Country

August 18, 2020

Here’s an interesting coincidence… the adult human body has 206 bones; the earth has 206 sovereign nations. If you were to map each bone to a country, what would that look like? For example, I imagine all those little wrist bones might relate to all those little South Pacific Island Nations. Few people really know what’s there or what they’re called or what function they serve… but they’re a very relevant part of the bigger picture.

But let’s worry about what’s more important; the entire human body doesn’t work well without a solid, healthy backbone. You could say the same about the geo-political stability and general health of the entire planet.

There are 33 vertebrae in the human body, so we hopefully have 33 solid countries inhabiting this planet which, to some extent, the rest need to be able to rely upon… because the whole thing falls apart, or, at least, is in great pain… when those 33 are out of alignment.

There is no dispute what 33 bones make up the human backbone, and while there would be discussion as to what countries round out the bottom of the list, the top of that 33 would be pretty straightforward; all of North America, most of Europe, some of South America… the big players in Asia, perhaps a few in Africa… etc.

Indisputably, the U.S. would be near the top. There was a time in the late 1940s where, without a doubt, they were number one. They’re still top 5, probably top 3… but here’s the thing; they’re presently in pain. Like with a fractured vertebra, and the discomfort that causes. A pain we’re all feeling.

Back problems have treatment, but it’s not always straightforward. You can go visit your local friendly physiatrist or chiropractor or rheumatologist or whatever it might take. There’s a specialist out there who’s very familiar with what’s causing your back pain, and she’ll do what she can to fix it.

But, here’s the thing… if you’ve been visiting the same medical specialist for almost 4 years, and your pain not only hasn’t gotten any better, but it’s gotten notably worse… well, perhaps it’s time to move on. Even though you were told by others that this specialist was terrific, tremendous, the best ever… it may be that you need to reach your own conclusions. Your health and well-being depend on it. And, as per above, the whole world’s as well.

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By |2020-10-08T01:09:45-07:00August 18th, 2020|Categories: COVID-19 Daily Report, Philosophy, Art & Literature|Tags: , , , , |9 Comments

August 12, 2020

If you followed WWF professional wrestling in the 80s, perhaps you remember the masked wrestler “Kamala” – ostensibly a fearsome Ugandan warrior. In reality, he was an American athlete/performer by the name of James Harris. And right around the time Joe Biden was deciding on Kamala Harris as his VP running mate, James “Kamala” Harris passed away, aged 70, of COVID-19. It’s one of those weird coincidences that mean nothing… but still make you say, “Huh.”

I have a suggestion for Biden/Harris. They need a catchy campaign slogan, and it should be this: MAAA – for two reasons.

First of all, "MAAA!!!" is the scream little kids yell out when they’re lost, looking for a parent… like the little kid who, when he was 6 years old, accompanied his parents to buy a new washer/dryer and decided to wander out of the store and walk around the block, not realizing that they were on Kingsway somewhere, and blocks around there are tri-angled and non-conforming, and if you don’t know what you’re doing, you can easily get lost… but fortunately, while the little kid was standing outside screaming "MAAA!!!", a kind stranger asked him what’s wrong and guided him back to the store where he composed himself and approached his parents who were just finishing up buying a new washer and dryer.

And the U.S. seems kind of lost these days, and needs someone to guide them back to where they belong. Like half the country is screaming "MAAA!!!"

The second reason is that it stands for what I think makes a lot of sense: Make America America Again. MAAA.

It’s my personal opinion that our neighbour to the south wasn’t so badly broken that it needed fixing to be “Great” again, but boy, did that slogan ever take off. I’ve never heard a good answer to the question though, from the people that support that sentiment… what exact Greatness are you hoping to recapture? When was America “Great” to the extent it’s not “Great” now? And frankly, however you define it, it seems to be a lot less Great today than it ever was.

What’s clear is that America, once feared and respected around the world… is now ridiculed and pitied. And unless you’re delusional in thinking things are going “Great”, then forget that particular adjective; you probably just want to see an America that used to exist and is, for the moment — like I was, wandering the streets around Kingsway all those years ago — lost. It won’t be as easy to find as I was… my MAAA campaign lasted maybe 30 minutes, during which time I really missed my parents. And at the moment, I’m really missing the America I’ve known most of my life. I’m not the only one.

This will be a lot tougher, but it has to start somewhere. Someone crank out a few million blue hats with that MAAA on them, and get on with it.

#MAAA

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August 5, 2020

The plot device known as “deus ex machina” was invented by the Greeks, ages ago. It literally translates to “god from the machine”, where back in ancient Greek theatre, the actors playing the role would be hanging from ropes, or some sort of machine, sweeping in to save the day, in whatever context was needed.

From a literary/artistic point of view, this has its detractors… for obvious reasons. It has the potential to wreck an otherwise excellent story with a convenient miracle to undo the entire struggle that led to that point. William Golding was criticized for this in “Lord of the Flies”… after building up an incredible narrative with intriguing and insightful and though-provoking ideas… suddenly, in a just a few pages, a ship arrives, rescues the boys, The End.

It’s not always that blunt, but you get the idea… and it fit well with the narratives of Greek Tragedies (and comedies)… and since then, it’s appeared all over the place. H.G. Wells’s “The War of the Worlds”… big, powerful aliens have the technology to travel across the universe with a battle fleet ready to destroy earth… until they themselves are destroyed by bacteria. Actually, almost identically, Will Smith’s aliens in “Independence Day” – and a computer virus.

You get the idea; it’s when something appears out of nowhere, just in the nick of time… to save the day, like divine intervention.

There are a few versions of this these days to consider. One, of course, is Donald Trump’s hope that this is what will resolve the giant mess his country finds itself in, much of which is his responsibility. Numerous times, he’s stated how it’ll just go away, like a miracle, burn itself out, vanish overnight, whatever. Unfortunately for him, the real world doesn’t operate that way; even the ancient Greeks knew that.

More recently, Trump did an interview with Jonathan Swan on HBO, and the entire thing is now available on YouTube. It is an astonishing 40 minutes of incoherent, delusional nonsense. And great kudos to Mr. Swan who, unlike pretty-much every other reporter, didn’t acquiesce to Donald Trump’s bullshit. He called him on it, repeatedly… though, as expected, when DT has no answer, he deflects away, onto the next incoherent, irrelevant point. The end result of it was asking yourself… what did I learn from that? The answer will be… not much. There was nothing factually useful in Trump’s responses, other than confirmation that he actually doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. You can’t accuse him of actually lying when he doesn’t actually get it. That much was made obvious when the problems with his fist-full of printouts were explained back to him.

Donald Trump has had a hovering “deus ex machina” all his life. First, it was daddy Fred who handheld his inept narcissist of a son through childhood and adolescence, paving and smoothing-out what otherwise would’ve (and should’ve) been a dead-end path.

Then it was Trump’s problem solvers, many of whom are now in prison, having themselves acquiesced to illegalities to keep their guy happy.

Then it was the Republican party and the White House and all the “yes-men” he could gather… and, as we’ve seen with textbook narcissists, once the “yes” turns into anything but… even a “maybe”, let alone a “no” – you’re out of there. The best people, tremendous people, beautiful people… exit stage left, with a knife in their back and a grade-school cheap insulting nickname to be Twittered about incessantly.

During the interview, you could see Trump looking around at his people. “Help”, his eyes pleaded. Help me. Rescue me. Where’s my DeM? It wouldn’t have been too presidential to stand up, rip off the mic and make a scene, like so many celebrities love doing when they’re asked a question they don’t like… no, The President had to sit through it, very uncomfortably in parts, and hang himself just a little bit more with every astonishing, baseless, irrelevant word.

There are no machines big enough, ropes strong enough, storylines believable enough… that would have a Deus sweep in to save the day for him. His mistakes will follow him into eternity, where maybe he can have a discussion with Deus Himself. That’s Who it’d take to make him understand.

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July 31, 2020

I keep threatening to write very little sometimes… but this time I mean it. I’m on South Pender Island for the long weekend, and while I’ll endeavour to post numbers and charts at 5pm, the usual content will be lacking.

Neat thing about these Gulf Islands… their history is quite unique. Between 1964 and 1977, as many as 125,00 Vietnam War draft-dodgers made their way to Canada… and many of them, having quietly slipped away in the middle of the night, literally under the radar, made their way to Salt Spring, Mayne, Galiano and Pender islands.

Jimmy Carter pardoned them all in 1977, but half of them chose to stay, having established lives here. It makes for an interesting crowd. After 1977, they could once again appear on the radar, but the simple island living was too good to give up. Sitting here right now, soaking it all in… the view, the nature, the trees, the water… I totally get it.

And… not great numbers across the country today. If we continue to have days like this… 50 new cases in B.C… I may just stay here.

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July 23, 2020

You walk into some high-school test. You’ve studied, but maybe not enough… you could’ve studied more. You should’ve. Maybe it’ll be one of those miracle days where the teacher is sick or someone pulls the fire alarm or it’s just postponed for some reason.

Oh well, no such luck… but… well, maybe it’s ok. You didn’t answer all of it, but you got to maybe 70% of the questions… should be ok. And of the questions you answered, you got most of them. Maybe. Yeah, it’ll be ok.

So, later in the week, you get the test back…. and indeed, you answered 70% of the questions. And of the questions you answered, you got about 70% correct…. so, all good… right?

Well, 70% of 70% is 49%. So, no… not so good. Indeed… Epic fail.

That’s the way math works, and that’s the way it’s going to work with three independent variables:

A: what percent of the population needs to be C-19 immune for there to be herd immunity?

B: what percent effective will a vaccine ultimately be?

C: what percent of the population will get vaccinated?

The unfortunate reality is that B x C will likely never exceed A, so this thing is going to stick around for a very long time. The lunacy of the sub-group that makes C anything less than 100% is particularly aggravating. It sincerely makes me wonder… if smallpox hadn’t been eradicated by 1980, would it be celebrating some sort of re-awakening these days, thanks to a bunch of “enlightened” individuals who’d never “poison” their kids with the vaccine…?

“Do you know what’s in a vaccine?”, they’ll ask you… and list off a bunch of poisons… “If it’s so healthy, try drinking it… you’ll probably die.”

Yeah, you know what else is healthy? Broccoli. Try injecting some into your bloodstream… you’ll probably die.

I no longer have any interest in arguing with anti-vaxxers. It makes my thoroughly-well-vaccinated blood boil. And I really wouldn’t care as much, were it not for the fact that their insanity has the potential to affect us all. There are those who wish they could take the vaccine, but for other health reasons, cannot. Those are the people who’d benefit most from herd immunity.

There’s no vaccine yet, but it’s coming. Many groups are making great strides. But if we think our problems are solved when it gets here, not quite.

Apart from the logistics involved in creating 7+ billion doses and distributing them… comes the issue of who gets them first. It’s an interesting discussion. The first thought is obvious – doctors, front-line medical practitioners, etc. They should certainly be near the top of the list, but those people have PPE and good habits and access to medical care. From a humanitarian point of view, it should be those at highest risk for numerous reasons, and if you think it through, you wind up with an interesting conclusion.

Here’s a list of risk factors… age, overall health, access to good medical care, and liberty to exercise social distancing. Ethnicity is not irrelevant, though socioeconomic factors play into it too… like in the U.S., twice as many Black people are dying from this than white people. That may or may not map to other places around the world, but either way, we can all agree it’d be better to ride this out in a first-world country as opposed to somewhere in the third-world.

Put it all together and what do you get? Somewhere in Mogadishu, there is an aging diabetic Somalian pirate, rotting away in a crowded cesspool of a prison. That guy needs the vaccine more than I do, but he’s unlikely to be offered it anytime soon. He’ll get his shot long after some enlightened local anti-vaxxer scoffs it away. Epic fail.

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July 17, 2020

What a beautiful day… I hope you all managed to take advantage of it, and if not… good news… it’s mostly supposed to stick around over the next few days.

That is good news; what’s not so good news, as usual, is what’s going on south of the border. I know I sound like a broken record, but sometimes it’s important. Many news outlets are keeping track of Trump’s lies, as they should… otherwise, you get used to it and normalize it and it becomes par for the course. Accountability is important, even if it’ll ultimately be after the fact. Some things are not an OK part of the new normal.

Yesterday came the news that the White House will be controlling the data. Today comes the news that the White House will block the CDC from testifying on re-opening schools.

Not everyone believes in prayer, but whether you do or not, keep Ruth Bader Ginsburg in your thoughts. She is a fighter, a trooper, a survivor… a legend. And, for the moment, her presence implies a significant tipping point for the Supreme Court.

But she is 87 and is now undergoing chemo for a 4th recurrence of cancer, this time pancreatic… having fought off lung and colon over the last 20 years. The reality is she’s unlikely to be around another 4 years, though we can hope. But given her fighting spirit, perhaps we can see her hanging around till the end of the year… or at least, long enough that Trump wouldn’t have the opportunity to replace her with a frightening ultra-conservative.

It’s funny (or perhaps tragic) to listen to some of the fervent Trump supporters screaming things like “This is not a democracy! This is a republic!”

There isn’t enough room nor enough time for me to voice what I’d like to try to explain to some people, and unfortunately, it might go in one ear and out the other. But, to be honest, when I started writing this daily thing exactly 4 months ago (to the day), it was all about the pandemic. It’s shifted to the management of the pandemic, where the vast majority of the world is handling it properly, or at least making an effort to do it as well as they can. We’re all familiar with the glaring exception.

But interestingly enough, with all my Trump bashing, I think I’ve gotten through to a few people. Every time I write about Trump, I hear about it from a few people, including family… not because they disagree, but because they know I’ll be facing a barrage of negative comments.

And for a while…initially, that was true. A few Facebook friends took exception to my continual bashing of their guy, and left. A few others have stuck around, and stuck to their… guns. And I do hear from them.

But there’s also a contingent that perhaps has seen the light; perhaps has managed to differentiate their political leanings from the person who’s supposed to be promoting and leading those ideals. Trump's falling ratings… the only thing he seems to genuinely care about… are indicative of that.

I’m not American and I don’t get a vote. But I have family and friends who live down there, and while I fully support keeping the border closed for now… I miss them; they miss me. Trump’s spokesman yesterday said, “Why would anyone want to go to Canada, anyway?” … and he continued with the usual “this is the greatest country in the world, and Donald Trump, blahblahblah”.

Well, to reply to that rhetorical question, the answer might be “to get the hell away from exponentially growing coronavirus numbers”.

It’s kind of melodramatic to say that the suvivial of the U.S. as we know it depends on it… but history is full of examples of Republics rounding that ugly corner. It all used to be a joke, how Trump might be the last democratically elected president. Ha ha, it’s not so funny now.

From up here, all we can do is watch…enjoy our sunshine and our safe, closed border. And worry. And hope, that down there, they figure it out.

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July 16, 2020

It’s been one of those days where I haven’t had much time to think, let alone write anything… so I will simply dig into my trove of cool words and pull out this beauty:

Semaphorism (noun): a conversational hint that you have something personal to say on the subject but don’t go any further—an emphatic nod, a half-told anecdote, an enigmatic ‘I know the feeling’—which you place into conversations like those little flags that warn diggers of something buried underground: maybe a cable that secretly powers your house, maybe a fiberoptic link to some foreign country.

I didn’t write that definition; I literally cut-and-pasted it… but I’ll give you my 2 cents, because, like some many oddities these days, it’s relevant.

I’m finding that as things migrate from the complete “WTF is going on” that we all felt in March and April… to May and June where we got used to the weirdness… that here’s what July and August will look like; very familiar, yet unfamiliar. It’s worth noting that this has all been (and continues to be) the strangest of times, and that applies to us all equally…. like, my life has been derailed in ways that make it completely unrelatable to what I was used to. You can say the same thing; everyone can. But what used to be normal for you was never normal for me to begin with. You’’ve been dealing with your own issues, as have I.

Forget the pandemic for a moment… even without it, we’ve all been absorbed in our little worlds from the day we were born. We’ve all had unique experiences. But suddenly, we’re all in the same boat, and it’s curious to think that the present derailed versions of what we’re all going through have a lot more in common with each other than ever… 6 months ago, we were all so different. Now we’re all derailed… and much more similar. Recall that word Sonder… the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own… isn’t it ironic (don’t you think) that it took a global pandemic to “normalize” life to this extent? A huge earthquake, a meteor strike or a nice, huge unexpected nearby volcanic blast would all achieve the same thing (and let’s hope we don’t find out anytime soon… but 2020 is only halfway done…), but when you think about it, we all have a lot more in common than we used to. We don’t need to fake it in conversations; we know exactly what someone is talking about when they talk about something that until recently, would’ve been completely unfamiliar to all of us.

A bit of a silver lining on the huge cloud… and I’m looking forward to the day when talking about all of that commonality will be within conversations that begin with, “Remember when…”

 

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July 8, 2020

I’ve never been a high-school teacher, but like most people reading this, I spent 5 years on the other side of it. And, like most people, experienced the entire spectrum of really good ones to really bad ones. But one thing they (and we) all knew; there’s an inherent power struggle between the teacher and the class, and it’s delicate. A teacher has to be very careful about playing that balance, especially as it’s twenty-plus students vs. one. Too strict or too mean, and they will lose the respect of the class. On the flip-side, too casual and buddy-buddy and they will also lose the respect… and control.

If you’re a teacher and you’re going to fail, it’s probably better to be over-strict and tough and not care what the students think. At least you’re likely to get results, and who cares about the bad-mouthing that goes on about you outside of class. I had many teachers who were that type. I also had a few, the best ones – who managed to skirt that fine line. They were friendly, relatable and fair… and received the respect due to them. They also got excellent results.

And then there were the few – some that lasted less than a year – that lost the class very near the beginning, and from there, they were doomed. There was no fixing it.

One such teacher that comes to mind was my grade 8 math teacher. He was new to the school, as were we all. But unlike all the other grade-8 teachers, this guy wanted to be our friend… and it didn’t take long for that to melt down, into an hour of anarchy every math class. Those 55 minutes were about 15 minutes of us all yelling “Boring!” in unison every few minutes, 15 minutes of him telling us to shut up… “Quiet guys. Quiet please.”, another 15 minutes of him handing out detention time, and maybe 10 minutes of actual teaching.

His technique for handing out detention was unique; he dished it out 5 minutes at a time. Every noise infraction would net someone 5 minutes, 10 if it was really bad, and he would dutifully write it down in a notebook before continuing to teach… only to be interrupted again moments later. And on Friday, he would read out the list of names and how many minutes everyone had earned. I’m not too proud to say that I was usually on that list, often near the top.

One particular day, we were playing rugby… this teacher had also managed to earn the coaching role for some of the grade 8s; the second and third-tier athletes. In my school, everyone had to play rugby, so… like the whole spectrum of great to awful teachers, there was also that spectrum of rugby players. All the way from world-class down to “he shouldn’t even be dressed to play, let alone out on the field”. I was somewhere in the middle, and on this day, found myself running with the ball, unimpeded, toward the goal line. I rarely found myself in that situation and was already celebrating in my mind… when, out of nowhere, I got tackled… hard.

I should add… in rugby, there is exactly one right way to play, and that is… hard. If you don’t go in as hard as the other guy, you will get hurt. This applies at every level, assuming everyone is pretty-much the same weight. There’s a reason why the world-class players are all monstrously large and very fit; they need to out-class the other guys. In fact, one of my classmates went on to play for the Canadian national team and then professionally, in France. He’s probably reading this, and if he is (hey Rich, what’s up), he’d tell you the same thing – you go in hard.

Except when it’s a full-grown adult vs. a 13-year-old. Said teacher probably could’ve taken a bit off the gas pedal… but he didn’t. And, so… instead of scoring a try, I ended up with a broken arm. It happens, and the teacher felt awful about it, but the rumour that made the rounds was that he’d done it on purpose, to sort of get back at me for ridiculing him in class so often. I don’t believe that for a second; he was a good guy. Too good to be thrown into the wolves with the likes of us, to be honest.

But… that cast on my arm earned me a bit of a free pass for a while. I didn’t change my behaviour in class at all, but when he’d spin around to dish out 5 minutes and see it was me — at that moment casually scratching my head with my broken arm, or making faces like I was in pain — he’d pause, roll his eyes, and turn back around. Until one day, either I overdid it or he’d just had enough… this was maybe 6 weeks later. He turned around angrily, and said something like “OK, Kemeny, that’s enough of this. That’s an hour.”

What? You can’t give me an hour all at once. That’s not fair!

Fair or not, he did… but, I should add, it did little to earn back any respect; from me, or from the rest of the class. He did not return the following year.

Like I said, there comes a tipping point when the respect is gone, and it’s never coming back. And so, as usual, as seems to happen with a lot of what I’m writing about these days, I look south of the border and am noticing something that perhaps is new; perhaps that wasn’t there before. A lot of people – who still have some — are losing respect for the sitting president. It’s important to make that distinction… there’s a huge difference between the actual president… and The Office of the President. This has nothing to do with Republicans vs. Democrats. Or the office of the president. We’re just talking about the man himself. Is he worthy of the respect he feels he’s earned? Worthy of a second term?

Trump is slowly losing his core… his unshakable supporters. After his niece’s book comes out, he’ll lose more. My personal view is that the U.S. can certainly survive another 4 years of a Republican-led government; Democrat too, for that matter. But what it perhaps can’t survive is another 4 years of Trump. The country is pretty fractured at the moment, and it’s telling that it’s taking steps to fix itself in spite of the president and his desires, not because of them. He’s lost the majority of the people, and the people realize what they need to do to fix what’s broken.

But healing takes time. My arm took two months. The U.S. will take years… but it needs to be given a chance.

For those who don’t want to see a second term, and can actually do something about it… and are politically strategizing their next moves… my advice: Go in hard. It’s the only way to win and not get hurt.

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July 4, 2020

I grew up watching a show called The Dukes of Hazzard… which, in its time, was very entertaining. The two super-cool cousins with their awesome car that could virtually fly over rivers… the buffoon cop Roscoe always chasing them… the even bigger buffoon Boss Hogg — the rich guy who ran the town and for some reason had it in for the Duke boys… perhaps some old score to settle with their Uncle Jesse. And of course, Daisy Duke. That was good TV back in the early 80s.

I’m not sure of the status of that show with respect to re-runs… I expect it’s been yanked, not really for the content… but because the real star of the show was a flaming orange 1969 Dodge Charger named The General Lee… with a big confederate flag painted on its roof. As fun as the show was, some things don’t age well. As a kid, I didn’t have a clue about the implications of any of that. Neither did any of my friends, all of whom watched it too.

But today is The Fourth of July — Happy 244ᵗʰ birthday to our neighbour to the south. You know, thinking back, we’ve all had birthday years we’d all like to forget about? I suspect in hindsight, this will certainly be one of those for the U.S.

Hazzard county was in Georgia, and there’s a lot more to worry about down there these days than those two cousins in their speedy car bootlegging moonshine, or their other cousin who made famous those shorts. I wish that were their biggest problem today… but it’s not.

My birthday wish… for Hazzard country, for Georgia and for the whole country… get better soon.

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July 1, 2020

Happy Canada Day, everyone!! … and as I mentioned yesterday, as always, July 1st also marks that tipping point — the halfway point of the year. Although it seems like ten thousand, we’ve only experienced 184 days in 2020. There are 185 days left.

You know how when you go away somewhere, it always feels like you’ve been there forever… but it’s only been a few days. It has to do with how we perceive time. When you’re doing something new, you’re much more “in the moment”… and you remember it, and you remember the time it took to experience it. As opposed to things we do routinely, on auto-pilot. We barely remember it, and time just flies by. Instead of taking the usual way home, next time, veer into some side streets you’ve never navigated. The 5 or 10 minutes you add to your trip will feel like 30. Simply the result of engaging your conscious brain, which then has to actually deal with what’s being thrown at it… as opposed to letting your subconscious deal with it. This year… every day has been something new, something way out of normal, something to remember. And it’s felt like forever.

So what will the latter half of this year bring? Well, I had a long list of ideas, hopes and aspirations for 2020. I wrote those down in late December, read them on New Year’s Day… and like everyone who made resolutions and plans this year, I couldn’t possibly have been more wrong. The old “Wow… didn’t see that coming…” which gets a fair sure of use during normal times… has certainly been worn out.

I reflect today on the fact of how lucky we are… and by “we”, I mean the majority of people reading this… who I assume to be in Canada, mostly B.C. Across this province and across the entire country, there’s no better day to celebrate that. I can’t begin to tell you what this 154th year of this country will look like, though these days, we’re learning a lot more about the great — and not so great — history of this country. For all the good and bad that went into it, and especially these days. acknowledging the bad… and undertaking to do something about it… this is still without a doubt the greatest country in the world. If you don’t believe me, go visit some others. It doesn’t matter where I’ve been or what I’ve experienced… for me, coming home is always the greatest feeling. Landing at YVR and then stepping outside, and taking a deep breath of that crisp, clear air… Ill never get tired of that.

Indeed, my life in Canada began that way, as a little kid… an immigrant, ESL, a whole new culture. I remember my first day in Canada, back in July of 1974… in detail. I don’t remember the subsequent 17,000 or so days anywhere near as clearly. As per above, you get into a routine… but let’s not take it for granted, and be appreciative of what we have. It’s hard sometimes to do that, because we’re so used to it… but as we can see from around the world, it doesn’t take much to send things in the wrong direction. It’s important to remember that, especially these days… we are very fortunate, and we have a lot to celebrate.

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