TubaOrNotTuba

Today is Monday, or as we call it in Canada, Election Day. Mind you, that title applies specifically to this date; next week we revert to normal usage. And yes, the polls opened on schedule. It took me some digging into the twisted terminology of the Canada Election Act. Did you know that if this was Tuesday, and we were holding elections, we would have to pretend that it was Monday?

In just over twelve hours, our local polling station will unlock the door. Those who take the time to get in line will be given a single opportunity to effect the body politic of the nation, albeit in a very anonymous fashion. After what seems to have been “month and months”, but wasn’t quite that long, I have a question that remains unanswered. If the candidates truly believe that every vote counts, why did I escape from any contact with them? No door visit. No literature in my mailbox. It’s as if I have either been totally ignored, or prejudged (his father voted a certain way and so did his grandfather, so no chance of reeducation there). Should I be thankful or hurt? I’m going to ponder this and then try to vote without bias.

I have to salute the persistence of the political class. Back in the summer of ’18, I had to provide my email address to one of the parties, in order to show solidarity with the aspirations of a cousin. No big deal. I have learned to accept the electronic message stream as part of life in the present day.

Forget that “strategic voting” model nonsense. It can’t work. Right now, we are headed into a minority governance (a good thing, actually). The deals are in discussion, except when they’re not. You see, only two days ago, the party in third place had already picked where  it would lay its support. And today, that support has been “unpromised”. Is that even a verb? Anyhow, it’s time to remember the reality of our electoral system. You don’t get to vote for the leader. That doesn’t happen. Instead, you have a chance to choose the person most apt to represent your aspirations.

According to the calendar, we have federal elections in two weeks time. Just after I score my flu shot. And to my surprise, the noise from the campaigning, locally, has been less than a whisper. No visits to the door. No flyers in my mailbox. No anonymous phone calls. It’s as if “they” want me to find out who is running in my riding by using Google. I hope that when the post-ballot bills are presented, they will be just as minimalist. Imagine, a change of government with nothing to pay! There are still a few days left, but my hope is clear.

Now that I know, I feel better about delaying our next road trip. My package (containing a long aluminum bar) has arrived in Moncton, which bodes well for delivery tomorrow afternoon. I really dislike it when purchases get lost in transit. I know, it hasn’t happened often,  but  I still dislike it. It puts the whole “shop at home” model into that zone of discomfort which could see me heading back to local retail (yeah, right!)

With the change of season, a change of fare. Tonight, a fall stew. What I heard called “bouilli d’automne” for decades, even if we didn’t fill today’s pot with strange vegetables. For us, the foundation food groups. Beef and potatoes.  And it was good, right to the last drop.

Now that was a trailer! The new Downton Abbey movie has me anxiously waiting for the opening credits, even if there isn’t a chance that I’ll be in a cinema seat, two weeks hence. I want to see the movie; I don’t want to share the experience with hundreds of strangers (or acquaintances). There has to be a better way than this public release. How about, for example, on TV? I have surround sound, and the screen on my living room wall is new and still shiny.

I have never been in court, but I’ve watched a lot of TV. Think I’ve figured out the basic premise. And so, when the SK Supreme Court decided that a carbon tax was legitimate when levied by the federal government, I figured that would be enough. You lost, go home, etc. Nope.