My Grandma Fody died this past December. She was 94 and for her entire life she was a devout, dedicated true-blue card-carrying Tory.
She was so blinded by her politics that it wouldn’t matter in the least what happened, or who did it – she would find a way to blame the Liberals. She never questioned anything. Everything the Conservatives did was right.
Oh, and those NDP or Green Party tree-huggers. They know nothing.
She travelled all across Canada going to Tory conventions, she worked polls and always followed the news for any political story.
Visits with her often contained a political conversation. Well, I wouldn’t so much call it a conversation. It was more of what you might call a one-sided affirmation of her opinions.
As for that old-fashioned saying “respect your elders”, well, I had to do a lot of that.
Justin Trudeau really got under her skin: his hair, he didn’t shave one day (Shoppers Drug Mart must have run out of razors, she said). it wouldn’t matter if he saved one of her great grandchildren from drowning. He had no chance of being in her good books.
COVID would have given her so much material to blast the Liberals for. I can literally hear the criticisms in my head as I am typing.
I didn’t inherit her political-devotedness gene.
Politics, for me, is similar to watching a bunch of children on a playground.
There are usually a few leaders.
There are usually groups that form.
Most tend to play soccer or baseball, some of the most common games, while others lean to the not so common task of collecting things and building something.
There are the dreamers who draw in a few floaters.
Sometimes they get along.
Sometimes they play really well together and achieve much.
Sometimes there is a bully in the group who makes fun of others for not doing things the same way as they do.
Sometimes there is a traitor in the group who decides they want to play soccer instead of baseball.
Sometimes that traitor tells the soccer group things the baseball players said about them or things they were slyly doing behind their backs.
Sometimes they fight.
When they fight, all hell can break loose and no one achieves anything.
Grudges are formed.
I’m the type who sometimes wants to play soccer, sometimes I want to build things, I like to get along with others and I’m interested in learning.
A few years ago, as part of lobbying the government for research funding for ovarian cancer, I attended a lobby day on Parliament Hill.
All of the pageantry made me chuckle! As we raced from office to office, we needed to get a Page to tell the Member of Parliament we were meeting with that we had arrived. The photo ops were so structured. There were so many ‘handlers’. There were certain chairs you weren’t allowed to sit in.
As part of the experience, we were able to attend Question Period. We filed into the upper viewing area and were given a list of instructions.
On that particular day it was particularly dramatic. If I recall correctly, Trudeau was being accused by the NDPs of pushing an MP and maybe even something to do with crossing the floor.
Thomas Mulcair, in an effort to mock the Prime Minister, put his hands up behind his head and stretched his legs out. When the Prime Minister would speak, he shouted, “Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
It was pure and utter craziness! I tried to imagine if myself and my colleagues acted this way in a meeting. What a complete waste of time!
I’m not a huge consumer of news media. The stories are all about pointing fingers, accusations, agenda setting and ego. Trump! Covid! Trudeau! One scandal after another! The sky is falling!
A few years ago, I made a decision to not watch the news before I go to sleep. This decision was made after I had a dream in which I was pregnant and in labour. I was in an operating room. Jian Ghomeshi and Rob Ford were the nurse and doctor. I didn’t want Jian to touch me and I wasn’t convinced that Rob Ford knew how to deliver a baby.
I really don’t know what heads or tails is anymore when it comes to politics.
What is real? What is true? What is right? Who is actually being honest? What is being done? Who is paying who?
You know what, maybe Grandma was onto something. It is easier to be one sided, to not question things and just unequivocally believe that one party is right.
With an insatiable love for human behaviour and circumstance, Emilie Chiasson absorbs the world around her, and turns her experiences into relatable stories. From her home town of Antigonish, N.S., to her travels around the world, she never fails to connect with the characters and perspectives that make life a bit more colourful. Read more.