5.20.2025
Rain upon my person all weekend. Did not mind. Was not tragic. The office I use is empty on account it’s Victoria Day in all the provinces but this one. When Quebec celebrates they celebrate not celebrating dead monarchs. Here it’s French Nationalist Patriot’s Day or something around there. Explains the festivities I encountered on my walk through Parc La Fontaine. Drawn like an insect to the soft pulse of an EDM beat near a public restroom. Middle aged men engaged in hackysack, badminton sans net, one guy just generally spinning a long baton which on closer inspection is a stick. Vive le proles. Seriously this all makes me happy and proud for them and tres jaloux. The parks are full here and alive. Communal merriment. The benches are well worn but you can usually find one to sit on. Children and dogs intermingle with everyone else and I rarely see conflict. A concrete expanse behind the school in the middle of the park is always active with bocce players. Bocce is big. Bocce is like the pickleball of Montreal I guess. Teams lined up in formation, disciplined, gamblers poised around the picnic tables placing odds. Only a clown bets against the lady in the high waisted jeans. Only there are plenty of clowns, some of them professionals. Nevertheless I see no threat or germs of violence. Being somewhere peaceful makes me feel guilty. Or outraged. How can everyone be so calm? Or this is what's actually normal and what we should all aspire to make our worlds like. The more time I spend away from the kaiju across the border the less it has a hold on me. Like I don't come from there, or was never meant to, or none of us were. I don't know I'm working something out so thanks for being around for it.
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