DIARY
The
flush really doesn’t care about gender
by
Robert LaFrance
Many people, when they heard that
Prince had died, sent condolences to Queen Elizabeth II, who was a little
baffled since all her princes were tucked in for the night and accounted for.
Except Harry. She never knows what he’s up to. A few hours later one of the
kitchen staff informed her that Prince was an American rock star from
Minnesota.
Music superstars have taken quite a
hit lately. Merle Haggard, David Bowie and of course Prince have gone on their
ways; one can’t help thinking it must have been with a certain sigh of relief to go when they saw the likes of Donald Trump lining up to lead the nation.
I think the problem is that
Americans don’t have enough to do, whether because the company they used to
work for has been shipped off to Korea, because they’re rich or simply because
they’re stupid. (Believe it or not, some Canadians aren’t too swift either.)
But back to insulting the U.S.A.
Their latest dumb-ass campaign has something to do with the fact that LGBT
(lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender) people might be allowed to use the
same washrooms as God-fearing ‘Amurricans’.
Seriously. This has become a
political issue. Should someone who has changed gender be allowed in the
washrooms of their new gender? I’m not kidding. Facebook has lit up with this
issue and many states are mulling laws about it.
Here are a few sentences from a CBC
News report: “Transgender bathroom access has become a hot political topic in
the U.S…. North Carolina just passed a law stipulating that anyone using a
public bathroom must use the bathroom assigned to the gender appearing on his
or her birth certificate.”
Prince is in Heaven and saying:
“Whew! Dodged that one.”
**************************
Back to reality from that short trip
to CrazyLand, I notice that Canadian municipalities and provinces are lining up
to get a piece of the $125 billion infrastructure money the federal government
is doling out over the next few years in accordance with the Liberals’ election
promises.
New Brunswick will get the lion’s
share of course…sorry. That was wrong, but I grew up in the Sixties and keep
getting these flashbacks. What I meant to say is that New Brunswick will get
the fruitfly’s share, while the usual suspects – Quebec and Ontario – have
already lined up at the trough. Once they’re appeased, there might be a dollop
for the rest of us.
It reminds me of the Henderan family
of southeast Tilley where I grew up. I used to visit there sometimes to try and
gather up enough players for a softball game, and they always seemed to be
fighting about food. Mrs. Henderan would bake six loaves of bread and before
that had cooled off she had to start another batch. In that case, I was Justin
Trudeau – but much better looking – as I watched them wrangle.
It looks as if New Brunswick might
get $90 million of this infrastructure money, so I can look forward to driving
on smooth roads in the near future. Two days ago I drove to Woodstock from our
estate in Kincardine and found once again that old jokes are often the most
accurate.
Remember the one about the comedian
describing a very bad road? The only time it got smooth was when he left it and
drove along the ditch. I ask you to drive (slowly) along Highway 105 from the
Victoria-Carleton county line to Bath. Although 3,499 potholes have been
repaired (well, filled) the road is VERY rough. At several points I drove on
the shoulder of the road where it was much smoother.
Keep in mind that this is the
‘Scenic Route’ in a province that is promoting tourism. It is, in fact, scenic,
because there are car engines, parts of pickup trucks, and demolished RVs all
along the way.
I am told from official sources that
one third of that 14.7 km stretch of road will be replaced with new asphalt,
etc. this summer, but the remaining two-thirds will have to wait until 2017 and
2018 to have the full treatment. Meanwhile, we drive on the shoulder and nearby
fields.
**************************
Because of the sunny, though cold,
weather, I have been setting some plants out in my garden and sheltering them
under plastic. I was in the midst of that operation just this morning when my
friend and neighbour Flug showed up for some lemonade, as is his habit in the
morning. And afternoon, and evening.
He took a peek under the plastic.
“Whoa!” He shrank back. “You’re not allowed to grow that until Justin Trudeau
makes it legal.”
Ooops. I had better pay more
attention. It reminded me of the time, years ago, when a police car pulled into
my driveway to ask directions and pointed to some plants near the garage.
“What’s that?” she said. I said it was tansy, which my friend Louie had said it
was. It took me and my lawyer a while to talk my way out of that one.-end-
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