Oh Canada ….
by Ross
Happy Canada Day!
From my office I can hear fireworks as our national celebration winds down. I lean back in my chair and reflect on what it means (to me) to be Canadian, to be born in Canada, to have only lived in Canada.
I have the freedom to complain that we don’t have enough doctors, that it took two years to find a family physician when I moved to this city, that his office is in a nearby town, that it takes me 20 minutes to drive my car to an appointment. But … I can’t say I have no doctor, or that it takes me hours to ride my bicycle to him, or that medical help is a two day walk away from my house.
I have the freedom to complain about the telemarketer whose first language is not English or the brash young man at the door, both who are trying to sell me cheaper natural gas from a different supplier so I can afford to heat my house next winter. My brick house, with insulated walls and ceilings, with double glazed argon filled vinyl clad windows, and carpeted and hardwood floors. I can’t complain about not finding enough wood in the semi-arid region in which I live so my family can have a fire to cook food and enjoy a little heat. I can’t complain it’s difficult to vacuum a dirt floor.
I have the freedom to eat more animal protein in one day than many have for a week, some in a month. I do complain about having too many choices for supper – will it be steak on the BBQ, or grilled fish, or roasted chicken, or a fast-food hamburger, or lamb at the Greek restaurant?
I have the freedom to watch the evening news on television, I see people rioting and dying in cities half way around the world, rising up against tyranny, fighting for the very things that I complain about.
Oh Canada …