12 November 2010
Being In a War
While much of the rest of Canada marked Remembrance Day I worked. The sawmill marks mid-week holidays the same day the docks do. For the first couple years after 9-1-1 the docks shut down on the 11th no matter what day of the week it fell on. Honour the War Machine and all that. After that the Fuck the Taking a Holiday in the Middle of the Week Faction at the docks regained control and we started getting a long weekend in November again.
At five past eleven this morning I heard the fighter jets go overhead as they prepared to do their fly-over Dope City's East End cenotaph. I thought briefly of my grandfather fucking English skirt during training before heading out to kick the shit out of the motherfucking fascist scum. Then I thought of my first dog Strangler who died on Remembrance Day quite a few years back. Such sadness. Then my mind returned to how much beer I could put back watching the Lions battle the Roughriders in sub-zero Screamin' White Jefferson country on Sunday.
Tonight the Hammer is curled up by the fire Sonja is tending as she watches television. I am listening to WDVX-FM like some motherfucking good old country boy, doing a little typing, sipping a little Arran's. I feel alright.
Beats the fuck out of being in a war.