When the recap newsletter sucks (and this one does), the buck stops with me
Do you really want to hear about the random errands I'm doing, or the old-school video games I'm playing? Didn't think so.
Happy Sunday, team. This is a lame weekly recap. For a reason: there is very little to recap.
Timing is everything. And this newsletter’s timing is arguably terrible. When I launched it eight day ago the only thing that was promised was a weekly recounting of all I’d done professionally the prior seven days. Having made that pledge, I immediately ... took two weeks off. I therefore have almost nothing to recap.
So, in a feeble attempt to bring you some “value add,” I offer you this stray musing. Sorry! Best I can do.
Earlier this week we loaded the kids into the car, handed them each a charged iPad and drove to Niagara Falls. My wife adores the Falls. I’m not a fan, really (well, the falls themselves are great, but Clifton Hill is not far from my notion of hell). But it’s an easy ride from Toronto, which means we didn’t have to stay overnight anywhere. Plus, we were able to basically stay outside the whole day, distancing from everyone else. In these times of COVID, it’s about as good as a day trip can get.
On the way down the QEW, I finished the last few chapters (via Audible audiobook) of David McCullough’s mammoth Pulitzer-winning biography of Harry S. Truman, who served as president of the United States from 1945 until early 1953. I first read the book some years ago, but decided to revisit it during the long spell of COVID-mandated isolation and downtime. Truman has always been my favourite president. Theodore Roosevelt is probably more interesting as a man but Truman was in office for one of the most fascinating and dangerous eras in history and, in the main, made the right calls on the pressing issues of the day. As the book was wrapping up with its recounting of Truman’s final years, I commented to my wife that I’d love to one day make it down to Independence, Missouri, where the Truman Presidential Library and Museum sits, just outside of Kansas City. It would be an indulgence of a trip — I can’t imagine I’ll ever have any reason to go to KC except to make the trip to the Truman library and other nearby historical sites, including his long-time home at 219 North Delaware Street.
It's a long way to go for that (and probably some great barbecue and maybe a bit of live jazz). But still. I really hope to one day make it there.
And then it occurred to me, like I’d somehow forgotten: the border is closed. It’ll be closed for some time to come, I suspect.
The pandemic hasn’t been the drag on my spirits or mental health that it has been for so many others. There have been moments of concern, and even fear, but the isolation landed lightest on us homebody introverts, I think. But one of the things I keep tripping over is the fact that America is closed to me. I can’t go there. And that’s hard to swallow.
Part of the difficulty is likely the often-unstated sense of belonging and even entitlement many Canadians feel toward America. Oh, sure. We’re holier-than-thou and smug as all hell most of the time, but we also react extremely badly to any slight from our neighbour to the south. You saw that again this week when comments by a Trump administration official about our war effort in Afghanistan set off a storm here. I don’t want to get into the details of that, because that’s not the point I’m trying to make (and I actually think he was generally misinterpreted in the Canadian press, and agree with what he said, at least as I understood his meaning). But in any case, it proves the point I’m addressing: Canadians are very proud to not be Americans, but those Americans had better not ever exclude us from anything or neglect us in the slightest. Whether America is a "they" or a "we" to a Canadian usually hinges very much on what's being said. Gun violence? Damn those Americans! The moon landing? We did it!
(Another big one is health care, of course, which, just for a point of trivia, links two of our themes here today. The first iteration of medicare was signed into law by then-president Lyndon Baines Johnson ... at the Truman library in Independence, in recognition of Truman's sustained but futile effort to have similar legislation passed during his presidency. That’s Truman, 81 years old and 12 years out of office, to the right of Johnson. And what a wonderful photo it is.)
Atop of that general Canadian feeling of semi-belonging with Americans is my own personal fascination with U.S. history and love of the country and its people. Some of my happiest memories are from trips taken into the United States to go explore something new, or to revisit something once seen. I don’t miss going to restaurants in Toronto, but it bothers me knowing it will be a long time before I’m back in Boston. I’m the kind of nerd who wakes up early while the rest of the family is asleep so I can be first in line at Independence Day in Philadelphia, despite the pouring ran.
And I have proof. Look at that smile!
So yeah, my heart breaks when I think about what's happening in the republic just to the south. Standing on the Canadian side of the falls, looking out at that majestic natural wonder, I found my eyes drifting to the left, to look on American soil, and distant figures that I have to assume were themselves Americans. I was close enough to see them. It felt close enough to shout to them. But I have no idea when I’ll be there again. There was no traffic going back and forth across the normally packed bridge.
Despite the sadness, considering the multiple layers of dysfunction on display south of the border, I didn’t once wish it were crowded with cars. I’ll go back there someday, and to new places, including — I hope! — Kansas City (and Independence!) and Houston, both high on my to-see list. But I’ll go when it’s safe, and after the Americans have hopefully sorted out of their ongoing issues. I’m in no rush, which is good. They may need a while.
(I’d say it’ll all still be there waiting for me when things blow over, but given 2020 so far, that would feel like tempting fate.)
So concludes the value-add. And now, what roundup there is:
Here at Code 47, I wrote about how frustrating it is that we insist on having the wrong debates about the pandemic. Every time someone responds to any concerns about schools reopening by pointing out that children generally don't seem to die of COVID, I have only this to say: I know that, and you're missing the point. My children probably won't die of COVID when they go back to school in a few weeks. I'm not worried about that. I am worried that they might pick up COVID and then kill someone else. Re-opening the schools isn't likely to prove a threat to my children, but it's absolutely going to screw up our family life. Potentially for years to come. And that hurts.
That’s all for this week, folks. Until next time.
mgurney.responses@gmail.com
Twitter.com/MattGurney
Photo Credits:
Niagara Falls: “abdallahh” from Montreal under Creative Commons licence
Truman Portrait: Public domain image, property of the U.S. government. Original portrait by Greta Kempton, 1947.
LBJ at Truman Library: Public domain image, released by the White House Press Office, U.S. government. Dated July 30, 1965.