30 years ago but never to be forgotten

Geneviève Bergeron (1968-1989)
Hélène Colgan (1966-1989)
Nathalie Croteau (1966-1989)
Barbara Daigneault (1967-1989)
Anne-Marie Edward (1968-1989)
Maud Haviernick (1960-1989)
Maryse Laganière (1964-1989)
Maryse Leclair (1966-1989)
Anne-Marie Lemay (1967-1989)
Sonia Pelletier (1961-1989)
Michèle Richard (1968-1989)
Annie St-Arneault (1966-1989)
Annie Turcotte (1969-1989)
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (1958-1989)

May they rest in eternal peace. And may they ever remind us of the need to eradicate violence against women, and indeed, hate in general.

- 30 -

The Hate -- Original Song #38

As we approach the sad 30th anniversary of a brutal hate crime that left a stain on my beautiful city, I find to my surprise this song of mine, written many years ago, absent from the history of this blog. No longer. RIP, Joe

Well you know something's been eating me
Concerns something that fell from your mouth last week
I heard you say, "He's one of those"
Made me think of a youth named Joe Rose

They killed him on a bus you see
Along with their humanity
And I doubt this song will change a thing
But maybe I'll feel better if I sing

I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on

Rose's dad doesn't understand
He loved his son like any man
But the boy was gay so they hated him
In this city whose motto means live and let live
And it's wrong to think all bird are doves
But those who hate can also love
And if there's one thing I can't trust
It's when you separate folks into them and us

I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it just keeps going on
I don't know why they hate so strong
But it's gone on far too long

- 30 -

Amazing CHé

Amazing CHé
How sweet the sound
Of Habs fans leaving their seats

In the K, he was lost
But with the CH, was found
We give praise to Bergevin

'Twas Captain K that taught
The PP to click
Leko and BBQ, my fears relieved
How precious did that CHé appear
The OT I first believed

Through many Rangers, and Arrogant Fuckface
Our boys have already come
'Tis TFS that brought us play-offs thus far
And CJv2 will lead us CHome

Lord Stanley has promised a Cup to the team
That 16 playoff wins secures
It will the CH goal and passion be
As long as the game endures

When we've been there in 24 other years
Parades shining in the June sun
We've measured days left to ride TFS's saves
Boys, now, let's get it done

Amazing Shea
How sweet the sound
Of Rags getting soundly checked
For PFK, we had love
But now, BBQ and CHé
And the return of SuperPleXXX

If Y(emelin) Should Fall From Grace with Claude (apologies to the Pogues)

If Y Should Fall from Grace with Claude
After being cleanly beaten
If Y’s muscled off the puck
And his passes fail completely

Let him sit Claude, let him sit Claude
Let Y sit up with the press where the hotdogs come with fries

This Cup was always ours 
Was the pride of Montrealers
It belongs to the Habs
Not to any of Buttman’s fuckers
It’s coming back here boys, coming back here boys!
Dump the Buttman in the south where the hockey fans run dry

Keep GCHuck at C
Let those Forum ghosts direct him
If he shoots from open ice
KidA or LB will deflect them
Into the goal boys, into the goal boys!
Win this town a twenty-fifth Cup
Where the Frenchmen used to fly

If Y Should Fall from Grace with Claude
After being cleanly beaten
Harley’s raring to go
And he passes pretty cleanly

Let him sit Claude, let him sit Claude
Let Y sit up with the press where the hotdogs come with fries


POGUE MAHONE!!!

GYFHG

Winter's Coming (apologies to Arcade Fire and their Neighbourhoods #1 (Tunnels)

And if the snow buries my CH neighbourhood
And if Che is flying
Then he'll saucer a pass
From his stick blade to PatCHes
Yeah, a pass, from his stick blade to PatCHes

KidA has climbed out of the cellar
And skated up the middle
The middle of the ice
And since there's no one but the goalie around
He'll stay in the blue paint long
And forget how how he used to blow
And then his skin gets thicker
From spraying that goalie with snow

You changed all the lead
In that rebuilt hand
As the puck comes in
KidA shovels it right in

Then Julien tried to fix our PK
Cuz Price had forgotten the way to
The way to shut teams down
But somehow, TFS remembered his goalposts
And how to cover his five-hole
And his catlike trapper hand
Then, the D remembered how to skate strong
And how to cover the man

MB changed all the smurfs
Getting knocked around
As the trades came in

King and Thor came thundering

Purify the CHolours, beef up the 4th line
Purify the CHolours, put scorers in the top two lines
And spread the ashes of Arrogant Fuckface
Over this CHeart of mine!

GOHABSGO

- 30 -

Stand Down Therrien (apologies to the English Beat)

I said I see no goals

I see only losses

I see no chance of a play-off tomorrow

So stand down eMTy

Stand down please

Stand down Therrien

I say stand down eMTy

Stand down please

Stand Therrien

You tell me how can it work

With this “process” of yours

All these chip-ins aren’t working,

We want a third goal scored

Stand down eMTy

Stand down please

Stand down Therrien

I sometimes wonder

If I'll ever get to say

Come with me my children

To the Stanley Cup parade

Our hopes seem desperate in your dump and chase plans

Would you give a second thought

Would you ever change the process, I doubt it

Stand down eMTy

Score!

Everybody shout it

Stand down eMTy!

DDD, cut his power play time

More gCHuck at Centre

We score

Score, score, score, score, score

Score, score, score, score, score

Score, score, score, score, score

Score, score, score, score, score

Score, score, score, score, score

Stand down please

Stand down EMTy

Stand down please

Stand down Therrien

I say stand down EMTy

Stand down please

Stand down Therrien

Stand down EMTy

Stand down please

Stand down Therrien

Paint It, Red

But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!

Reports are the casserole protests continued tonight. Thousands marching up St-Laurent Blvd earlier this fine evening. Good for them. "That's the spirit," as my eight-year-old son likes to say.

You know, for months I was reluctant to get behind this particular student-led movement. It really left a bad taste in my mouth every time I heard about "striking" students thwarting others from attending classes. And like many others I spoke with, "strike" (or its french equivalent, "grève", rhymes with Bev) seemed a misnomer. If anything, these guys were boycotting their classes, or at the very least, "protesting". But calling it a strike seemed disingenuous.

I am however, a tolerant Canadian, so I did not quibble with them throwing bricks on subway tracks to get attention when the hardline Quebec Liberal government of Jean Charest refused to even meet with them and hear their grievances. It was not very becoming of Charest, but then again, he is a pompous ass, and when you knowingly elect a pompous ass, you have to expect to live with that devil you knew and know. He was, after all, merely a young pup when learning the tricks of the trade within Mulroney's cabinet.

But once he had had enough of these unwavering protesters, his pomposity grew to such outbound proportions with his Bill 78 that I knew in a heartbeat that rather than making a Swift, Decisive, Strong Leader decision, he had instead impetuously shat the provincial bed.

I look on it now as my Grinch moment. It awakened me.

There I was, hand cocked to ear, sitting atop Mount Crumpet with all the self-righteousness of the many people like me, feeling unlawfully hindered from wending our little ways through the workings of life to get to our woefully underpaid jobs. I was fully (gosh, naively) expecting to hear the mea culpas from CLASSE spokesperson Gabriel Nadeau-Dubois and the others. And like all those who'd poo-pooed the movement and quietly categorized them as uber-brats, I had expected them to back down and accept that they were about to be firmly screwed again. The way I got screwed. The way we all have been getting screwed by the untenable but nonetheless well-embraced mantra of neo-liberalism that doesn't know anything other than sucking every ounce of life from the 99.9% to feed the self-important point-0-one.

But this generation of students? Nuh-uh. They wouldn't - and won't - have any of it, even though Bill 78 meant these students had just had their whole semesters scuppered.

But just like the Whos in Whoville who had been robbed of all their worldly possessions, the "entitled" young buggers came right back out into the commons anyway. They came out in numbers much greater than what wept for Maurice Richard's passing, and they sang their protest song on Tuesday, May 22nd, 2012. Over a hundred thousand people marched in bold defiance of a law that so obviously contravenes our utmost rights (bestowed by the people to those that rule us, remember, not the other way around), even the dimmest of voters could not help but see it.

We all heard them; me from the 8th floor office on de Maisonneuve Blvd where I earn subsistence wages for an American company that constantly insists none of us may take a sick day without later furnishing a Doctor's note, never mind that it's against Quebec law to ask for that for absences of less than three days.

I went down to the street on my break and watched the marchers head down Peel Street. They were joyously defiant. They had all the violence of a John Lennon or Ghandi.

They were on the right side of history, I figured.

For what I had heretofore failed to see was that the tuition increase wasn't all they were protesting. The increase, or "Hausse" was more like the straw that broke the camel's back - the camel that the mass media was always looking beyond because it figured nobody cared so much about camels as about Kardashians. And if it's sad that they are right in that assumption, it's also true that they had a big hand in making it so.

I guess I didn't relate because my own experience in university was that tuition kept going up each year, but my parents (what foresight!) had been saving for me and my sister since we were tots to make sure we had money to get a degree. And they had expected it to be a lot more expensive than it turned out to be.

My first year at Concordia University was also the last year of a long-standing tuition fee freeze (1988), and my contract for a full year's study, including extra administrative costs, was all of $750. After that, there was books and living expenses of course. And I did my bit. I toiled unrewarded as a volunteer student journalist; I paid my way and switched to studying part-time once the $350-a-year increases kicked-in in 1989, working minimum wage at McDonald's - a real Flaherty job if ever there was one.

Since graduation, I have found the market for my writing, my reporting, indeed the sum of my skills learned within the two departments of Journalism and Communications, to be drier than a James Bond martini. The jobs just haven't been there, and when they were, I jumped at them, only to find myself jammed-up with numerous others, like the hammers of an old manual typewriter all struck at once, with none eventually hitting the ribbon, but left with no recourse save full retreat.

I am 43 years old, with two dependants and an ex-wife. I had to start over last year, grateful as hell to find employment that provides good family benefits and a measure of security (not maternity-leave replacement or fixed-term contract work, but permanent, full-time with vacation), despite the fact it pays less than I made twelve years ago as a McDonald's manager.

So if the greater message is that this society is just not providing opportunity for the average Joe and Josephine, yeah, I get it.

And as someone who is squarely in the red, living in a tiny apartment with no money to go on vacations and unable to set aside anything for my kids' education, let alone my own retirement (which I imagine won't come before I am 70, if not 67 - unlike the tsk-tsk-ing well-heeled Boomer generation that is so disgusted by all this protesting), you bet I get it. Even Arcade Fire and Mick Jagger get it.

So I am with you. Sorry I wasn't listening earlier. That's what happens when you're working for the clampdown. I always loved that song. Now I've lived it.

Not the way I'd hoped.

*Photo: thanks, Aly Neumann!

Québec Students: You're Coming Along

After school is over you're playing in the park
Don't be out too late, don't let it get too dark
They tell you not to hang around and learn what life's about
And grow up just like them, won't you let it work it out

As I type this, thousands of youth are out in the streets of Montreal, in defiance of a police decree set at 22h30 EDT that their protest tonight is illegal. They are ostensibly protesting the planned hikes of tuition fees set in the last Quebec budget by the tired and corrupt Liberal government headed by former Mulroney Conservative Jean Charest.

This Spring, they aren't out there looting after a professional hockey loss.

They aren't out there sitting in tents in a park like the Occupy movement.

They're rather mobile in fact, as if they well understand the difficulty for the police in hitting a moving target.

And they clearly aren't in any mood to negotiate.

As someone who watched in horror while the 2010 Toronto G20 summit devolved into a disgraceful showcase of police belligerence against peaceful protesters, I shudder to think of where this is all heading.

My question for CLASSE: was it ever really about tuition fee hikes? Or was that just an excuse to get the ball rolling on a push for revolutionary social change? And how many of your followers will follow as far as you want to take this?

In the context of a super-corrupt and tired Charest government, I have to think this is all becoming the biggest test of our social fabric since the '95 referendum.

- 30 -

Sad Anniversary

Geneviève Bergeron (1968-1989)
Hélène Colgan (1966-1989)
Nathalie Croteau (1966-1989)
Barbara Daigneault (1967-1989)
Anne-Marie Edward (1968-1989)
Maud Haviernick (1960-1989)
Maryse Laganière (1964-1989)
Maryse Leclair (1966-1989)
Anne-Marie Lemay (1967-1989)
Sonia Pelletier (1961-1989)
Michèle Richard (1968-1989)
Annie St-Arneault (1966-1989)
Annie Turcotte (1969-1989)
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (1958-1989)

20 years ago the 14 women listed above were brutally killed, simply for being women, by a depraved, damaged man who was brought up to think of women as being somehow less deserving than men. Somehow less than equal. This is backward thinking and hopefully we can quell it with enough time, and enough unrelenting effort at hammering home the vital message:

women and men are equal

I will never forget. And I will do everything I can to ensure my children learn that message.

It saddens me still to think of how these 14 women died so senselessly, except to serve as a tragic example of how we sometimes fail to learn.

May they rest in eternal peace.

- 30 -

BQ and the separatists' need to forestall a fall election

It's simply bad for the cause. The big cause: Quebec separation. That's why Bloq Québecois leader Gilles Duceppe's MPs will prop up the Harper government and support the upcoming Ways and Means vote on Friday.

That's also why I suspect the Bloc will keep the Conservatives afloat until at least the first week of November (once the Montreal municipal election is over). Because the real reason former Parti-Québecois cabinet minister Louise Harel jumped into the race for the mayor's chair - under the Vision Montreal banner - is so the separatist movement could establish a strong organizational beachhead on the populous island where all the "money and ethnic votes" flourish. And to do that, first they have to help ensure she unseats incumbent Montreal Mayor Gérald Tremblay - himself a former Quebec Liberal leadership hopeful with strong ties to many in the Charest government.

A little Quebec politics background here: Harel has worked her whole professional life for the PQ and the separatist cause, having joined the party in 1970 at the age of 24. She got elected in 1981, back when René Lévesque was party leader, and went on to serve in both Parizeau's and Bernard Landry's cabinets; including a stint as interim party leader in the National Assembly.

While you won't find a hint of separatist policy (nor any mention of her impressive PQ and separatist bona fides) on the Vision Montreal website, make no mistake about the true motive here: Installing a separatist municipal government with strong PQ ties into Quebec's largest city would serve a similar purpose to the raison d'etre of the BQ: organizational and ideological support that each party can leverage off of between their respective elections.

And any government of Harel's will have at least one eye trained on promoting Quebec separation at any given opportunity. For if the last 40 years of Quebec history teaches us anything, it's that you can take the politician out of the ostensibly separatist party, but you can't take the separatist drive out of the politician.

And with the notable exception of former Vision Montreal leader (and Paul Martin Liberal) Benoit Labonté, who allowed himself to be bumped down a notch from party leader to become Harel's right-hand man, most of the candidates recruited by Harel have similarly strong separatist credentials. For example, yesterday I received a full-colour glossy pamphlate in my mailbox promoting former PQ MNA Elsie Lefebvre as a Vision Montreal candidate for city councillor in the Villeray arrondissement (or district). And how about former Bloq MP Réal Ménard, brought on board by Harel last June to run for mayor of Hochelaga-Maisonneuve borough?

So how does this all fit in with Duceppe's propping-up of the Harper government? Well, voter apathy in municipal elections - the conventional wisdom goes - is not helped one iota by a concurrent national campaign competing for the public's (and media's) attention.

That said, Harel needs to bring up the issues and stir up voter anger towards her opponent. That's her greatest hope for dislodging him in what has become a two-way race. Especially since her history with the PQ does not in any way endear her to the overwhelmingly federalist and entrenched Liberal-supporting constituency of the island.

Because traditionally, Montrealers return their mayoralty incumbents to power unless and until they get really fed up with them. Getting us fed up should be easy, given the rampant allegations of wide-spread corruption within the Tremblay administration. But if a federal campaign comes along in the meantime, that makes Harel's job a whole lot harder. And if she loses, then the possibility of a new (de facto) separatist government lording over Montreal island becomes that much more distant; with the goal of separating from Canada as elusive as ever.

The over-arching separatist strategy, therefore, is best served spending the next 11 weeks quietly putting all three parties' volunteers and support to that purpose - not fighting another federal campaign wherein they will need to concentrate on helping the Bloq maintain their seat count against the ambitious Liberals and Conservatives.

Simply put, there is absolutely no need for the separatists to bring down Harper's government right now, since it would only serve to hamper the separatist cause (not to mention Harel's personal ambition).

I'm surprised Jack Layton is letting all his party's political capital seep away, given this reality. His base must be furious with him, especially considering the Conservative government is comfortably safe without NDP support ...until November at least.

- 30 -

Finalement, c'est "Anglo à GoGo" pour la Fête nationale - Bon décision, SSJB

That didn't take too long. From the CBC:

Two anglophone bands from Montreal that were cut from a concert on the eve of St-Jean-Baptiste Day after a flap over language issues are back on the roster, the show's organizer said Monday afternoon.

"The Fête nationale is for all Quebecers, regardless of their language or political affiliation," Chantale Trottier, the organizer's president, said in a release.

Last week, Lake of Stew and Bloodshot Bill were in the lineup for the L'Autre St. Jean concert in the borough of Rosemont but were soon after uninvited.

There is a communiqué up explaining the move on the l'Autre St-Jean site (in French). Bravo to all parties: Bloodshot Bill and Lake of Stew for showing class in the face of the original snub. And hats off to La Société St-Jean-Baptiste de Montreal (or SSJB, who'd previously been behind the decision to uninvite the anglo bands), for coming to their senses.

Now let's just sit and marvel at how far we've come to see this day where anglophone Québecois bands are looking forward to celebrating our Fête nationale and immersing themselves in French Canadian culture. That's the spirit. When you think about it, there is so much we share; and we are lucky to live in a place where, more often than not anyway, cooler heads can prevail. Moi, je suis ben fier de mes voisins au jourd'hui.

I'll leave you with this really cool video of Malajube's (they're the headliner for the show in question), courtesy of Youtube:



Bon nuit.

- 30 -

How to Look Like a Closed-minded and Xenophobic Society

La Fête Nationale is a civic holiday in Québec. Being a Quebecker (or Québecois si vous préferez) of anglo heritage, it’s my party too and I think uninviting two Québec artists because they sing in English is really small-minded:

La Fête nationale doit être célébrée en français, affirme l'Association culturelle Louis-Hébert, commanditaire du spectacle L'Autre St-Jean, qui confirme avoir exigé le retrait de deux formations musicales parce qu'elles chantent en anglais. Cette décision a été vertement critiquée par des artistes et des membres de la communauté anglophone, mais plusieurs organisations souverainistes l'ont appuyée.

«Ce que nous voulons, ce sont des groupes qui chantent en français le jour de la Fête nationale», a affirmé Mathieu Bouthillier, vice-président de l'Association culturelle Louis-Hébert.

The CTV report sums it up in English like this:

A group of Anglophone musicians has been banned from playing at a St. Jean Baptiste celebration.

The band, called Lake of Stew, is made up of three brothers from the Mile End. They play folksy, bluegrass music - and they sing exclusively in English.

A few weeks ago, they were invited to perform at the first edition of a St. Jean Baptiste celebration called "L'Autre St-Jean".

(Absent from that CTV report was any mention of the other anglo act getting the ax; namely, Bloodshot Bill.) My tax dollars know no language; however they help to sponsor many events meant to bring us all together in a celebration of the richness of our culture.

And today's Quebec is overwhelmingly mature in its openness to different cultures, particularly here in Montreal. So I find it rather strange, this worry that the sounds of English lyrics during la Fête nationale might spark protests. As for the event organizers, it speaks volumes that they lack confidence in their supposedly proud and self-assured fellow Québecois' ability to deal with a little English mixed in with the festivities. In fact, it smacks of intolerance of the reality of the very existence of one culture in particular: anglo Quebeckers. Would these acts have been uninvited if they were made up of francophones (bons gars) who happened to sing all Elvis and Beatles covers?

Besides, does anyone doubt that music forms from many anglo cultures – like American Bluegrass for example – were important influences to francophone Québec acts like les Cowboys Fringants? I know a lot of francophone musicians who write exclusively English lyrics just for reasons of personal preference or aesthetics. There is no need to politicize the language of lyrical content. This bone-headed move is simply a matter of intolerance trumping inclusiveness.

By the way: If you can read French, you'll notice a good majority of commenters on the La Presse story are equally appalled. That's heartening and not at all surprising. The great majority of Québecois are open-minded and generous people, which is why I am proud to call myself one, despite the few yahoos that always manage to make dubious news for the rest of Canadians to muse over.

Tip of the hat to Fagstein; he has lots more on this, including links to the petitions.

Meanwhile: courtesy of youtube, here's a sweet little taste of the hazardously English-singing Lake of Stew:



And the equally dangerously English psychobilly of Bloodshot Bill:



- 30 -

Remembering Dec. 6, 1989: May they rest in eternal peace

Geneviève Bergeron (1968-1989)
Hélène Colgan (1966-1989)
Nathalie Croteau (1966-1989)
Barbara Daigneault (1967-1989)
Anne-Marie Edward (1968-1989)
Maud Haviernick (1960-1989)
Maryse Laganière (1964-1989)
Maryse Leclair (1966-1989)
Anne-Marie Lemay (1967-1989)
Sonia Pelletier (1961-1989)
Michèle Richard (1968-1989)
Annie St-Arneault (1966-1989)
Annie Turcotte (1969-1989)
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (1958-1989)

"Je Souviens" came to mean something more to me on this day than whatever the original intent of using it as the line on our license plates. I am so grateful to have the chance to raise two boys of my own to understand that we need to build a world without violence - towards women or anyone for that matter.

It's the least I can do in their memory. That and to keep singing:



Each time I feel like this inside
There's one thing I want to know
What's so funny 'bout peace, love and understanding?

Hein vs. Fortier, Barbot and Trudeau in Papineau riding debate this morning

Papineau riding's Green Party of Canada nominee, Ingrid Hein and her riding rivals will be participating in a debate on culture and law & order (the real stuff; not the TV show) on Daybreak, CBC Radio One, Montreal (98.5 FM) today, September 15th, at 7:40 am (EDT).

Host Mike Finnerty and the gang will be broadcasting from a popular local eaterie with the candidates. As of last Friday, the Conservatives were planning to send Minister of International Trade Michael Fortier in to pinch-hit for Mustaque Sarker, effectively denying listeners the chance to hear their actual CPC candidate go toe to toe with his rivals on english radio.

Since that's the case, I wonder: Will the Liberals' Justin Trudeau impress us avec ses abilites to change back et en avance dans la same sentence jusqu'au le point of headache-inducing distraction? Will the Bloq's Vivian Barbot and the NDP's Costa Zapirofolous show up? Tune in to Daybreak, 98.5 FM and find out.

Well Ingrid Hein will certainly be there. Listen in on the live feed here.

Should be interesting.

- 30 -

Original Song #26: Sitting Like Hippies

Sitting Like Hippies

Meet me down at Dusty's for seven o'clock
Open call auditions snaring hopeful hearts
Get in line, get a number, outside we wait
Finding four-leaf clovers like it was fate

Performance junkies congregate
When I open my guitar case

CHORUS:
Sitting like hippies in the park
Playing Brown Eyed Girl on my guitar
Sitting with your eyes closed, side to side you sway
I could live like this every day

Steve made the trip in from Halifax
Sang for five seconds and no call back
Rebecca's going to do Amazing Grace
Me? I'm going to fall flat on my face

Wave hello to the Pulstar van, get my
Fifteen minutes any way I can

Sitting like hippies in the park
Playing Brown Eyed Girl on my guitar
Sitting with your eyes closed, side to side you sway
I could live like this every day

Yeah, we're gonna eat what hippies eat
Yeah, we're gonna blink like hippies blink
Yeah, we're gonna stink like hippies stink

Doesn't matter; we've got April sun
Four-leaf clovers for everyone!

Sitting like hippies in the park
Strumming Brown Eyed Girl on my guitar
Sitting with your eyes closed, side to side you sway
I could live like this every day

- 30 -

Nothing but dumb hope left for us Habs fans

Might as well hope for an Asexuals reunion while we're at it. (Hats off to DomPompeo). Exile From Floontown was an LP - that's right; an LP - that was spinning just about constantly on my turntable - yeah, that's right; TURNTABLE, okay? Some of us are in our late 30s here, see? - during that magical '93 Cup win.

And we all know the Flyers are a no-class organization. Who wants to see an "all Pennsylvania" match-up for the Eastern final anyway? Ugh.

GOHABSGO

What St. Patrick's Day means in Montreal

I blog with Irish whiskey (Jamie's) in my veins tonight.

This is St. Patrick's Day weekend in Montreal, and I imagine for Boston and New York as well. For those who haven't experienced it firsthand, it is perhaps best understood by its singularly unvarnished portrayal in a noteworthy Simpsons episode.

Montreal parade uninterrupted since 1824

Unlike the other two cities' parades, Montreal parade organizers have managed not to skip a year in nearly two centuries - this despite Quebec's penchant for long unforgiving winters. I used to routinely participate with vigor myself (once, even playing mandolin on a float, with painfully cold fingers).

What is special about the Montreal version is the extraordinary cultural openness of the parade. I don't know about the other two cities, but here the event multi tasks as both a festival of Spring and of multiculturalism - in the sense that the Irish were the first immigrants that could be deemed "them" by the existing "us" community; and therefore, stand as the flag-bearers for immigrants of all races and creeds that have seen fit to settle here. To their credit, the parade organizers have maintained an open-minded (and decidedly apolitical) atmosphere for the event, always welcoming to their parade, any community group that wished to participate as "Irish for a day" in the fun-loving spirit of the thing.

The result is a scene of humanity at its very best. Not just Scots, Brits and Quebecois de souche; but Italians, Greeks, Portuguese, Spanish, Jamaican, Haitian, Russian, African, Arab, Jewish and others, all participate in this annual rite of Montreal Spring. We wear cheesey green plastic hats and drink green-tinted Labatt's Blue (among other beverages) and copulate fiercely on Ste. Catherines Street. Well, maybe fiercely isn't the best word, and perhaps copulation is rarely engaged-in (in view of the young'uns), but it's not terribly far away, what with all that booze flowing...

To what end this ramble, you ask?

Well, when I was still in my twenties, I used to work at the Peel Street McDonald's, just around the corner from the middle of the parade route. We would typically double our usual business for a Sunday in March, and we would have a couple of extra multi-gallon coffee decanters at the ready.

Thus, for ten years, I was witness to the parade and the joviality of its participants first-hand. I recall one year in the early 90's where a major blizzard had dumped 30+ centimetres of snow in the preceding 48 hours. That didn't stop the city from scrambling to clear the snow, and managing to still paint the traditional green hash marks down the center of the parade route. Nor did it stop the usual thousands of Montrealers from coming out to watch.

Another year, (perhaps the late 80's?) the parade day temperature was somewhere between frigid and colder than Stephen Harper's heart. I recall us repairing to the Mad Hatter's Pub by 12:30 pm to escape the cold, where we watched the parade on TV while sipping our pints.

During yet another year in those early nineties, I was a part of a celtic band called Killick's Claw, and we played at Buster Keaton's, followed by an evening gig at the Olde Orchard Pub, where we absolutely killed (bear in mind: the sobriety of our audiences was definitely questionable).

Most Unforgiving winter since the '98 Ice Storm

With that in mind, let me just say that this has undoubtedly been the toughest winter I have ever experienced in 38 years living in la Belle Province (with the possible exception of the one featuring the Ice Storm of 1998). Adding to the fun this year, I have a young family, and Montreal's snow removal capacity has been tested to such an extent that as of this writing, the sidewalk in front of my home has been unnavigable by poussette (baby stroller) for six days now.

So suffice it to say, if there was ever a year the city was really relying on its famous St. Patrick's Day parade to let loose and give winter the royal send-off it so rightfully deserves, it's the 2008 version.

And with that, I leave you with this snippet: is there any better metaphor for the promise of the New World than what this parade means for the diverse social patois of Montreal? Where we shed all the cultural and political baggage of our fore bearers to show solidarity of purpose with our fellow immigrant clans in carving out a niche for this generation and those to follow; one that is blessedly unhindered by the divisiveness of the squabbles and internecine battles that we - or our ancestors - chose to relieve ourselves of by emigrating from these places of never-ending conflict and heart-wrenching sorrow?

Bienvenue, welcome and Happy St. Patrick's Day

So to my fellow Montrealers - one of which is a new co-worker and dual Canadian-Lebanese citizen who moved to Montreal to escape the Israeli bombing campaign of 2006 - let me welcome you to the 2008 St. Patrick's Day Parade with open arms and a slug of Irish whiskey.

To you and all other arrivals, recent or otherwise: do come as you are, but not necessarily as you were.

Smile, sing and dance in the street. It is important to respect tradition, you know.

Most of all, welcome to your new home and new future. I know you will make the most of it, and I hope we entrenched Canadians don't disappoint. In the meantime, just

Cheers to you

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Spring anyone?

Big storm still happening here. Definitely the biggest blizzard in what has to be called the toughest winter in living memory. I opened my front door this morning to find six inches of snow up against it, and level with my front walk (which is down three steps from the porch). That's a first.

Up and down my street none of the cars are distinguishable from one another except possibly by their side-view mirrors; they are merely igloo-sized white blobs. The sidewalk plowers evidently gave up on our street some time yesterday evening - they wouldn't be able to get through right now if they wanted to, because the banks on either side are too bulked-up with heavy dense snow. There is a narrow amount of passable street, but it certainly is not a good day for a drive.

CBC radio news is reporting:
- several highway closures and tens of thousands in the Quebec City region without power;
- the Societe de Transport de Montreal (STM) left the Metro stations open all night (without the trains running, however), just for shelter. They had numerous bus routes unable to run, what with four of their seven bus garages unable to open this morning, and lots of drivers and mechanics unable to get in to work (no kidding), meaning public transport is barely functioning.
- not much activity at any airports in the Northeast.

CTV says 40 cm fell on Montreal, which sounds about right.

And there is still some snow falling - or at least I think so, because the wind hasn't died down much.

But the Habs are #1 with a two-point cushion over the Sens, both our goalies are hot, and our balanced offensive attack has racked up more goals than all but one other team in the NHL, so it's a good day nonetheless!

Be strong, fellow Montrealers. This isn't Narnia; this can't go on forever, and the NHL playoffs should be fun this year!

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On Boisclair's resignation and the gay double-standard

Today saw the sad spectacle of Andre Boisclair's past-due resignation as leader of the Parti Quebecois. It's a sad day for federalists as well, since he didn't have the good sense (unlike Paul Martin Jr.) to resign promptly on election night; which only served to drive fresh nails into the the separatist movement's coffin with every day of pointless hesitation.

But perhaps saddest of all is this little piece of ugly journalism buried within the Gazette's political obituary of the man:

Boisclair faced tough questions over his admitted use of cocaine while a cabinet minister and, as Quebec's first openly gay political leader, also faced questions about his homosexuality during the election campaign.

(Emphasis mine) What a bizarre thing to say. While I agree about the cocaine part (heck, I called that one back in 2005), I am completely confounded about the rest of that sentence. What sort of questions did he face about his homosexulity, so craftily juxtaposed in the sentence structure here as to subtly equate it with cocaine use? Think about it. No one would write that he "faced questions about his orientalness" or: "his lack of legs", or: "his asthma", or what have you...

And all day that's been there. I would have thought some editor would have retracted that line by now but it's been there for at least 15 hours!
Let's see if it makes it into the print version. I'm ashamed for them.

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Update:(May 9, 09h23 EDT) The offending bit was not included in either Philip Authier's front page story, nor Hubert Bauch's analysis of the print version.

Parking it where the sun don't shine

Today's topic is how to canonize an inept former Premier Ministre du Quebec. The man who panicked and begged the feds to bring in the army and the War Measures Act during the October Crisis. The guy who called in the Canadian army again 20 years later during the Oka Crisis after his bumbling provincial police shamefully opened fire on the Kanesatake Mohawks, escalating a minor land dispute to a tribal war. The only politician to formally set aside the Charter of Rights and Freedoms using the infamous "Notwithstanding Clause" to pass an incredibly silly piece of legislation. Yes, good 'ol BooBoo.

He was a pol who never saw a bit of Quebec society's fabric he couldn't resist yanking on to the breaking point. The one thing he did right - although it disrupted the ecosystem terribly in the process - was to build mammoth hydro-electric projects in the James Bay region, thereby securing our energy needs with a renewable resource for decades afterward.

But that's not enough reason to rename Park Avenue (or Avenue du Parc) as Ave. Robert-Bourassa.

For one thing, we already have a major artery - not far away from Park - named Boul. Henri-Bourassa. Oh sure, it's not the same Bourassa, but tell that to confused out-of-towners who just want to know how the heck to find their way to the Grand Prix.

For another, I used to live on Park and have always appreciated the name for its blessed brevity - especially when filling out Quebec government forms that never seem to provide enough space to write such stuff as "Ave. Robert-Bourassa".

And yet another: Park (or Parc) could be confused as being vaguely english-sounding, as a friend of mine pointed out. No wonder the pencil pushers can't leave it be.

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