BUSH-LITE

BUSH-LITE

Willard comes into the shop every morning for his double-Americano sitting in the parking lot, one leg wrapped around the other, reading the paper and smoking, his dog Earnest at his side. I’ve learned not to engage Willard in the topic of politics. It doesn’t matter what’s happening in Parliament, he some how interprets it as a slap in the face to him personally. Willard is in a perpetual state of outrage.
The other day he came into The Shop looking even more haggard than usual. “Are you okay?” I asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders like there were no tomorrow. “I was called a pedophile last night and I really resent it.”
I had the feeling he was exaggerating a little. Against better judgment I asked, “You personally were accused of being Pedophile?”
“No. That Conservative MP in Ontario did. She said protecting homosexuals under Hate Crimes laws would protect pedophiles.”
I knew it. I had seen and heard the comments on the news myself. It pissed me off, but I just figured the woman was nuts and that she wouldn’t get elected after a comment like that. Another Conservative MP compared abortion to the decapitation of Nicholas Berg. But that was before the debates. Since then, the Conservatives have gained momentum.
Neil, the owner of The Shop had been trying to get me to vote Liberal, but I was steadfast about Jack Layton and the NDP. “I’m sick of the bullshit. It’s time we went in a different direction. I’m don’t want to be a factory outlet for the United States anymore.”
“But he’ll turn us into a Socialist country,” Neil said, counting the days receipts. “He’ll have us standing in line for toilet paper!”
“He’ll restore our reputation in the global community.”
“Go ahead, waste your vote,” he mocked. “Just don’t vote for Stephen Harper and the Conservatives.”
“Not a chance.”
I couldn’t believe it when I had to eat crow a couple of days later. Neil and I had assumed our natural positions; I was at the grill cooking and he was behind me, counting cash on the counter.
“I watched the French language debates last night,” I told him.
“And…”
“I think I’m going to vote Liberal.”
“You love Paul Martin!”
“I still love Jack Layton – he’s the closest thing this country has to a Kennedy. But in light of what’s going on in the world, I think Martin is the safest bet. I like Layton’s ideology, but I think it’s too much all at once. And Stephen Harper scares the fuck out of me. He wants foreign investment in the CBC! Our crown fucking jewel! I’m convinced he’s going to attack gays by using the pedophile angle. The only reason I’m going to vote Liberal is so the Conservatives don’t win a majority government.”
The next day at work I complained to Neil that I was exhausted. “What were you doing?” Neil is convinced I spend all my free time at The Pilsner.
“I was up late watching the English debates. Did you watch them?” I did have a couple of beer at The Pilsner but I didn’t see the need in telling him that.
“No. I was at my kid’s birthday party.”
“They re-played them again at nine. What kind of a Canadian are you?”
“You’re going to vote Conservative?”
“Hell no! But it’s the beginning of the end for the Liberals.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
And it was. Paul Martin just couldn’t withstand the attacks he took from the other candidates over the Sponsorship Scandal and broken promises.
I took Ollie to register to vote on Wednesday. I had been bugging him about it for a couple of weeks. “Who cares?” he said, dismissing me with a wave of a spatula.
“Dude, there is too much going on in the world to be ambivalent.”
“I guess you’re right. Who do I vote for?”
“NDP,” I want to say, but I didn’t feel it was my place to.” Anyone but the Conservatives.”
We made plans to go down to the election office on his day off. He actually called me to come get him. We smoked a joint before we went. “What do I need again?”
“Photo ID and a signature. “
“Does my bathhouse membership count?”
“I think your Care Card will do.”
We walked on the sunny side of Pendrill St towards the election office. “So who should I be voting for again?”
“Normally I would say the NDP, but I think it’s important to vote Liberal. It looks like the Conservatives are going to win the election but we don’t want them in the majority. We’re basically voting to steal votes from the Conservatives.”
“I hate politics. I don’t follow it, I don’t get it, and I don’t care.”
“This is the first time I can vote in almost ten years – I wasn’t allowed to vote when I lived in the States. This election means a lot to me. It’s too bad I have to vote strategically instead of with my heart.”
Waiting for Ollie to register at the election office, who should walk out of the elevator but none other than Witch Hazel herself buttoned up in her reindeer sweater and toque. I watched her go up to the reception desk. I could just imagine her mouthing, “I’m colnd!”
Yesterday I went outback for a smoke. I had to step over Earnest who was blocking the door. Willard looked up from the paper spread over his crossed legs. His eyes rolled back into his head like he had just died on an operating table. I knew he was dying to talk politics. It was hot out, but the parking was still in the shade and I could smell the ocean in the breeze. The smallest opening would give Willard license to start in on one of his political diatribes. For once I was in the mood for it. As mad as I was about the potential outcome of the election, I could never be as stark raving mad as Willard.
“I guess it’s over for Martin,” I said.
“It just pisses me off that Stephen Harper is going to become Prime Minister!”
“He could get voted out in six months.”
“If he wins a minority government.”
“We can only hope.”
“Harper is recruiting people from Brian Mulroney’s old cabinet! He’s going to pull out of Kyoto and he wants more off-shore drilling!”
“It’s Bush-Lite.”
“It IS Bush-Lite. Can you imagine what it’s going to be like with Stephen Harper as Prime Minister if Bush gets re-elected?”
“Those Iraq War deserters won’t be getting refugee status here, that’s for sure.”
“And the only reason he’s going to win is Ontario wants to punish the Liberals. The West gets shafted every time!”
“It isn’t right. But who knows? I think, at heart, Canada is not a right-wing country and once Harper reveals his true colours, he won’t last very long. It’s happened before – remember Jim Turner? Joe Clark? Kim Campbell? “
“Remember Brian Mulroney?”
“All we can do is hope for the best right?”
This evening I saw a clip of Brian Mulroney’s son, Ben, interviewing Michael Moore who was in Toronto promoting “Fahrenheit 9/11” Michael Moore was telling Ben, “If you think your father set us back a few years, the combination of Stephen Harper and George W. Bush will set us back a hundred!”
One of the appeals of Canada is that there is a clear separation of Church and State. It really made me uncomfortable that the Religious Right has so much influence in American Policy. Then along came the Conservative Party. It just goes to show you can’t outrun the Right. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

GarpinBC