Canadiana

Why I think an NDP-Liberal merger is stupid

/ Lauren / 10 Comments

Image by Sonja Kresowaty

Let me begin by saying I have no problem with the idea of a coalition between two political parties in government. Coalitions (at least in theory) mean distinct parties, representing different demographics, who view the world from different angles, working together and combining their different experiences, values, and perspectives to solve problems in government. At its best, it would mean working with the “two heads are better than one” philosophy. That sounds civil, and cooperative, and democratic, and very Canadian. If, after some future election, a coalition between the NDP and Liberal parties of Canada seemed like a prudent choice to best serve Canadians, I would be all for that. I’d probably, as the kids say, “lose my shit” with joy.

But the next election is a long ways away. The Conservative Party has a majority government. They can do just about anything they want, and providing a more immediate opportunity for Canadians to potentially choose not to continue with them is probably not among the list of Things the Conservative Party Wants To Do. So instead of picking up whispers of an NDP-Liberal coalition, lately, I’ve been picking up whispers of a merger (usually in Macleans).

And, as you can probably tell from the title of my post, I think this is stupid.

I do understand that many feel Canada’s “divided left” is much to blame for allowing the Conservative Party to become so strong, and I understand that our years of a “divided right” contributed to our being able to go so long without a right-wing government in Canada. I also understand that many people would rather see just about any party in government than the Conservatives, and see a merged NDP-Liberal party as a potentially useful tool that hasn’t yet been tried. But I still think the idea is stupid.

The people crying over a divided left seem to forget that the Liberal party is a centrist party, not a left-wing party (by Canadian standards). Far from unifying Canada’s political left into a strong and solid entity, merging the centrist Liberals and the leftist NDP would scare rightist  Liberals towards the Conservatives (not good), and would potentially send more leftist NDP voters running either towards the Green Party or to another leftist Fringe party that will seem to reflect their views better than a watered down NDP-Liberal party would (also not good). It’s like smushing two things together and having each end fall off. [Of course, I did not come up with this prediction myself. This sentiment has been echoed by several writers and columnists since this merger idea was just a twinkle in Canada’s eye. And it makes sense to me.]

Besides the aforementioned smushing and breaking, there are two more good reasons I think the idea of a merger is stupid.

Reason One: A merger would not be good for either party.

With the exception of the incredibly tragic and unfortunate death of NDP leader Jack Layton (and I agree that is a BIG exception to make), the NDP has never been in a stronger position in the House of Commons. While the Liberal and Bloc parties faltered in the May 2011 election, the NDP grew its ranks. Where Ignatieff waffled and flip-flopped, Layton stood his ground (albeit with his now-iconic cane). While the NDP clearly did not believe that the Conservative Party should form the government, they did not believe that the Liberal Party should either. A large number of Canadians made a choice in May, and they chose the New Democratic Party as the alternative to the Conservative Party. Why the NDP would want to compromise their new-found strength, and let down their voters (not to mention the memory of a leader who refused to compromise his ideals), is a mystery.

And then there is the Liberal Party. They took quite a beating in the last election. They went from being “the natural governing party” to a party that has lost its way. They have been handed a bittersweet but golden opportunity to take some time to find themselves again and define what it really means to be the Liberal Party of Canada. With the Liberals’ long history in Canadian politics, I somehow don’t think the outcome of their soul-searching will be deciding that what it means to be the Liberal Party is to be the NDP.

Reason Two: Uniting the left will essentially result in a two-party system (this is only a good reason to think a merger is stupid if you don’t believe a two-party system would be a good thing, which I don’t).

The NDP and Liberal Party are not the same party. If they were, the NDP would never have been founded in the first place. These two parties address different Canadians, with different needs and values. Not every non-Conservative voter would be content with the leftward shimmy that would be a Liberal government. Not every non-Conservative voter wants to move all the way to the NDP.

When people say it would be more useful to have a two-party system “like the States” I want to ask them if they’re crazy. I haven’t done that yet, so I will now. Are you crazy? Look at the state of US politics! You have one party (the Republicans) that seems, at this moment, like it is going to be led by total wingnuts (though we’ll see, I guess, once they choose a presidential candidate), and a second party that is SUPPOSED to be different, and is a little more palatable to the leftist voter, but is still forced to kowtow to the wingnuts in Congress on important traditional leftist issues like the environment,  reproductive rights, and marriage equality. The current US President is a Democrat, and do you see a many wins for the Stateside left-wing voter right now? I certainly don’t. If I could use only one word to sum up Obama’s presidency so far, I would choose “disappointing”. Given the opportunity to add a second word, I wouldn’t, because I’m too disappointed.  Bogged down by its own system and by a frighteningly vitriolic attitude between the parties, it seems to me the US government is doing nothing, and representing nobody.

Though our parliamentary system here in Canada is far from perfect, the availability of more than two choices ensures that Canadians have a better chance of being able to vote for the candidate and party that best represents them. That’s democracy. Voting for one of only two parties and then having whichever party wins have their hands entirely tied by the inability of the two parties to cooperate with each other, resulting in bills that do practically nothing, or require massive compromises in order to pass, is not democracy. That’s just politics. And let’s not forget that in the event of a merger, half-measures, compromises, and ass-kissing would be occurring between two sides of the new “left” party, before the party could even think of taking on the other. More politics.

There are people all over the world who are willing to fight, and to sacrifice their lives, in the pursuit of democracy for their country. No one ever died so they could have the privilege of politics in their lives.

The inevitable frustrations and disappointments of watching governments produce nothing but hot air is what turns people off politics in the first place. The more people are turned off by politics, the less they will be politically involved. The less people involved in politics, the less democracy can truly represent us. The people who elected Liberal candidates in May believed something different than I did. Despite this, I respect their decision to vote for a party that, while it is not the Conservative Party, does not best represent me or my values. I expect the same respect from Liberal supporters.

This is democracy. I want my voice to be represented, even if my voice doesn’t win. Winning will mean nothing if all I have won is the chance to watch the party I voted for compromise everything I hold dear, everything that made me vote for them in the first place. I want to see a party that cooperates with other parties (when appropriate) and conducts itself civilly, but that will be able to honour the choice I made when I voted. It’s a tall order, but anyone who thinks they belong in the House of Commons should be prepared to face that challenge.

On the flip side, anyone who is comfortable throwing the values I voted for out the window and hopping in bed with another party just to win does not deserve my vote. Because I don’t want to vote for stupid ideas, even if they win and get to form a stupid government.

Dan Mangan & 100.5 The Peak’s “Secret Show”

/ Lauren / 2 Comments

I’ve been a Dan Mangan fan since 2009 when I heard first heard the song “Robots”. The sweet-beard-faced Vancouver boy with a voice like rusty angels and lyrics that mix humour and heart managed to convince me that “robots need love too” and I was hooked.

I sang along every time one of his songs was played on 100.5 The Peak, the kickass radio station I listen to at work (listen online at thepeak.fm).

I listened to his album, “Nice, Nice, Very Nice” in my rocking chair in my old apartment many times, or in bed when I wasn’t feeling well. The music lulled me and I thought to myself, “Here is a young Canadian artist I like as much as Hawksley Workman. Possibly more.” Which doesn’t happen very often.

I saw Mr. Mangan in concert last November at the Vogue in Vancouver and was struck by what a warm, talented, and gracious performer he was. His audience loved him and he loved us and even though I was not having a great autumn I had a great evening.

Then I began to feel like I was hearing his music on the radio TOO much. I would hear the opening chords to “Road Regrets” and sigh to myself. I began to lose faith in Mr. Mangan, and wondered if he would ever light my fire again.

Then the Peak began to play a song from his new album, “Oh Fortune”. I realized that I enjoyed humming along. I thought to myself, “I suppose I’d be interested in seeing him in concert again. He was quite delightful.”

THEN the Peak said that they were having a FREE secret show with Dan Mangan on Saturday, September 24 and all I needed to do to find out the exact time and location (which would be revealed two hours before the show began) was either follow their Facebook or Twitter pages, or sign up to be a Peak VIP. I was already doing all of those things!!! PERFECT.

Turns out, Dan Mangan was performing in the Olympic Village at 1:00 pm that day. Holy banana, TC and I could ride our bikes there! So that’s what we did. And it was great. Dan Mangan is just as talented and just as gracious as I remember him. He made sure to introduce his band mates and also mention the other musical projects they were working on. His voice is, if possible, even stronger live than it is recorded. And even though I wasn’t able to sing along because I didn’t know all of it yet, his new stuff sounds lovely (“Oh Fortune” was released yesterday, BTW). And don’t worry, he played all the oldies but goodies from “Nice, Nice, Very Nice” too and I bopped the afternoon away.

Mr. Mangan kindly made my day awesomely complete and neatly bookended my Dan Mangan experience to date by finishing up with “Robots”. Nice man that he is, he noticed that two girls standing at the back had made elaborate robot costumes and he invited them to join him onstage, so they did.

This concert was simply a wonderful way to welcome the autumn on one of Vancouver’s last mild Saturdays. “Secret shows” like this help to cultivate what I think both 100.5 the Peak FM and artists like Dan Mangan are going for: a community of fans that simply love Vancouver, good music, and sharing these loves with one another.

Dan Mangan at the Peak's secret show. Photo credit: my TC

“…And we’ll change the world.” (My tribute to my hero)

/ Lauren / 3 Comments

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

All my very best,

Jack Layton

My plan last night was to write this week’s post about an episode of violence I witnessed in the Downtown East Side, and how witnessing this violence, and observing my reactions to it, changed me. I also wanted to write about a telephone call I received in April, informing me of the senseless death of a childhood friend (I say senseless not because I don’t know exactly what happened, but because I don’t know why) and how this has changed me. I am 25. I have seen violence. I have known a death. And I will never be the same. I wanted to write about that, about how growing up is about these milestones, these little deaths of innocence.

But this morning, my TC broke the news to me that Jack Layton had died. I am glad he told me because otherwise I wouldn’t have known until being told by coworkers or by Twitter. I appreciate that he knew me enough to know that hearing this news would wound me. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend”, and this is a wound that was better received from a friend. Just as I can remember exactly where I was when I heard that Dr. Suess (one of my childhood heroes) had died, I will remember exactly where I was as my TC broke the news of the death of the hero of my young adulthood.

I have been an NDP supporter since I was old enough to think about Canadian politics (about 10 or so). This is not out of line with my upbringing, and even as an adult what I have experienced, read, heard, and learned about the world has not changed my views. Is Jack Layton my hero simply because he was the leader of my favourite political party?

No.

Former NDP leader Alexa McDonough was not my hero. I’m sure she’s a great lady, who cared passionately about the same issues I do, but she was not my hero. When Jack Layton became the leader of the NDP he was not my hero. I thought he looked smarmy and I did not like his mustache (now, of course, I am very fond of the “Trustache” and I wish so badly that I could see that glorious mustache again).

Jack Layton was not a hero I chose to follow blindly. I believed in his party (or rather I believed in their values) but I did not yet believe in the NDP’s ability to effect real change in Canada. Over the years, as the numbers of orange seats in Parliament grew, Jack Layton began to earn my respect. And then he earned my trust. Yes, he represented the party that represented my values. But he also represented the idealistic and civil vision of Parliament I had had when I was younger. For example, I remember once when Jack Layton did allow a few members of the NDP to vote against the rest of the party in a matter that concerned their constituents. Some may call this weak, I would call it an understanding of how the practice of electing a Member of Parliament to represent your constituency is supposed to work. By allowing flexibility within the party, he demonstrated to Canadian voters that their vote did matter, their choice of a particular MP did matter, and that Parliament as an institution is meant to serve constituents, not party lines. I respected him for this.

During the last election, the NDP managed to side-step the Conservative mud-slinging and the go-to Liberal defense-mode. Jack Layton was able to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused on his hopes for the country. Without warning, one day his talk of “When I am Prime Minister” no longer sounded like the pipe-dream of some aging hippie with a 70s mustache, it sounded like an exciting possibility. When few Canadians believed, Jack Layton did. And then I did too. I felt that my vote had mattered. I felt that I was part of something. For the first time, even though frightened of the Conservative majority, I felt that we were heading to something better, that Harper’s majority was the dark before the light, and that one day Canada really would be the country I thought it was when I was a child. In interviews and public events, Jack Layton seemed to demonstrate a genuine warmth and amiability, qualities that eluded Stephen Harper and Michael Ignatieff. I trusted that he meant what he said, and I was not afraid of what he would or would not do for my country.

When I heard that Jack Layton was sick again, my first thought, instead of a concern for his health, was “No, he can’t be. We NEED him.” And this means I had not learned enough. It’s not enough to believe in Jack Layton. Jack unfortunately could not be with us forever. It’s not enough to put your faith and trust in one person and hope they’ll take care of everything. They can’t. Though I do wish with all my heart that Jack Layton was still here, and healthy, I don’t know that I would say at this point that “we need him.” We need us. What Canada needs is for people who think “we need Jack Layton” to realize that what they need is themselves. We need to demand the same level of dedication, passion, and accountability that Jack Layton demonstrated from all of our politicians. We need to demand this by voting, by joining parties, by examining ourselves and deciding what we believe in. We need to stop sitting back and thinking that one amazing man with a mustache and a dream is the answer to our problems. Though Jack Layton was a true leader, and though he was the person in whom I had placed my hopes, what I need now that he is gone is not Jack Layton. What I need, what we need, is to emulate what we admired about Jack Layton, to demand this of ourselves and others.

I’m afraid to post this because this means I will have to be less lazy. This means I will have to move from thinking and speaking (and blogging) to doing. This means maybe I will have to examine myself and my values, and take stock of what I’m willing to sacrifice (time? money? energy?) to help protect and champion these values.

And so here I am. I am 25 years old and I am changed. I realize now that I had a hero only after I discovered he was gone. I realize now that I wasn’t doing enough. I recognize that the world I live in, the world I affect with my actions every day, is the same world that includes violence in Vancouver’s Downtown East Side and the same world that includes the far-too-early death of a childhood friend. This is the world that includes the death of my heroes and the loss of my innocence. This is the same world Jack Layton was fighting for.

Is it too much to hope that if the world was better, I might not have seen what I saw, or lost my friend as soon as I did? Maybe. Maybe it’s ridiculous and idealistic. But then, I once thought that voting NDP was a little ridiculous and idealistic (even though I would do it every time). My hero proved me wrong. I would love to prove him right.

Mourners leave messages for Jack Layton in Nathan Phillips Square, Toronto. Photo: Sonja Kresowaty

Adventures in BC: Sunshine Coast

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

I LOVE BC!

I get very disappointed sometimes when I am around people who were born in BC and have become, somehow, immune to its charms and beauty. ARE YOU PEOPLE ALL CRAZY??? Look at the mountains! Look at those giant boulders and pieces of tree lying willy nilly all over the place! Look at those ferns! And for the love of all that is good and holy, TAKE A LOOK AT THAT MOTHER-LOVIN’ OCEAN!

Since graduating from my BFA in 2009 and getting a job (i.e. since having money) I have been slowly but surely exploring this beautiful province (as much as I can without regular access to a car, at any rate). Last weekend my parents (who were visiting from Saskatchewan) and I made a trip up to Sechelt on the Sunshine Coast to visit some family friends for the night.

Molly's Reach is very important for Beachcomber fans. Photo: Daina Zilans

Though the Sunshine Coast is technically part of the BC mainland, the best way to get there from Vancouver is to take the Langdale ferry from Horseshoe Bay. The ferry terminal is actually relatively easy to get to from downtown if you hop on the 257 Horseshoe Bay Express bus (get the schedule on the Translink BC website). The ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Langdale only takes 40 min and it’s a beautiful trip past Bowen Island and through the other little islands dotting the coast.

The old TV show “Beachcombers” (Wikipedia that show!) was filmed in Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast and though I don’t recall ever watching the show I did spend most of my visit combing the beach for pretty rocks and soaking up the gorgeous scenery.

But enough of my stupid words. Let’s look at some pictures!

The coast we visited appears to be made up mostly of granite (the lighter rock above) with streaks of basalt (the grey rock). Or so our gracious host told me. The rest of the shoreline is covered in the smaller rounded rocks you see in the photos. When the waves crash against the shore, the pebbles scour out the bigger rocks and create the interesting smooth coastline I spent all morning clambering over.

In the afternoon we went to Roberts Creek to see their shore and also the site of the community mandala. Apparently, every year an artist designs the shape of the mandala and it is painted in white. Then visitors and members of the community get to come on down and help paint the mandala that will remain in Roberts Creek all year.

I thought it was a nifty idea and a wonderful way to build community or, if you’re a visitor, a respectful way to leave your mark in an area you’ve enjoyed.

A quiet corner in the Gumboot

After visiting the mandala site we ate at the Gumboot Restaurant in Roberts Creek. My Thai salad was good (with a great peanut sauce), not excellent, but I appreciated their commitment to sourcing their ingredients locally (mostly from their very own garden!) and I also liked their homey atmosphere and colourful art. They actually had tables set up in the garden outside (not just on the patio, in the actual grass) which was another nice touch.

After lunch we went back to the shore near my hosts’ house for a little bit of swimming. I enjoyed baking on the rocks on the beach and taking dips in the (fairly cold) sea. I will mention that due to the pebbly nature of the shore, those nerdy water shoes you used to have when you were a kid are HIGHLY RECOMMENDED and definitely protected my poor little feet from rock-induced harm.

Putting on my water shoes. Photo: Daina Zilans

This garter snake likes the beach too, don't you little buddy? Photo: Daina Zilans

I can’t think of any good way to segue into a conclusion to this post so I’ll just say thank you to our hosts: thank you for the excellent BBQ shrimp and the homemade whiskey and for showing us the sites in this beautiful bit of BC that you call home. I hope you don’t mind but I have a feeling I’ll be wanting to take advantage of your hospitality again sometime in the future.

If you have any tips or suggestions about parts of BC I should visit please leave a comment. I’m no millionaire so tips about affordable places to stay are always appreciated. 🙂

Wreck Beach Skinny Dip 2011: Nifty Gets Nude

/ Lauren / 6 Comments

Wreck Beach: Forgot your swimsuit? That's just fine.

I had never been skinny dipping before. I had always imagined my first skinny dip would be some romantic or scandalous affair out at a mountain chalet, stripping off in the dead of night and slipping unseen into some glacial lake (I guess in my imaginings I was a wealthy and influential woman with access to a chalet), or perhaps a nice dunk in my birthday suit with a few inebriated friends at a lakeside cottage in the dark.

I never imagined I would be skinny dipping for the first time in the glaring light of day with 625 other naked people, but on July 2, that’s exactly what I did: stripping down to my nothings for the 2011 Wreck Beach Skinny Dip. (My TC and a spunky gal pal joined me, meaning I only had to expose my naked self to 623 total strangers.)

The Wreck Beach Skinny Dip is an annual event organized by the Wreck Beach Preservation Society (WBPS). This year, for each skinny dipper in the water, an anonymous donor pledged to donate $2 to the WBPS. As I was leaving the beach, an organizer told me the donor had decided to up their donation to $5 per bather. I was also told that the Notary Public enlisted for the occasion had counted 626 naked bathers this year, meaning we handily beat last year’s record of 489 (and my bum was among ’em!). Considering this and the gorgeous sun we had that day, I would call the WBPS’s bare-naked event a success.

Judging by their website, it seems the mission of the WBPS centres around two main concerns:

  1. Preserving the natural beauty of Wreck Beach and preventing or lessening hazards to its environment.
  2. Preserving the right of visitors at Wreck Beach to enjoy the beach au naturel, and taking action and voicing concerns regarding development in nearby areas or changes in legislation which may make this right unlawful.

No gawking!

I was introduced to Wreck Beach only this spring by my TC, and I must say that since my first visit I have been completely in love, forsaking all other Vancouver beaches, forever and ever. Here’s why (in another numbered list!):

  1. The beach is huge, and beautiful. Bald eagles soar over tree-covered cliffs, and on clear days you can see the mountains of Vancouver Island.
  2. Wreck Beach is quiet. It’s a long hike down from the road, but it’s worth it. Once on the beach, there are no cars or buildings within sight or earshot. The loudest sound you’ll hear is the lovely group of musicians who seem to favour the Police and the Beatles, playing their guitars (and trumpet!) with the kind of gusto you can only really find in people who are doing what they love, TOTALLY NAKED. When I’m lying in the sun at Wreck, I’ve completely left the city behind, and I’ve never been so relaxed.
  3. I get to sunbathe topless. That’s right, I said it. Totally topless. IT’S GREAT. The greatest part is that I can be topless or naked and nobody cares. Unlike Vancouver’s other beaches which seem to be covered in hyper-sexualized teenagers in teeny-weeny gold lamee American Apparel bikinis, at Wreck Beach, no one cares what you’ve got or what your body looks like. The beach is clothing-optional, not courtesy-optional, and gawking at others or making comments is discouraged (read WBPS’s Beach Etiquette to find out how you can be nude, not lewd). I feel less exposed naked at Wreck than I do in a swimsuit at English Bay.

2011 has so far been a year of discovery for me; a year of discovering BC and especially of discovering Vancouver, my adopted home. The relaxed, conscientious, and accepting atmosphere at Wreck Beach is a wonderful representation of the spirit of this city and I sincerely hope it will continue to be so.

And now for a poll! I used to think nude beaches were weird, and now I think they’re great! Your thoughts?

P.S. If you’re wondering how the water was on July 2, it was effing freezing. But so refreshing.

Salt Spring 3: Nifty Takes Flight

/ Lauren / 2 Comments

The first weekend in June dawned bright and beautiful and my TC and I took off (quite literally) for another dream-like weekend on Salt Spring Island. Instead of sailing on the slow pokey ferry, we enjoyed a gorgeous 25-minute flight with Salt Spring Air.

I’m not gonna lie: what masquerades as a blog post this week will actually be my attempts to make everyone jealous of my awesome life by sharing photographs of my splendid adventure.

Salt Spring Air - cutest planes in the west

Burrard Inlet - Look at all my boats!

Aerial view of the Lions Gate Bridge

Pacific Ocean - more boats!

YVR - Ever seen a plane taking off from above? I have!

Gulf Islands ho! (Nearing our destination....)

Helloooooooooooo Salt Spring!

Upon our arrival (and a very smooth touchdown) in Ganges, we promptly dined with my TC’s family at a quaint little restaurant just off the marina called “Cafe Auntie Pesto’s” (250-537-4181). Punny name notwithstanding, Auntie Pesto’s is actually a very fine (and slightly pricier) establishment. The service was excellent (our server was attentive and prompt without being annoying) and my Muscovy duck confit (with asparagus, spinach, and Gorgonzola ravioli) was excellent too. Magnifique.

Our first morning on Salt Spring was a scorcher (compared to the very cold spring we’ve had on the West Coast this year) so we made good use of sun screen before visiting the Saturday Market. I avoided buying myself anything (I tell myself I don’t need anything!), but I did have the pleasure of sitting on the grass in the sun eating a fabulous Ukrainian smokey (and the yam fries belonging to my TC’s four-year-old cousin). For dessert, I decided to consume a daunting creation called a “Dough Boy” which is essentially dough fried in hot hot oil and covered in sugar and cinnamon. My arteries cried but my taste buds were delighted.

Dough Boy: A heart attacky snack

Not surprisingly, I reserved much of the rest of the afternoon for napping and sitting.

Time flies when one is having fun, and alas, alack, our Sunday morning came too soon. Luckily, we didn’t take wing again until 5 o’clock so my TC and I were able to take in some capital-N Nature courtesy of the neighbourhood walking trails. TC took all the photos of the nature excursion. I just used my eyeballs.

Salt Spring sunshine breaking through the canopy

The trees are so big and I am so small!

We wandered off the trail and frolicked in the woods. I pretended I was a dinosaur, naturally.

TC thought it would be a good idea for me to climb this tree. And it was. Until I tried to get down.

I would like to tell you more about my latest adventure in the Gulf Islands, but I don’t believe I can be more eloquent than these images can be. If a picture is truly worth a thousand words, let’s just say you’ve just finished reading a 12 000-word post about my weekend.

And that makes you a good friend.

Election 2011: A small high five and a lot of nausea

/ Lauren / 2 Comments

On May 2, 2011, Canada voted. I was nervous, I was hopeful, I was trying to be optimistic about the outcome, and I was not prepared for the results.

As the kids say, “I’m so so stoked right now” that the NDP is the official Opposition. Canada has never seen what the NDP can do when given both the power and responsibility to be the main (not fringe) voice of dissent and contrary opinion in Parliament. A party that has often largely been ignored in the past has been granted an opportunity to define itself.

I am stoked for Elizabeth May and the Green Party too. History will be made when Parliament resumes and the Green Party has a representative in the House of Commons for the first time. May will have her work on Parliament Hill cut out for her. It’s work she’s been chasing for years and I say good for her for finally getting a crack at it.

In a weird way, I am a little bit stoked that the Liberals took such a drubbing. As a person, Michael Ignatieff is intelligent and educated and I believe he truly does care for Canada. I didn’t mind the Liberals the last time they governed either (though I was a teenager then so I’m not sure that says much). But after three years of reading my Maclean’s cover to cover and following Canadian politics online, I still had no idea what the Liberal Party, under Iggy, really stood for. Unless Maclean’s simply sucks at their Canadian politics coverage (which I will never believe), it seems to me that the Liberal party did not have a cohesive and consistent message that was memorable or vital to Canadians. A few good ideas? Yes. But a few good ideas do not a political platform make. You can blame many things for the situation the Liberals now find themselves in–the Conservative’s ceaseless character assassination of Ignatieff, a split leftist vote between the NDP and Liberal candidates that paved the way for a Conservative win, voter apathy–but at the end of the day the party just seemed lost to me. Not at all the “natural governing party” the Liberals claimed to be. Obviously they need a few years to get their poop in a pile and now they’ve got it.

I am also giving myself a little high five because the candidate I voted for won and will be representing me and my riding in Ottawa. Congratulations to me.

Now for the nausea.

For the next four and a half years, Canada will be governed by a Conservative majority. Since I align my personal beliefs more towards the political left, the policies of this government will no doubt grate against my socialist sensibilities. Even with an NDP Opposition, a majority gives the Conservatives carte blanche to pass pretty much any bill they like and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

But that’s democracy. Canada voted (well, 60% of us) and apparently the will of Canadians is a Conservative majority. Democracy means you don’t always get your way. Of course, democracy is more fun for me when I get my way, and people I disagree with don’t get theirs, but that’s not how it worked out this time. If I wanted my own way all the time I would need to become Queen of my own tiny isle, and I’m not prepared to do that right now. What really sticks in my craw about this election outcome is that the first government ever to be found in contempt of Parliament is rewarded with a majority. Clearly Canadians are not paying attention. Policy schmolicy. No matter where your beliefs fall on the political spectrum, you deserve a government that will not lie to Canada’s elected representatives.

Unless, of course, you vote for a party knowing full well they were found to be in contempt of Parliament and you just don’t care. Or, if you don’t vote at all. Then, I guess, you get the government you deserve.

I’m disappointed. Being an artist and a woman and a young single person (no middle class family benefits for me right now) who cares about social justice, I don’t think there’s anything in that blue bag for me. I love Canada and I love what it has traditionally stood for. I don’t want these things to disappear.

I am trying to be optimistic. Perhaps Harper’s Conservatives have merely been suffering from an inferiority complex and now that they have the majority they claimed they needed to govern effectively they will, in fact, govern effectively. I can only hope that now that the threat of a snap election is no longer looming they will consider the needs of all Canadians, even artsy fartsy bleeding hearts like me, and not just their traditional demographic.

Or perhaps things will get so incredibly terrible that by 2015 the 40% of eligible Canadian voters who didn’t vote this year will be prompted to finally get off their asses and participate in their country’s democracy. Or maybe I’ll move to my own tiny isle.

At any rate, Layton’s looking spunky these days, I’m sure Harper isn’t actually an evil robot, and hope springs eternal. We might be okay after all. We’ll see.

Adventures in BC: Salt Spring 2

/ Lauren / Leave a comment

Ruckle Park, Salt Spring IslandThis year, I was able to stretch the Easter holiday into a five-day weekend. Naturally, my travel companion (TC) and I headed back to Salt Spring Island the Thursday before Easter to enjoy some BC nature and awesomeness.

Good Friday was a beautiful sunny day so after a pleasant lunch at the Rock Salt Restaurant & Cafe with my TC and his sweet relations, we took a little trip to Ruckle Provincial Park, at the southeast corner of Salt Spring. My burgoyne burrito at the Rock Salt was everything I expected it to be though I think I prefer the Mexicana grilled naan I had on my last visit. Once again, the Caesar salad was beyond reproach. One note about the Rock Salt for my readers who have a powerful aversion to cilantro: many of the items on the lunch menu include cilantro aioli so read the ingredients on the menu, or ask your server, before ordering.

Ruckle Park, Salt Spring IslandRuckle Provincial Park is a lovely place for a little afternoon jaunt and I think it definitely deserves further investigation in the future. My TC’s little cousins and I spent most of our time clambering on the rocks on the seashore, looking at sea stars, barnacles, and welks (I called them snails but was corrected by my TC’s little cousin).

Love knows no colour, Sea stars, Ruckle Park, Salt Spring Island

Love knows no colour

In addition to exposure to seaside life and beautiful views, Ruckle Park provides camping year round (even in the off-season for adventurous campers who don’t mind that several of the park’s amenities would be unavailable). Unfortunately, it is not possible to reserve individual campsites at Ruckle Park so if you’re planning a weekend camping trip on Salt Spring be prepared to duke it out for the first-come, first-served sites.

I was not obligated to duke it out for off-season camping because once again I had the hippest, happenest hosts in the whole world who housed and fed us for four nights. On the evening of good Friday they took us to the village of Ganges for dinner at the Oystercatcher Seafood Bar & Grill. I remembered that my TC had amazing fish and chips the last time we were there so this time I got a plate of my very own. Hooray! Amazing! The raspberry mojitos were amazing too. A downside of the Oystercatcher that I have not only heard about but read online as well is that the service there is quite slow. Which is fine if you want to spend a long evening with good friends and good food and good drinks looking over the water. Less fine if you’re out with hungry kids who don’t find adult conversation stimulating. I enjoyed myself all the same. I even coloured a picture!

Saturday dawned warm and sunny. A perfect day to check out Salt Spring’s Saturday Market, held in Ganges every Saturday from April to October. With such great weather the place was buzzing. Kids with painted faces and balloon animals were everywhere. I spent a goodly amount of time sitting in the sun on a grassy knoll thinking warm sunny thoughts and eating a real blackberry popsicle. Afterwords I did some browsing in the market and was impressed by the sheer amount of goods for sale: jewellery, crockery, textiles, soaps, food…. I wanted to buy about a hundred things but I remembered just in time that I don’t actually need anything new and my wallet stayed put in my purse. Financial crises averted. I enjoyed the atmosphere, and the sun, and looking at neat things, and a blackberry popsicle. I’ll buy myself some crockery some other time. Like when I have a fancy cheese that would necessitate the fancy cheese dish I wanted.

I slept in on Easter Sunday and so I missed watching my TC’s little cousins have their egg hunt. It was a good thing for me that the Easter Bunny left me chocolate right there on the bureau that I didn’t even have to hunt for. It was unfortunately grey and rainy most of the day, but these were perfect conditions for staying inside to rehearse and perform a play written by my TC’s 8-year-old cousin. This particular piece of theatre was about four siblings who rise above their poverty by forming a hit rock band. I got to “play” the drums for our musical finale: an airband to “Judy is a Punk” by the Ramones. Our performance was a resounding success and I was able to keep a copy of the script, signed by the precocious playwright.

On Monday we made one more stop at the Rock Salt for coffee and desserts before boarding our ferry home. It was a delicious send-off (lime cheesecake!) but I was not looking forward to real life (and going back to work) in the city.

I sleep so well and feel so relaxed when I’m in the Gulf Islands that I never want to leave. It makes me think I should just quit my 9 to 5 job, pack my things, catch the next boat to Salt Spring, pitch a tent and make my living by…………um………..

Crap.

I guess I’ll keep my 9 to 5-er in the big city for now, and really get serious about my plans to win the lottery. In the meantime, I will try to be comforted by the fact that Salt Spring Island really isn’t that far away. Ho hum.

P.S. Check out the view of the Gulf Islands from my hosts’ backyard:

Gulf Islands, Salt Spring IslandSweet.

Sorry Artsies: I am a closet sports fan

/ Lauren / 1 Comment

Here’s the thing: I don’t watch televised sports. Ever. Well, maybe if the people I’m with are watching and we’re at a pub or in someone else’s living room, but even then I’m usually thinking about unicorns or what I read in Maclean’s that day or quietly getting drunk/trying not to fall asleep. When I’m at home alone, I do not turn on the TV to watch “the game”. Not for the CFL (go Riders!), not for the NHL (go Canucks!). Never. I don’t know any stats. I don’t know anyone’s number. I don’t even know the rules.

If this is true (which it is), how the hell can I claim to be a sports fan? Simple: I want the teams I am a fan of to win. When they do, I feel good. When the buses flash “GO CANUCKS GO” I get a warm fuzzy feeling inside. A feeling that tells me that despite all the things that make the citizens of Vancouver different and diverse, we can all rally around our team(s).

Unless of course, you are a Saskatchewan Rough Riders fan (which I am) and the BC Lions are winning. Boo.

Green is the colour!

In 2009 I had the opportunity to attend my first CFL game with some friends. The Riders were playing the Lions and I was feeling a little conspicuous in my bright green sweatshirt. The closer we got to the stadium, however, the better I felt. There were green-clad Rider fans everywhere! Many were Saskatchewan ex-pats like me, but some actually drive/fly all the way from Saskatchewan to support the Riders wherever they play. Though we ultimately lost that game, we pulled off some kind of thrilling maneuver in the second half to tie it up and I recall being high-fived by a fellow Rider fan that I didn’t know very well and feeling really great about it. And then we lost. But still. That high five is what counts.

When I was stuck in a long line at London Gatwick last May, waiting to fly back to Vancouver, the conversation moving up and down the line among Vancouverites was not about Iceland or the ash cloud (we were only delayed a few hours fortunately) or the lovely things we had seen in Europe. We were all asking each other if anyone knew how the Canucks were doing. It was a feather in my cap to be able to tell someone that we had just lost to Chicago and needed to win the next game to remain in the playoffs. As it turns out, we did not remain in the playoffs. But being able to bond with perfect strangers over something other than hating the airport is what counts.

I think what really appeals to me about sports fandom is that it seems to be one of the last bastions of community, ritual, and tradition in an increasingly individual-centric kind of society. Gone are the days when the snowshoe dance/ husking bee/ box social was the event of the season for an entire neighbourhood. Gone are the days when everyone in a community belonged to the same clubs and wore their pins, ribbons, or uniforms with a sense of collective pride.

In many ways, the loss of this kind of “group think” is very positive, especially for people or groups who had been traditionally marginalized or ostracized. Now the idea is that we should all be free to be who we want to be, and pursue our individual goals and dreams. This is all very well and good, but it can get a little lonely. I think we all crave something that unites us, something we can cheer for and be excited about and support, something that exists outside politics or religion or anything else that currently divides us. I think sports fandom has filled this hole.

Think about it: the Stanley Cup playoffs are coming. At what other time of year do romantic partners and employers all over Canada endure the hideous/glorious ritual that is known as the “Playoff Beard”, clearly visible on the faces of hockey fans? In what other situation would the statement, “I can’t shave my hideous beard or my team will LOSE” not be considered totally ridiculous?

While some believe sports fandom encourages drunken hooliganism (which I’m sure it does), it is also one of the last socially acceptable ways in which an increasingly “cool” society can publicly display their excitement and enthusiasm for something. Do you want to dress all in one or two colours? Wear a cape? Paint your face, or (gasp!) get a logo tattooed on your body? High five (or occasionally hug) similarly dressed strangers on the Sky Train? Is it for the team you love? Because if it is, it’s okay, and it’s awesome.

Look Ma! I support an NHL hockey team!

This is why, despite not having watched a single Canucks game this year, I recently purchased a Canucks t-shirt on a lovely spring day. This is why I donned the shirt on the next game day, even though I wasn’t going anywhere. I’m a lazy fan, sure, but at least I’m stylish.

It’s not about hockey or football for me, or about the individual players or how well they play. It’s about an entire city getting behind something. It’s about communally cheering (or swearing), and being proud (or disappointed) together. And yes, it’s cliche, but it’s about heart. The collective heart of a group of people who all want the same thing is quite rare nowadays, and it moves me.

To my artsy friends, I’m sorry. I know for all intents and purposes I act like I don’t give a crap about sports…but damn, do I ever want Vancouver to win the Stanley Cup this year. And you’re just going to have to be okay with that. After years of denial, I finally am.

P.S. Go Whitecaps FC!

Adventures in BC: Salt Spring Island

/ Lauren / 7 Comments

I think by now I have made it pretty clear that I love Vancouver, and East Van in particular. But sometimes, this city is a drag. Day after day of grey sidewalks and grey skies makes even my imagination grey.

Enter a very appealing proposal that I use my recent three-day weekend to go to Salt Spring Island. I had never been before. I said yes. I may have even said, “Hurrah!”.  I was pleased.

Apparently, one can take a little float plane from downtown and be on Salt Spring in under an hour. The CHEAP way to get to Salt Spring involves ferries and several hours. On the way there we took the ferry from Tsawwassen to Swartz Bay and hopped onto what can only be described as a cute but dumpy little ferry to Fulford Harbour. Once landed we were literally twenty paces from a lovely little eatery called the Rock Salt Restaurant & Cafe.

I wish I had taken a picture of the interior of this restaurant: yellow walls, big windows, and stained glass everywhere. It was a children’s drawing come to life. Although Salt Spring was all aflutter that Raul Pacheco had recently posted a very positive review of the Rock Salt’s Burger Deluxe in his blog Hummingbird604, I decided to go with the Mexicana naan sandwich and it was delightful. I don’t consider myself much of a foodie but I think it’s worth noting that the Caesar salad that came with it was good too. I have been to many restaurants that served great main courses but sub-par salads and the Rock Salt was not one of them.

The view from the home we stayed in.

Our hosts for the weekend were relatives of my travel companion: a very hip couple and their two adorable and energetic daughters. Within 20 minutes of arriving at their house, we had listened to three radio plays, watched two hip hop dance routines, and one incredibly literal sock puppet show. I really must take the time now to thank our hosts whose warmth, humour, and hilarious children made my weekend.

My first evening in Salt Spring was spent in good company, dozing in front of a wood stove and listening to Joanna Newsom. There was also some drinking of Glenmorangie. I know nothing about scotch. Apparently this was a very good scotch. I believe I have tried scotch, once before, on Mayne Island (what is it about the Gulf Islands and scotch?), and I had a few sips of the Glenmorangie this time, but unfortunately, not having acquired a taste for scotch, the quality and the glory was a little lost on me. Made me feel quite warm though. Warm and tingly. And oh-so-fancy.

I slept through my nights in Salt Spring in the kind of deep dark you can only have far far away from the city. The wind was howling in the trees and I was snuggled in a comforter. I cannot think of a more cozy arrangement.

As beautiful as Salt Spring Island is, one cannot control the weather. In March, the weather is rainy. This meant a lot of indoor visiting (more dance routines) and naps. My little outing for this particular adventure on Salt Spring was a trip to the village of Ganges to have lunch and poke around in the shops.

One shop that was a particular favourite of mine was Black Sheep Books, a used book store with two floors. This place is literally stuffed floor to ceiling with books: new(ish) books, antique books, travel books, children’s books, all carefully shelved in their own labelled sections. The shop also had several out of the way nooks, perfect for those who have always dreamed of having a romantic tryst in a book store. The upper floor houses a collection of books and original prints by Nick Bantock, an artist and author of the “Griffin & Sabine” trilogy. According to Wikipedia (and our hosts for this adventure), Bantock is based in Salt Spring. Sadly, I did not see Nick Bantock (whose work I know through his book “Averse to Beasts”) but I feel as though I have had a brush with literary fame all the same.

At the marina in Ganges. I love boats.

For lunch, we stopped in at the Oystercatcher Seafood Bar & Grill. I had the Biltmore Chicken Burger which was fabulous (can’t resist any sandwich with pesto) but I think next time I will order the fish and chips. I tried a piece of my travel companion’s and it was perfection, as far as fish and chips go. The texture and the taste were exactly what they should be. It’s probably worth heading back to Salt Spring just for that.

It was a sad day when we had to say good-bye to our amazing hosts and head back to the busy city. This time, we took the ferry that stops on Mayne and Galiano before heading to Tsawwassen. The trip between the islands was beautiful but the crossing over the Strait of Georgia was a little rough for my liking. I spent a lot of that time squeezing my eyes shut and wishing I had taken the float plane.

Seasickness aside, if I had to sum my adventure up in one word I would say it was restorative. I am not from the city. A city is not the home of my soul. No city, no matter how beautiful, can make up for how fully relaxed I felt the moment I reached Salt Spring. I have a feeling my little weekend excursion was the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship with a charming and beautiful island.

Passing through the Gulf Islands on the ferry home