Nola and I and Kate and Lisa were canoe camping on Clearwater Lake my first summer here. Nola and I had been, for about ten days previous, on nearby Murtle Lake. It was a thundery, squalling day when we met up with Kate and Lisa on the Clearwater shore, put our camping fee in an envelope and stuffed that into the fee box before taking advantage of a break in the rain to get our canoes in the water and head north.
The water was choppy, slopping over the gunwales now and again, and I came as close as ever I have to being seasick. But we made it in good shape to the campsite we'd picked out, and with the rain slacking off for the time being, raised a tarp and our tents and were soon relaxing with hot cocoa by a nice fire.
Toward evening we saw a fellow in a green Parks uniform trudging up the bank from the shore toward us. He had a clipboard, and a pen. He was making the rounds, seeing that everyone was all right and that no one had tried to short the fee box.
As he got closer, I realized that he didn't have a gun. At the same moment, I realized that I expected him to have a gun. And then, how very differently I felt toward him, that he was there to help us if we needed it, because he did not have a gun.
I did not know, until that moment when I encountered an unarmed, uniformed person, how much the constancy of The Gun had informed all my interactions with police, with rangers, with this or that government agency, or private security force.
When I saw a uniform, I expected to see a gun. I expected to see someone who might, just might, try to shoot me. If I didn't behave right. If I scared them by being too rambunctious, too outraged by "stupid" rules & regulations, too much out of my place. And how much I modulated my behaviour, so they wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Someone who didn't have The Gun would have to deal with me, with what's upsetting me and why. When they have The Gun, they don't have to worry with all that nonsense. All they have to do is pull it out. If that's not enough, why, pulling the trigger should sort me out.
The parkie who visited us? I was ready to make him some hot cocoa and chat about the trout fishing till he'd had his fill. About the bear someone'd seen on another part of the lake earlier that week, and if it'd be moose or deer that'd be most likely to stomp through our camp on their way to water. He didn't have a gun, ergo, he was one of the good guys.
2 Comments
Yeah and those Conservatives that want to eliminate the border try and say there’s no difference between Americans and Canadians – snort!
Well, now, if we’re talking Conservatives, as in political affiliations, Canadian Conservatives see no difference between themselves and the Americans they deal with because there is no difference. Their mantra is “What’s good for Business is good for the Country.” It’s a shared ideal, and trumps all other concerns.
Nor do they do anything so plebian as camp in a public park. :)