happy birthday, canada

we watched some crazy man verbally assault people, this evening, as we carried our iced teas down the drive in the sunshine. he wore red and black, wide brimmed hat shading his eyes from the evening glare - you know how the sun hits *that point* in the sky when there's really no escaping it, when the sun visors can't help no matter how tall you are.

"i hate fucking canadians!" he said as he lurched back and forth. "fuck canada!" i stared back at him, feeling the boy's arm tighten beneath my hand. "don't," i said. "don't provoke it."

the man in the red shirt lurched onto the bus through the back door. the bus doors remained open - we could hear him lambasting the driver before he lurched back down the stairs. "i'm calling 911." the boy said. "he's going to hurt someone."

fucking canadians indeed.


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i'm going home for the weekend, kids. have fun with the barbeques and the fireworks and the jazz fests and the ball tournaments and all the other good ways you celebrate this birthday of all birthdays....