MAKING LEMONADE WITH SPOILED LEMONS

Normally, seeing a place or person displaying a Canadian flag without due respect for the nation’s symbol is something that, at the very least of times annoys me, and at the very worst, angers me.

I’ll spare everyone the rationale that lay behind that.  In fact, if one were to scroll through past posts, there have been plenty of instances where I articulate my position around the flag.  I should also note that my position just happens to be the same as the federal government, regardless of political stripe.

So when I see that my local Metro store is still displaying flags twenty-seven days after Canada Day, normally I’d be upset.

But where does that get me?  You don’t need to think too hard to come up with an answer.

So, instead, what if I were to just go along with the whole flag ignorance/disrespect thing?  You know, embrace it.  Like, really throw my weight behind it.

And so I have.

I’ve called upon my marketing and communications experience to make a positive impact on my local scene, and to that end, I give you Metro’s new CONVOY DOLLAR DAYS promotion.

Could you imagine an event, outside of a Trump rally, where every single whacko in a fairly large catchment area could gather together in one place to celebrate their, well, whatever it is that whatever they have is called?  

Some imaginative individual could come up with the idea of throwing a barbecue during the event.  And if we really wanted to get things hopping, maybe hire some drag queens to dance and read stories to the kids.  Maybe have visible members of Renfrew’s 2SLGBTQ++⁴  on hand to do rainbow face-painting.  As they say in bakery, it would be a slice.

Invite Justin Trudeau for a “meet and beat.”

The ideas cascade.

So, rather than fighting against the headwinds of life here in the 613, I’m determined to become more positive, and in so doing, become part of the gang.  Tomorrow I begin practicing at home and in the mirror throwing racial epithets at local immigrants out my car window.  I want to buy a beat-up piece of shit pickup truck so I can drive around town showing off my beat-up piece of shit flag that I bought from those bloody immigrants that run the dollar store.

And maybe, just maybe, with a little luck and a little grace, I may begin the process of fitting in.