Anchor Struck

Since Canada stop making pennies in 2013, I can no longer put in my two cents worth, so I want to put in my two dollars (“toonie” to Canucks) worth about the truck convoy debacle on the border. The hysteria is ebbing as the demonstrators go home, but a lot of damage has been done and it will take a while to sort it all out. The Ottawa police chief has resigned. The Trudeau administration has gotten a right good jolt, but that’s crucial to democracy.

As cooler heads start to prevail, I hope that some weighty investigations will follow. I’m quite concerned about American involvement. The Confederate flags were especially troublesome. Growing up in Louisiana, I often heard that the South was gonna rise again, but I never expected to see it pop up above the 49th Parallel. The Trump signs suggested that ignorance and bigotry knows no bounds.

I suppose that could be expected from such an ill-conceived and quixotic venture, the bounce castles aside. I think the convoy hoped that truckers on the U.S. side would join them. But they didn’t, really. Even if the restrictions had been lifted, they still couldn’t have gotten into the states. The protest is about commerce, yet it causes layoffs and lost revenue.

I was dismayed by the gas can runners intent on keeping the truckers warm. What an immense waste of a precious resource, and a wholly avoidable addition to air pollution.

But above all else, I was disgusted by the term “freedom fighters”. As a veteran, it grieves my soul when some clowns in faux battle gear believe they’re fighting the good fight, or fighting at all. If you consider yourself a warrior for that, kindly check your reality. Winning a paint ball tournament doesn’t qualify you. It dishonours those who died for national causes, whether they supported them or not.

It’s like pissing on a war memorial. Oh, wait. The protesters did that, too.