We Get Along, Eh?

By Jim Hagarty
2018

Canadians are too polite. Thank God we are. Sorry if that offends you. (See? And I haven’t even said anything offensive. Yet.)

In Canada, we are raised to not consider the individual to be a god. We learn pretty quickly that we belong to communities and that if we want to live long and prosper, we had better make room for others. This means abiding by laws we might not like, rules that seem ridiculous. Yes, we have our heroes, but we know they are simply people above all else. I once talked to a guy who had peed in a urinal next to Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau who was relieving himself in the urinal beside him while being Prime Minister. They struck up a conversation while answering nature’s call.

A little thing, but I recently went to pay for my coffee at the drivethrough window. I was told the woman in the car ahead of me had already paid for it. I asked what the car behind me had ordered. Also a coffee. So I paid for that guy’s coffee. Didn’t hurt a bit and made me feel good all day.

I bought the house I still live in 32 years ago. A few months after I moved in, I got into a small fracas with a neighbour. I told an older co-worker about it the next day. He dropped what he was doing, made me look him straight in the face, and said, “If you want to be happy in your new home, don’t fight with your neighbours.” His earnestness stopped me in my tracks. I took his advice and dropped whatever little thing had been bugging me. I have lived happily in my home for 32 years.

I do not get along with everyone in this world but those I disagree with, I try to go around. I cross the street when someone unpleasant is coming my way. And I know people who don’t want to encounter me are doing the same thing. I am not everyone’s cup of tea. I know that. I sometimes think of the two road ragers in the United States a year or so ago who pulled their cars off onto the shoulder, jumped out of their vehicles, whipped out their guns and shot each other dead. Two middle-aged white men. They gave up their lives because somebody cut somebody off, or some such horror.

Canadians have all the same problems as other societies. But we do not worship our leaders, our history or even our rights. We enshrine new rights when they are inevitable and discard old ones when they are unproductive. We do not vote for our leaders directly. They are chosen by our political parties and discarded by those same parties, not by the voters.

We look out for each other. I’ve mentioned this nugget before. My neighbour rang my doorbell a while back and asked me sheepishly if he could borrow MY key to HIS house, having locked himself out. He has a key to my house. I always want to live in a town and country where I can enjoy that level of trust. And absence of fear.

You can have your Wild Wild West. I prefer my Mild Mild Best.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.