The Saturday Spark
Tell us: When/where were you last in a “situation not filled with other people like you”?
On a personal note . . .
I’m currently out of studio and mostly unplugged. Upon my return, I’ll have a crazy schedule through mid-April. Thanks to my wonderful virtual assistant,
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Catch up! (event replays)
Next week on The Raft . . .
Creatives’ Coffee (Zoom, Wednesday, 4:00-5:00PM Central). A casual conversation group for Rafters who regard life as a creative practice and/or who like to “make stuff.” Oodles of companionship, support, inspiration, and cross-fertilization of ideas! Hop on the Zoom at this link. Can’t make it? Watch for the video replay in this newsletter.
Poetry Pick-Me-Up (Zoom, Thursday, 12-1PM Central). A casual weekly gathering for poetry-sharing, celebration, and discussion. Hop on the Zoom at this link. Bring a poem you like to read to the group. Or, just come to listen to poems offered by other Rafters and to participate as you’re comfortable in our informal but wholehearted conversation. Can’t make it? Watch for the video replay in this newsletter!
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Whew! That's all for now. Stay well. Stay witty. Stay tuned into your true spot and create from your radiant, beautiful self.
Funny you should ask… Earlier this afternoon before dinner, I was rolling towards my residence when I was intercepted by an officer with our local RCMP ( for non-Canadians, this is our federal police force, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police ).
As I’m sixty years old, and handicapped but in an electric wheelchair, I was travelling against the traffic in a bike lane. Careening into my lane and blocking the traffic behind his lights-flashing cruiser, he lurched to a shuddering halt and opened his car door. He stomped quickly towards me with steely blue eyes pooping with venom and actually yelled, “Who the hell do you think you ARE?!!! using the bike lane…” You can imagine how targeted and scared witless I was now. I apologized and said that I thought wheelchair users were permitted to use those lanes, because I see people like me using them every day of the week! The constable wasn’t having any of it, and was shaking with rage at the effrontery he had to deal with. Imagine, a vulnerable citizen asking for clarity on the matter at hand… “I’M TELLING YOU, BUD, YOU’RE GONNA TURN AROUND RIGHT NOW AND GET YOURSELF AND YOUR BLOODY CHAIR ON THE SIDEWALK!!! I objected and pleaded with him, “But officer, the lane that I was about to turn left on to get me home for supper is only about 25 metres away. Can’t you just let me go ahead and promise to check into the bike lane protocols. I assumed I was going about things right because I’ve seen, as I’m sure you have, wheelchair folks doing what I’m doing ALL THE TIME…” At this point the fascist-goon was going apesh*t, and jabbing his immaculately manicured forefinger towards my chest, and now I was actually frightened that I may have pushed back too far.
While all this was about to go down, I was on speakerphone with my older brother Harry in Winnipeg, and he heard the entire encounter. After doing as I was commanded and safely in the lane that I needed to get to, I was completely outraged at how defenceless I was, how vulnerable I was to harm, at the hands of a peace officer. My brother, an academic who has taught graduate courses in Sociology and Political Science warned me to suck it up, when I vented and swore bitterly that I would lodge a complaint with the Sonderkommandant at the local RCMP detachment. He said, “Don’t even THINK of it! Guys like you, good looking, smart and, worst of all, are resented by fascists like that. There’s no explanation for that, and you know better than that, and it’s not the first time that you’ve given fascists like that a hard time… If you think you’ve just been targeted, well… you HAVE. But it’s gonna be a helluva lot worse if you go ahead with what you’ve proposed here. You ALWAYS HAVE TO REMEMBER: THOSE DUDES DO WHAT THEY DO, not all of them, but far too many, because they’re insecure assh*les who need the less fortunate to lord over and hassle… When they’re on their own in their cruisers and they have a pretext to mess with you, they WILL! And don’t forget about the thin red line, right. It’s real, man. You’ll be a target from here on in, because you’re all over town and the guy’s not going to forget you…” I took his advice. I’m sucking it up, and I’m keeping my head down. Way too many people like me gets their butts kick or even become fatal statistics by professional perps who never seem to get indicted and justifiably incarcerated for their criminal brutalities. Reader beware… rumour has it that in your fine country, their exists a Prison Industrial Complex with a LOT of detention centres busting at the seams with not a lot of able-bodied white folks in their cramped, unventilated; and their relying upon public and private goon squads to keep their concentration camps FULL OF FOLKS LIKE US to ensure huge returns from the same shareholders and angel investors who are about to shoehorn The Orange Man into a second term. So, yeah, this experience aligns nicely with Ms. Colleen’s request, I think… I pray to G-D, that She will protect us as much as She will be able to, in the New Order that seems to be coming at us with the speed of a runaway train. Please be safe. Life is too precious to squander when confronted by the Powers and Principalities that are currently in ascendance. Speak Truth to power, if you are brave enough to; but don’t react impulsively. Learn the tough lesson, to control yourself and tread lightly around the serpents on the path ahead.
Oh my goodness? In my outrage I dropped words, forgot to proofread before sending, and maybe worse still, I called our friend Phyllis COLLEEN!!! Sheesh… no doubt I deserve a proper application of a cat-I-nine-tales for that. But, having only the briefest of experiences with her, I suspect she’s forgiven me already. Thanks, PHYLLIS. :)