17 April 2016

Canadian Prairie Saturday Night

Campaigns generally pack it in for the day a little early on Saturday night. The philosophy which asserts all work and no play is a bad idea applies even within the month given for most provincial campaigns. The last house I visited with my canvassing partner yesterday was barbequeing steak on the patio by the door we knocked on.

"That smells so good," she said as we both imagined what was ready to come off the grill. She had barely finished her sentence when the voter we wished to interact with came out of his house with a tall can of beer in his hand.

"You with the NDP, right?" he asked. When we assured him we were he added, "Good fucking thing for you. I still have the last pair of the Conservative likes of you who knocked on my door four years ago locked in the basement. Lately I have taken to reading them the fucking Leap Manifesto every day. Be motherfucking socialists like you any day now. Any how you have my vote. Now get the fuck off my patio! It's dinner time!"

Best thing to do when going door to door is quit after a good contact which we did. My partner dropped me where I am staying and made her way to her own barbeque. I had a couple quick beer and some cold pizza as I cleaned up before heading out to see a community play I had seen posters publicizing when I first came into town.

There must have been 300 people drinking beer and wine in the hall when I got there. More people than you see at a similar event in Steepleton, a city fucking near ten times the size of this place. I was the only CFA there but I was not any different from the rest of the crowd except for my Motorhead t-shirt.

My candidate was in the other end of the riding. The Conservative candidate was, much to my chagrin, in the room making nice with everybody. Naturally I introduced myself.

"Pleased to meet you Beer," he told me as he grasped my hand with a cold wet one of his own.

 "I am staying with somebody in town who sure would like to meet you," I said before giving him the name and address of the fellow I had last spoke with on his patio.

The play was well performed. Laughter filled the hall and escaped into the quiet of the night outside.

We drank more beer and wine at intermission. Again I watched the Conservative candidate pleading his party's case with everybody who did not avoid him like he was dog shit on a sidewalk.

When the play was over and the applause complete the cast mingled with their supporters for a while.  I was happy to be among those grateful enough to stay behind a short while before I slipped out into the cold, windy, half-moon bright Canadian Prairie night.

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