they are usually less severe and subside more quickly.  I’m sure people die from the cold, but according to the CDC, it poses minimal risk of death. You would need a significantly compromised immune system for this to be a real worry. COVID-19 is not a cold, and it is not even influenza. It is more in line with pneumonia, with which it is most often compared. Comparing the two is apples and oranges.

Call#2:

I’m not old and I’m not medically vulnerable or fragile, so I’ll be okay.

Response #2:

Good for you. It is disheartening to know so many people choose not to think beyond their own health. I can’t help but imagine these are the same people who leave their garbage in the food court for the cleaners to pick up after them, throw their Budweiser cans out the window while out for a rip, or steal from tip cups.  If you fit this description, you should learn about how people carry viruses, even if the virus doesn’t actually make the carrier sick. You may be playing hot potato with diseases, and you might even luck out on unloading it before the music stops. But you are eventually passing it on to someone, and ‘better them than me’ is so much worse than being selfish.

This is all very much the same as the argument against anti-vaxxers, who also fall in the above category of ignorance. Just because you either don’t understand it, choose not to accept it, or flat out don’t care, you’re actually endangering all of us. And as a result, it is indeed my business.

As I said earlier, I’m not here to conduct a symposium on the nature of viruses. I just don’t buy any excuses at this point in history.  We once lived in a time when sneezing meant you were casting off demons (hence ‘bless you’). Or that there were only four elements—air, fire, earth and water. Or that the world is flat. All of these are scientifically, categorically, and unequivocally false. Opinion can’t be used here, no more than it is not an opinion that two plus two is five. Viruses happen, the inoculated will pass them on, and vaccinations work. But before it even gets to that point, due diligence in personal hygiene will slow that down significantly.

Call #3:

It’s just a matter of time, why shut down our social order when it’s pointless?

Response #3:

Ah, the good ole ‘why make my bed when I’m just going to get back in it again’ argument. The flaw here, of course, is that not making your bed will not make me sick, unless I’m sharing it with you—and most likely I’m not.  A more apt comparison would be staring at what feels like an insurmountable mess in your garage. You could look at it and say ‘what’s the use?’  Or, you could focus on one feasible part of the chore—say, cleaning your workbench, or taking your redemptions to the depot.  There may yet be lots of mess, but you’re one step closer to your goal. Now, say there are five people in your family, and each one takes on one job. Eventually, you have a cleaner garage, and one day it may even be completely clean.

 

So hard to believe?  Well, diseases have been eradicated using this same philosophy. You won’t manage to vaccinate everyone, but if more and more people follow better hygiene and take precautions available to protect themselves, eventually the disease will disappear.  It has happened to smallpox and polio. When was the last time you had diphtheria? Again, this is fact. No one prayed it away.

So is it worth it to disrupt the economy in the interest of trying to contain this virus? Since it is not expected that a vaccine will be available before spring 2021, the best option we have is to slow it down as best we can.  It will be inconvenient. Dying is also inconvenient. Which leads me to…

Call #4:

You’re being over-dramatic… you’re fear-mongering… you’re paranoid…

Response #4:

Am I? Since January 1, 2020, in less than three months, according to the World Health Organization on March 8 (three days before I wrote this), there were about 106,000 confirmed cases of COVID-19 and nearly 3600 deaths, over 101 countries (out of 195).  A western, first-world country like Italy, with around double Canada’s population and every bit as strong an economy and infrastructure is on complete lockdown. And the scary part is how fast it happened. The first cases were confirmed on January 30. Six weeks later, and over 12,000 confirmed later, the entire nation is shut down.  Talk about your inconvenience. It’s worth mentioning that Vatican City is a sovereign nation within the city of Rome, and even they have a confirmed case.  Someone keep an eye on Pope Francis. He’s not exactly a spring chicken.

What’s more, Italy is considered the country of origin for outbreaks in at least twenty-four other countries. Keep in mind Italy is a G7 country. Only a few weeks ago a New Brunswick school went forward with a planned trip to Italy, before any policies were developed or implemented. Imagine how many thousands of Maritimers have been down south, overseas, or in close contact with people who have.   Today, New Brunswick has confirmed its first case. It is here. It is not paranoia. I wonder, how close does it have to hit home before it becomes a credible threat? It was easy to dismiss when it was still in China, literally the other side of the world. But that was a few months ago.

Call #5:

Turn off the media and use common sense. Wash your hands!

Response #5:

We can agree on the hands thing. I saw a one-panel comic recently that showed an alarm going off when some guy comes out of the washroom without washing his hands and everybody stares up at him. If only it were that easy!

Many people over the last few years have expressed to me that social media and the news are cesspools of negativity. And negativity breeds more negativity. No one likes a Negative Nilly.

While that may be so, denying actual world events is going to cause infinitesimally more harm. Look, the news is depressing. The fact is, news is primarily things that are out of the ordinary. No one needs to know about how many old ladies were helped across the street, who adopted a puppy from the SPCA, and who celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary. These are the little victories that happen to us all the time, and they are celebrated accordingly, usually within a small circle or community, and are no less important—just not newsworthy to the masses. Where we fall short is that we forget about all these things that fall in the shadow of the much less common bad things that happen, and tend to affect more people. I have always believed we have a civic duty to be aware of regional, national, and international news. If we choose to plug our ears with our fingers and sing loudly out of key, we are essentially absconding responsibility. It’s easier to just close the garage doors and concede that you’ll be parking outside from now on.  You can do that if you like, but don’t complain to me when you’re scraping a foot of ice off your windshield.

There is a happy medium. You can watch the news, interact on social media and discuss world issues without being a Debbie Downer. It is still possible to be polite in the face of so much ignorance. You may not convince anyone of anything, and maybe you don’t have to. But to bury your head in the sand is taking the easy way out. We have fundamental freedom of expression. To abuse it is wrong, but to abstain from it is equally harmful.

There are plenty of other calls to which I could respond, but some are just not worth the time. Any that involve the terms ‘libtard’ or ‘snowflake’ need not even be acknowledged. Trolls are gonna troll.  When all is said and done, a very substantial percentage of the world’s population will be either infected or affected with what experts are rightly saying is one of the most serious threats to public health in memory. It is not hyperbole if the facts are backing it up. And they are.

You can believe what you like. I’m just offering a wedge of lime for your Corona. 

One Cherry Pickin' Minute

I wasn’t watching the live broadcast of Hockey Night in Canada. The next morning, the story was dominating the headlines, and when I listened to the clip and began to disseminate the fallout, my immediate thought was that what he was saying was certainly controversial, like so many comments he has ranted and raved over the decades. But this time, it felt like there would be more consequence to his statement.  And when twenty-four hours passed, and an apology from the network, from the sponsors, and from his co-host came, while he remained steadfast in his silence, it became distinctly possible that he was going to lose his job.

I was literally in the middle of answering a comment on Facebook about it when the news dropped, and I would be lying if I said my jaw hadn’t.  It never occurred to me that he would end his career like this, even with countless reasons to suspect that it could.  And there it was.

Don Cherry was fired.

It usually doesn’t serve to categorize how people process things like this.  It would be kind of ironic in this case, really. But suffice to say, people are taking a ‘for’ or an ‘against’ stance in this issue, very much mirroring the left versus right, liberal versus conservative divide in politics and society at large.  You can take a wild guess which side Don represents.  Historically, Grapes has made his views crystal clear on foreigners, everything from Swedish-born NHL players being effeminate to Russian players acting more like soccer players. If I were a soccer fan, I’d have taken offense to that—it’s a hard game to play with a very distinct culture. We would be comparing NHL apples to Premiere League oranges. Yet the tone was derisive, and it was all wrapped in the guise of pride.  In our country, and in our sport.

And that is part of the problem.

There is a reason Don Cherry ranked number seven in the CBC’s Greatest Canadian poll back in the early 2000’s. After all, he is the kind of television personality who commands your attention.  I’ve heard from several different commentators how when Don’s segment on Hockey Night came on, the whole room would quiet down until he was finished.  We all laughed when he had a joke at straight-man Ron MacLean’s expense, and either rolled our eyes or chuckled when Ron got in the last punny line before rolling to commercial.  I genuinely think that if CBC had sold Don’s ‘Coach’s Corner’ theme as opposed to the Hockey Night theme, people would have openly revolted.

As a hockey mind, Don was always smarter than his delivery would have you believe.  He has long spoken out in favour of safety for players, even if he maintains his defense of fighting in the game today. You can make the argument either way on that one, but suffice to say guys like Bob Probert and Donald Brashear would not be on rosters if they played today.  The game, like our society at large, has evolved.  And that word is crucial—evolved.  Not changed, because change can go forwards or backwards.  Evolution is a move forward, implying that change is for not only the better, but the progression of society.  We live in a world where fifty years ago, black people were celebrating equal rights in the United States nearly one hundred years after the Civil War was supposed to.  We’re celebrating the anniversary of the end of the Great War, which took place at a time when women couldn’t let alone serve in it, but scarcely had rights as human beings in Canada.  Today, the LGBTQ community is still pushing for equal treatment, even though their rights are enshrined in law.  Indeed, the most recent Canadian election opened up the can of worms that is same-sex marriage, even when both Conservatives and Liberals alike admitted that the issue has been closed.  You can’t go back on it, just like you can’t go back on civil rights and suffrage. 

We can’t devolve. As a race, divided into ethnic communities, nations, and beliefs, we progress in our own time, sometimes in baby steps.  But always forward. Sometimes it stalls.  World Wars were fought so these stagnations or concerted efforts from some to throw anchor and keep the world as it is or was can be defeated.  We do it because we have to.  We can’t stop progress.

Don Cherry has been a staunch defender of this principle his entire life, and I think we can all admire him for that.  I remember some of his earliest broadcasts in which he tearfully reported on the lost lives of fallen police officers, soldiers, and others who died in the line of duty.  More than anything he ever had to say about hockey strategy, his genuine love for those who serve is what vaulted him into the top ten greatest Canadians, ahead of prime-ministers and innovators, even ahead of Wayne Gretzky, an all-around nice guy and probably the only person who has transcended hockey outside of the game and Canada. Don Cherry was an advocate for the brave, and he held the same sentiment for his favourite hockey players.  Wanna drop the gloves and defend your star player when the league is too afraid to? Don has your back. Played through career-threatening injury? Double thumbs-up if you’re a Canadian.  Or at least an English-Canadian.  He has a long history of disparaging French-Canadians.

I think that the best way to understand Don Cherry is to look back at the era in which he came of age as a hockey guru.  He is of the generation that remembers the 1972 Summit Series, when Paul Henderson scored a winning goal that instantly proved that Canada could beat the communists in at least one thing.  Because let’s face it, otherwise, Canada was the wide-eyed bystander holding a melting ice cream cone while the neighbourhood toughs, the US and the USSR lunged at each other with knives. Our Summit Series win was about the equivalent of yelling at the Russian to distract him so the US could scramble for the knife he dropped.  We were doing our part.  And we were so proud of ourselves, sticking it to the enemy none of us ever met.  So when Russian players began to infiltrate our game, it was incredulous to people like Don that the enemy was now among us, playing with us rather than against, and suddenly a floodgate not dissimilar to the doors of our country opening to refugees was flung wide, the flow seemingly unstoppable.  And the great fear crept in—will they ever outnumber us? Will there be more of them, rendering us the minority?  Whatever happened to our values—where we played tough, not like ballerinas.

Don lived in Archie Bunker’s generation, when there was a genuine fear of the changes we all knew and could see were coming.  It’s understandable to fear change; that’s likely the biggest reason we fear dying, because we don’t know what’s coming next for sure. What we sometimes forget is that while we lament the loss of the good times, the comfort, and the constants that made sense of the world we lived in, we do ourselves a disservice in assuming all change will be harmful. In fact, change is necessary for evolution to continue. 

It is in all of this context that Don Cherry’s comments make the sense that they do. Like Archie couldn’t get his head around his nemesis George Jefferson, the successful black man that moved in next door, Don can’t wrap his head around the changes our world is experiencing. He still lives in an ‘us versus them’ world, when more and more of us accept happily that it is really just an ‘us’ culture. He sees people on the street not wearing a poppy and assumes that they are ‘them’ against us. His choice of the words ‘you people’, regardless of how he intended it, was divisive.  His choice of the words ‘you come here’ indicated people who have immigrated, even if he wasn’t calling out skin colour or ethnic origin. That same fear of the Europeans invading our game and changing it is living vicariously through some people Don has never spoken to all because he doesn’t see a red flower on their lapel.

The legacy of the Don Cherry firing is unknown, but you can extrapolate it with an educated guess. As time goes by, and the sting of losing an icon that generations admired will subside, as it always does, and the world will continue to evolve, as it always does. Don Cherry will be seen as an artifact not of the past, but a very specific past, in which fear of change dictated how we held on to outdated views on immigration, masculinity, and nationalism far too long, all because its most revered spokesman really thought he was right. 

Can we separate his love and reverence for the armed forces and first responders from his bombast and bravado?  I think so. People who make poor decisions always make lots of good ones, of course. Lance Armstrong raised tens of millions through his Livestrong foundation, and that good can’t be taken away even if he was a cheater. If Don Cherry truly wished to evolve and maintain his position, I have no doubts the avenue was clear for him to make amends.  But how do you make amends for something you think you didn’t do in the first place? So I don’t fault him for operating within the only world he knows.  And I don’t fault anyone who is mourning the loss of a national treasure, because I believe most are mourning the loss of all the good he has done. 

Change isn’t coming.  It’s here. “To you from failing hands, we throw the torch…”  John McCrae understood it.  Maybe that’s what’s most ironic about all of this.

It's Cold, Baby!

After much deliberation, I have made my conclusion about a very pressing matter.  Allow me to elaborate.

Once upon a recent time, the world around us changed.  The election of Donald Trump to the United States presidency shocked many, appalled more, and continues to confound all.  In the two years of the Twilight Zone reality show episode, we have witnessed the distortion of fact, the deck-stacking of the Supreme Court, and the legitimizing of extremist nationalism.  Fox News, the television equivalent of the National Enquirer, has poisoned the media well.  Any news outlet that speaks against Fox is immediately cast as biased against the right, and therefore labeled as ‘fake news’.  The irony here is just too much.  I remember reading the Enquirer when I was growing up.  My grandmother loved the tabloids.  She even believed some of the stories.  I found it hard to believe that Liz Taylor was really that important, that any of those celebs were actually gay, or that Ronald Reagan actually saw a UFO.  It all seems a little harmless in hindsight.

People who actually still value real facts and honest journalism have had to adjust.  When the most powerful voice in the world decries the media, all bets are off.  There are an alarming number of people that will blindly follow his lead, and as a result the rest of us are left to question everything.  The reality is that not all of Trump’s supporters are uneducated, ignorant hicks.  There are an even more staggering number of educated people that support his views.  They are tireless in their pursuit of evidence to back their claims.  They have statistics that can explain away the most bizarre of theories.  For as many scientists that believe climate change is real, there will always be outliers that will defend the far-right delusions.  They hide behind their computer screens and speak in tacky memes.  If you call them on their inappropriate mockery, they either hide behind the right to free speech or accuse the left of being too soft.  ‘Snowflake’ is the popular term among far-rightists.  ‘Cuck’ is the more vulgar label. It has devolved to the point that anyone who shows compassion toward any marginalized group is weak.  We have actually reached that point.

Anyone could be an enemy of the state.  It might be the trans-gendered.  A far-rightist would argue that people are either born with a penis or a vagina, therefore they are either male or female respectively.  That’s a convenient and comfortable position.  Honestly, if that were the case, life would be much easier.  It was so much easier to buy for a baby girl when all you had to do was look for the pink section at Babies ‘R Us.  Boys liked to play rough, snap training bra straps, catch bullfrogs and fix engines.  Girls learned how to make supper, sew, and rear the children.  But leave it to the transgenders to come along and claim that penis does not necessarily equal male.  What’s more, they even want gender-neutral bathrooms.  The far-right will claim that there will suddenly be perverted men masquerading as women preying on our little girls in public restrooms.  While there is no evidence this has happened, rest assured there are vigilant citizens scouring the internet for any example to post as proof we are under siege from sexually-confused deviants.  They seem to have a lot of time on their hands.

Perhaps this is an example of why the arrival of the #metoo movement was so necessary.  When groups like the Proud Boys receive equal time to spew misogyny and racism, it is refreshing for women to finally stand up and say ‘you know what, enough of this nonsense’.  The staggering number of ladies from every creed and colour openly saying men have harassed, assaulted, or violated them is a stark reminder that no matter what you choose to believe, women are not treated equally.  Celebrities were toppled.  Harvey Weinstein, Danny Masterson, and Bill Cosby have seen their careers destroyed and their reputations irreparably damaged.  Far-righters will often claim that the sudden revelation of all these women is suspect.  I mean, if you get raped, why don’t you say something?  That kind of statement is about the same as saying it’s really cold outside (baby), so much for climate change.  Or penis equals male.  Or caring for people makes you a snowflake.

The fallout from #metoo has changed our world forever.  We can reasonably say it has changed for the better.  We all benefit from our girls growing up to be confident young women.  Men lose nothing by sharing the wealth.  We’ve begun to move away from affirmative action policies; women don’t need to be hired to fill quotas anymore.  We aren’t there yet, but we are closing the gap at a record pace. 

#metoo has taught us that women have historically not been comfortable revealing abuse committed against them.  Rather than place the burden of proof on a victim, we now choose to believe them first.  It is always unfortunate when anyone, male or female, takes advantage of a situation and levels false accusations.  Still, the overwhelming majority will not wish to draw attention like this upon themselves.  I don’t know anyone who wants to be in the news as a rape victim.  To make that up about themselves would indeed be heinous, but honestly, it’s really not very likely.  Plausible, maybe.  But we are better served listening to people who come forward.  I have to believe that honesty has the best chance of winning.

The side effect of #metoo is a little less disconcerting.  Not long ago, The Dukes of Hazzard, the beloved ‘good ‘ole boys’ show that was just a bit of harmless fun, faced banning because of its use of the Confederate flag as its primary symbol.  We know, or at least those of us snowflakes that see beyond our own selfish instincts, that the confederate cross is a racist symbol.  No matter how much you want to ‘take it back’, the symbol has been ruined forever by its association with slavery.  Millions of people living today have ancestors that fought under that banner.  It must be really uncomfortable to know their great-great grandparents advocated state-sponsored racism.  Most Germans today are likely familiar with that sentiment.  Still, today, most people don’t harbour those views.  Or at least they say they don’t.

In light of #metoo, we look at things differently.  All those Bill Cosby bits about slipping a little something into a pretty young thing’s drink are just not funny anymore.  It’s fine if you laughed at them in the 70’s.  Most did.  After all, Bill Cosby was a family-friendly comic that never swore, raised kids, and portrayed the archetypal father for generations of young men.  But even if he didn’t turn out to be a sexual predator, the joke has long since lost its legitimacy.  Drugging women should always have been seen as wrong.  As a society, we have finally woken from the hangover and realized that bad decisions were made.  Far-rightists that feel that life back then when people weren’t so easily offended was better, notwithstanding, we are better for it today.  Bill Cosby’s conviction has proven that women who are brave enough to speak out will be believed, and those who commit crimes against them will be held accountable for their actions.  Judge Kavanaugh notwithstanding, we seem to be doing somewhat better in that regard.

The scrutiny of what we accept as entertainment has therefore become intense.  And justly so, I think.  I loved Tone-Loc’s ‘Funky Cold Medina’.  I actually own the album.  But damn if I don’t cringe when I read the lyrics today.  Whether it’s the fact that FCM is really a date rape drug or the big ‘ole mess that ‘Sheena was a man’, it’s kind of embarrassing that we actually found this song entertaining.  The Beastie Boys’ ‘Brass Monkey’ fits the same description.  Both of these are still catchy songs, but the content is clearly unacceptable through today’s filter.  I once vehemently defended Dire Straits’ ‘Money For Nothing’ verse that describes ‘the little faggot with the earring and the makeup’ as a character’s narrative in the context of the song.  I will still listen to it today, but I am at peace with the radio edit that is allowed to air on radio nowadays. 

But none of these have drawn the ire of the public like the furor of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’. 

While this song has actually been scrutinized before over the years for its controversial depiction of a woman being convinced to stay with her lover who keeps pouring her drinks, it remains a much-beloved standard in the western holiday canon. It’s been covered by everyone from Dean Martin to Zooey Deschanel.  It’s as Christmas as mistletoe.  And as such, it is different from the hip-hop hits of the 80’s I mentioned above because it is universally sentimental.  I mean, if someone came along and declared that Jingle Bells was racist, more than just far-rightists would be disappointed.

For the record, I don’t believe the song is as lascivious as it has been suggested.  I’m indifferent to the ban from radio, since I personally don’t get fuzzy feelings when I hear it, but even if I did, I know I can play it anytime I like.  It’s still on YouTube, on Spotify, on CD or vinyl—hell, it’s still sung by Zooey in the shower while Buddy hangs out not-creepily-at-all on the sink.  I usually skip Christmas songs on the radio just because I don’t like being inundated by them against my will.  Let me play my Kenny and Dolly or Jim Reeves records while I decorate my living room and I’m happy.

Also for the record, I am glad we are having this debate.  To question intelligently and calmly what is or is not acceptable for our entertainment, regardless of our comfort level or sentiment, is proof that our society is evolving.  The pullback against the far-rightists is working.  Banning ‘Baby’ is not a loss for us.  It is a victory for a process that is ultimately making us a better society.  Make no mistake, I believe it was in error that the song was banned.  I believe it is a teachable moment for us to recognize #metoo and to admit that the playful lyrics from a bygone era are maybe not malevolent, but still worthy of review today.  I predict this ban will be dropped eventually.  You can poke fun at me if I’m wrong.

What is most disappointing, for me, however is the reaction from the non-far-rightists. In a twist I never saw coming, people of all stripes are copping out to sentiment over reason.  Gone is the obligation to question with rationality.  In its place is knee-jerk reaction, emotionally-driven hollering and meme-culture opinion.  Instead of taking the time to think it over, we seem quick to draw false comparison.  Whether or not they ban Cardi B has nothing to do with ‘Baby’.  Suddenly, anyone who calls this staple of our holiday bliss into question is ironically now a snowflake.  The ban of this song is apparently symbolic of a world whose feelings are too easily hurt.  This is a narrative that sounds really familiar.

Call me a snowflake if you like, but I simply cannot apologize for doing my due diligence.  I am perfectly happy living in a world where in this case, censorship may have gone too far, but the apparatus now exists where we can apply the sober second thought of which our heroine of song may or may not have had the luxury.

Happy holidays! Or Merry Christmas, or whatever.

. 

Cold Dead Hands

I am old enough to remember the traditional design of lawn darts, those large avian projectiles you tossed in your yard, sort of like horseshoes, croquet, bocce, or the like.  They had three plastic fins and a weighted metal nose that was fairly blunt, but sharp enough to stick in the ground once you tossed them.  You would lob them underhanded towards a small plastic hoop, maybe a foot and a half in diameter, at some pre-determined distance.  Today we play washer toss in a similar fashion.

We were playing with the lawn darts one summer day in the front yard.  A friend was visiting, but I can’t remember who it actually was that tossed that fateful dart.  He swung his arm like a windmill and the dart flew high in the air, nearly directly up in a vertical line.  It arced away from us fortunately, but unfortunately not far enough away from Dad’s half-ton with the old style cap over the bed.  We used to travel in the back of it, but that’s a safety story for another time.

The dart stuck into the fibreglass cap, puncturing it and drawing the ire of my rightfully angry father who came out waving his arms.  It was the last time I remember ever playing with lawn darts.  Incidentally, they had been banned years earlier; ours were just left over from before the ban.

You see, my grandparents owned the lawn darts in question.  They also owned croquet sets and real iron horseshoes.  Were they either alive or had the physical capacity to do so, they would be playing washer toss today, no doubt.  Lawn games are lots of fun, low in cost, and easy for people of all ages to play without the risk of significant injury.

Except for lawn darts.

It turns out that several people had died from injuries sustained from these seemingly harmless toys.  My grandparents, as far as I know, never injured themselves or anyone else playing lawn darts.  It’s probably because they didn’t swing them around and launched them into the sky for them to come raining down on anyone within range.  Simple physics would tell you that any item of a certain weight would gain terminal velocity, making the impact so much harder.  With a semi-pointed tip, it isn’t hard to imagine someone dying from one.  The lawn darts industry horrified no doubt that kids died from their products, redesigned them to have a ball-shaped tip that would not penetrate someone’s skull if launched into the air.  You could, of course, still hurt someone, but the reasonable responsible use of them would be much safer.  Was it a perfect solution?  Of course not.  They could have been banned outright, and in a way, they were, since lawn darts aren’t particularly popular anymore.  Washer toss and bocce are just as fun and exponentially safer.

The truth is, I would be just fine if lawn darts were removed from the market altogether.  I like yard games, but there are lots of options I could choose if this product simply vanished.  Yes, someone could take a washer and beam me in the head with it.  Realistically though, I’m happier knowing that irresponsible or unsupervised kids won’t accidentally injure or kill someone with a product we don’t really need.

That same man who came out ranting and raving about a hole in his truck cap also happens to be a lifelong hunter and gun owner.  As a young man, Dad acquired his gunsmith license and ran a small gun repair business, the Lock, Stock and Barrel gun shop, out of a spare room in our home.  I grew up with a healthy respect for firearms.  My sisters and I grew up watching our Dad clean, repair, and refurbish guns of all shapes and sizes—of the long-barrel variety, but not handguns, that I can remember, at any rate.

I remember once some friends and I got into a water pistol fight in the recreation room downstairs, where Dad had his guns on display in a visible but secured gun rack.  He came downstairs infinitely angrier than the day we were playing lawn darts.  We were being too reckless in a room where he maintained firearms, even though they were locked, the ammunition stored in a separate place.  Any seemingly harmless horseplay was strictly forbidden, so seriously he took gun safety. 

When I was in my later teens, I took a hunter’s safety firearms course, and successfully passed, earning me the right to legally hold and use a firearm for hunting.  Never an enthusiastic hunter, I nevertheless was happy to have educated myself and taken proper training, since hunting was such an important part of my early life.  It’s better to educate yourself because all education is of course valuable.

During the course, I remember the instructor told us at the very beginning that if at any time, while handling a gun, the muzzle of the barrel found itself pointing at anyone, even by accident, we would fail the course instantly.  He made no apologies for being so strict; his reasoning was that if you accidentally point a gun at someone and it goes off, you get no second chance.  The target would likely die.  This made complete sense to me.  I remember nervously manipulating the gun, once even coming close to accidentally pointing it towards someone.  Luckily, I didn’t, and I have no fatalities on my record.

I have never kept a gun in my place of residence since I moved out from my parents’ house.  I don’t hunt anymore, and probably never will again.  I can’t see any reason why I would have to ever own a gun again.  If all hunting rifles were suddenly banned from this very moment, my life would be no worse for it, since I have no reason to miss them.  It’s as simple as that.  If you don’t need it, you shouldn’t miss it if it’s gone.  Calm down, hunting friends.  I am simply relating this to my own experience.

Now I know it isn’t that simple.  Hunting, at its core, is a respectful sport; I respect responsible hunters and always will.  If a hunter waves his barrel around haphazardly and jeopardies the lives of people around him or herself, that respect vanishes and the question needs to be raised as to whether or not that person should be allowed to have one.  After all, if you drive under the influence of drugs or alcohol, and you get caught, you can—and should—lose your privilege to drive a car.  I am a teacher; if a student shows me they can’t responsibly keep their cell phone in their pocket, they lose the right to keep one in my classroom.  This isn’t rocket science.  It’s common sense.

Still, as a society, we have to make hard decisions that sometimes contravene our fundamental rights.  Can you utter death threats even though you have the right to free speech?  Of course not.  Can you drive without wearing your seatbelt?  Unless you have a specific and approved reason not to do so, no.  Can you use illegal and dangerous street drugs?  Again, you can’t legally buy them, and if found in your possession, you could be charged. 

All of these because society simply can’t trust common sense.  Anyone with clarity of thought and the right education on the subject should know that if you inject heroin, you can only cause harm to yourself.  If you have half a brain, you know that seatbelts in fact save lives, even if it’s more comfortable and convenient not to clip the belt into its latch. 

If you have even a fraction of common sense, you can see that guns are designed to kill.  Whether or not it is a hunting rifle that shoots game or a handgun issued to police officers, the outcome is the same.  The target of the gun will face injury or mortality.  That is their purpose.  Guns were an improvement on the snare, spear or bow and arrow.  Guns were a technological upgrade to other projectile weapons, to work at maximum efficacy.  No soldier wants to wander onto a battlefield knowing their opponent has a better gun.  Everyone knows you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.

So I see what people mean when they say more guns in schools would help in the event a shooter arrives.  Theoretically, if I had proper training, I could use a sidearm for which I would hopefully be licensed and fully trained, safely locked in a box in my classroom, to defend my frightened students from some gunslinger skulking in the halls just waiting to see the whites of their eyes.  I would follow all protocol—lock my doors, cover the windows, line up my students along the wall out of sight of the doorway, and cock the hammer in the event some ravenous lunatic bursts through the door.  They would be dead in my sight, because my training would kick in and I wouldn’t hesitate under the pressure of the moment.  Without flinching, I would take down that son of a bitch, and my kids would cheer at my heroism.  And if there was more than one shooter, I would hopefully be armed by my employer with an AR-style rifle that could carry more rounds.  Hell, I might even be able to leave the room to hunt the bad guys down.  As I’m typing it, I imagine what saloon doors would look like in my classroom…

All of that is a bunch of hogwash.  I know myself.  In my own experience, I nearly lost my chance at a hunter’s license because I almost pointed the gun at someone.  I remember shooting my first duck—straight through the wooden duck decoy that drifted in front of it while I hesitated to pull the trigger.  The decoy burst with a cloud of smoke as it bobbed head-down, my quarry floating lifeless behind it.  Dad grimaced that day too.  Would I have been so lucky had I known the duck was also aiming back at me?

More guns equal less violence?  I can’t think of a statement as asinine as that.  Yes, people have to shoot them for them to work.  Yes, people have to throw lawn darts for them to hurt anyone.  But guess how many people have died since lawn darts were effectively banned?  You can figure it out.

Just like we can still play bocce, horseshoes, croquet, or washer toss responsibly, we can have guns for specific purposes.  Hunting is inherently safe when done properly.  Target shooting, paintball, biathlon—all of these are gun-based sports that use firearms that pose risks if not used properly, but are generally safe and fun.  However, I don’t see any logical reason why anyone has to own a handgun.  Protection?  That is a very romantic notion.  If you think you can defend yourself in your own home with a handgun from a home invader, please see my above description of me defending my classroom in a highly satirical, yet eerily plausible scenario.  If you try to tell me that you would have any better fortune, I call bullshit.  Unless you are a highly skilled and trained marksman, police officer, or assassin, you can’t guarantee an ideal outcome.  On top of that, you risk injury to innocents by simply keeping a gun in your home.  There are statistics that speak of the tragic consequences of misfiring and accidental shooting—but guess what?  These wouldn’t happen if the gun wasn’t there in the first place.

No one likes change.  We often cling to the romantic notion that things were better the way they used to be.  When our grandfathers kept loaded rifles under the bed for protection.  When we used to ride our bikes without helmets.  When seatbelts weren’t a thing.  When you used to drink out of the garden hose.  You’ve seen these memes online.

What if, just what if all of these weren’t safe in the first place, and we lucked out?  What if there were bacteria in that garden hose?  What if you fell off your bike and landed on your head? What if your little brother or sister found grandpa’s rifle?

What if the lawn dart killed someone you love?

Plain and simple, if you love your right to own guns more than human lives, you are delusional at best.  I can think of worse things to say, but I’ll leave it at that.

Charleton Heston, the famous actor and spokesperson for the National Rifle Association, a group I think should be seen as detrimental to society as any terrorist organization, once proclaimed that they would have to pry his gun from his ‘cold dead hands’.  I would ask Mr. Heston, is he implying that his hands would be cold and dead as a result of untimely death?  Like, from a gun, let’s say?  Is that not a little ironic?

I’m perfectly okay surrendering my lawn darts from my warm, living hands, personally.