A few random thoughts on a beautiful Tuesday morning …
It’s good to see that The Man Who Would Be President For Life, Donald Trump, has cleared up any lingering doubts as to whether he — and by extension the Republican Party, which is in cult-like thrall to him — has gone full-on fascist. He recently went on record as saying that, if re-elected, he would cleanse America of “vermin”, weaponize the Justice Department to go after his enemies and thwart political opponents, establish “detention camps” to house millions of people, and quash all the federal cases against him.
Anyone who supports Trump at this point has to know that they’re supporting a vindictive, spiteful, fascist thug who wants to run a bulldozer through democracy. If you’re interested in seeing how that might play out, take a look at Germany from about 1930 to 1945, and remember that “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
But it’s a beautiful Tuesday morning, so enough about that. Later today the cast and crew of Shaken, Not Stirred has the first of two dress rehearsals before opening night on Thursday, and it’s hard to believe we’re so close. When I woke up this morning I thought “Just two more sleeps until opening night,” and had a moment of panic. Will it go okay? It always does, but that doesn’t stop the pre-opening night jitters.
So many people have worked so hard on the production that to call it a labour of love is a huge understatement. In this week’s paper, Elvenia Gray-Sandiford writes about the power of passion, and how it impels people to do great things. I don’t know that Shaken, Not Stirred could be classed as a “great thing”, but the passion of the dozens of people involved with it cannot be denied. We do it because we love it, and we want others to enjoy it.
That’s something that the Donald Trumps of this world will never understand. For them, the question is always “What’s in it for me?” The concept of doing something out of the goodness of their heart for the benefit of others, without expectation of reward or recognition, is completely foreign to them. I can’t imagine how ghastly it would be to live one’s life like that.
Speaking of ghastly, few sounds are as terrible as the click of your hotel room door shutting behind you as you step into the hallway, a split-second before you realize that you left the key card inside the room. Ask me how I know this.
I’m driving home in the dark now, and it’s very cheering to see the Christmas lights and displays that are popping up around town. An editorial in this week’s paper touches on the debate about when the “proper” time to start lighting up is, and I can’t help but agree with the conclusion that the proper time to switch on your Christmas lights is when it feels right to you.
There has been some talk that it’s somehow disrespectful to veterans (living and dead) to do so before Remembrance Day, which is a discussion that does not appear to have been a thing until fairly recently. I can’t speak for veterans, obviously, but I suspect they would view the whole thing as a tempest in a teapot. Plugging in your inflatables, and turning on the lights, before Nov. 11 can co-exist with the days leading up to Remembrance Day, but if you want to wait until after that, then you do you. Just don’t judge others who want to brighten the dark nights before then.
Speaking of brightening the darkness, it’s cheering to see all the events that are coming up in the area in the run-up to Christmas. It takes us back round to passion, because none of these events — from markets and craft fairs and breakfasts with Santa to Christmas tree light-ups, turkey bingos and spiels, and community Christmas parties — would be happening without the hard work of countless volunteers. Make sure to support them, and show how much you appreciate what they do to make our little corner of the world a brighter place.
