On this past Canada Day, people in the old town were outdoors in great numbers. Many wore red and white clothing. Canadian flags in various sizes were everywhere. It adorned peoples clothing, flew from the hoods of passing cars and hung from the windows of homes and apartments. Kids and young adults sported temporary maple leaf tattoos on their arms, legs and faces. Your agent even saw a small dog wearing a flag in the manner of a cape.
On Canada Day, there were more maple leaf emblems around than you could shake a rake at.
***
The Sack held its second annual Canada Day street party a few Saturdays ago.
July 1st was still three days away, but Saturday was the day selected by the Sack Resident's Society. In other words, it was the day chosen by Gordon. Apparently, he had other plans for the real Canada Day.
Saturday was a grey, dreary day. Dense fog surrounded the neighbourhood in the morning. There was intermittent rain in the afternoon. Only a few residents participated in a planned morning yard sale. It was sparsely attended on account of the weather.
An afternoon street hockey game did not materialize. It was raining heavily at the appointed hour. Most Sack residents spent the day indoors. Your agent had a very pleasant afternoon nap. Weed and Daisy said they watched two entire seasons of The Wire on DVD. Oscar spent a few hours in the bathtub. He said he couldn't remember the last time he had a bath, instead of a shower.
Oscar got the idea for a bath from a movie he watched during the afternoon. Apparently, it was a western film. The main character was dirt-covered from many consecutive days on the wild frontier. The cowboy sighed with pleasure as he settled into the steaming, claw-foot bathtub. Then he started scrubbing himself with a sponge.
The scene intrigued Oscar. Immediately, he ran a hot bath for himself. After placing a book beside the tub, he inched his body into the water. Then, emulating the cowboy, he scrubbed himself "to a shine."
Relaxing back into the water, Oscar said he read his book for a while. Then he fell asleep. About ninety minutes later, he awoke. The skin on his hands and feet was badly shriveled from lengthy exposure to the water.
Oscar spent the better part of the evening showing off his wrinkled hands and feet. Most people did not want to see these appendages. His enthusiasm, however, could not be denied. He displayed his hands and feet to them, anyway.
***
The weather cleared by early evening. As planned, a group of residents assembled with lawn chairs in the Sack's centre circle. Little Doug brought out a large ceramic bowl filled with fuel gel. This allowed for a small fire and a focal point for an evening of drink and merriment.
Gordon had acquired some Canada Day paraphernalia from our local Member of Parliament. There were maple leaf tattoos, small flags and even a handful of visors with the phrase, Canada, eh? imprinted on the brim. Sack kids were covered with the tattoos. Most of the adults sported one, as well.
The size of the gathering fluctuated as the evening wore on. While adults relaxed in the circle, Sack kids milled about, some playing basketball and others engaged in a spirited game of tag. Occasionally, a younger Sack kid would enter the maze of chairs in the circle to cadge a soft drink or complain about an older sibling.
It was a busy and spirited environment.
***
Ben returned from Afghanistan a week before the Sack's Canada Day street party. He was there for six months.
Ben is a senior cook in the Canadian Forces. That's why he was in Afghanistan. He did not go there for tourism purposes. According to Ben, the tour was relatively uneventful. He spent all of his time at a Kandahar airbase. He said it was like living in a very big cul-de-sac.
When Ben joined the gathering in the Sack's centre circle, he brought a full-sized Canadian flag with him. It was attached to a hockey stick. He planted the butt end of the stick into the ground in the midst of the gathering.
Weed said Ben's use of the hockey stick, as a flagpole, was masterful. He said it turned the Canadian flag into a piece of art, rather than a national symbol. Ben agreed, but admitted that he hadn't considered this. He said he really didn't have much to choose from in his garage.
"It was either the hockey stick or my rake," he said, before draining his can of drink.
***
As darkness fell, Sack kids returned to their homes, leaving the adults in the centre circle. Someone brought out a portable stereo. With a few hours of drink behind them, voices became louder and merrier. Everyone, it seemed, was having a pleasant time.
It did not take long, however, for the evening to go awry.
***
The first incident was a relatively minor one. In retrospect, it merely foreshadowed the shenanigans that would follow.
Elizabeth had not been part of the evening festivities. Someone said she had gone to visit her mother in a local seniors home. Shortly after nine-thirty, however, she returned to the Sack. She drove her car around the centre circle and gazed at the flag, the gathering of neighbours and the small fire in their midst. She waved and smiled as her car entered the circle.
As she passed by, there was a sudden, loud retort. It sounded like a large firecracker or a blast from a shotgun. The noise startled everyone in the circle into a sudden, concerned silence. It also scared the crap out of Elizabeth.
She stopped her car quickly and stared out the window with a horrified, panicked expression on her face.
Big Doug was the first to react to the situation. He walked behind Elizabeth's car and looked on the ground. Then he bent over and picked up a flattened object from the ground. It was the remains of a basketball. He held it in the air for everyone to see. Residents in the circle erupted with relieved laughter.
Elizabeth had remained in her car. Her face was ashen and still frozen in astonishment. As previously noted, the loud retort had scared the crap out of her.
Big Doug held the drooping skin of the basketball in front of Elizabeth's car window. She stared at it for a moment and then lowered the window.
"Who owns the ball?" she asked.
Oscar raised his hand and waved in dismissal. "Don't worry about it, Elizabeth," he said with good nature. "It belongs to Dorian."
Dorian, of course, is Oscar's fifteen-year-old son.
Elizabeth's expression was now stern. "I'm not going to worry about it," she snapped. "You should make sure that your kid keeps his bloody toys off the street."
Then she raised her window and slowly continued around the circle. She did not look at anyone as she passed. After parking the car in her driveway, she walked briskly into her house.
Elizabeth did not reappear to celebrate Canada Day.
***
Voices were hushed for a few moments after Elizabeth's departure. Only when she disappeared into her home did anyone speak.
Oscar, of course, was irate about Elizabeth's reply. He started ranting about her rudeness and general rigidity. Some residents murmured their agreement, while others considered that the sound had scared the crap out of her. They said she was probably still in a state of shock when she made the comment.
None of this stopped Oscar from ranting on about Elizabeth. When he gets going like this, he's prone to standing up as if delivering an oration. That's what he did on this occasion. This can put a damper on things when you're relaxing in a lawn chair at a Canada Day street party.
Thankfully, Jeff Christ intervened. During a brief gap in the oration, he asked if he could see Oscar's wrinkled hands and feet. Oscar was happy to oblige. After allowing Jeff Christ to have a close-up view of the peeling skin on his palms and soles, he seemed to forget about the affair involving Elizabeth and the flattened basketball.
Jeff Christ, of course, is a very fine fellow.
***
The discordant vibe from the flattened basketball affair quickly subsided. Cheerfulness reigned once again.
Marion regaled the gathering with a tale about her husband, Computer Doug. During the previous week, he suffered a mishap involving static electricity. According to Marion, Computer Doug retrieved a short-sleeved dress shirt from a basket of clean laundry. After donning the shirt, he left for work. He didn't notice the light blue child's sock stuck firmly to the back of the shirt.
It was mid-morning before Computer Doug learned about the sock on his back. He had just started a PowerPoint presentation to a group of colleagues when the discovery was made. Unfortunately, he did not make the discovery himself.
It was the accumulation of laughter that caused him to find the errant sock.
***
Barely an hour passed before more shenanigans befell the Sack's Canada Day street party. It was a Britney Bitterman meltdown of the highest order.
Neither Britney, nor her beau, Maxwell had been party to the festivities in the centre circle. The Bitterman residence had been dormant throughout the evening. According to Ben's wife, Norma, the elder Bittermans were at their cottage for the weekend.
Shortly after ten-thirty, however, Britney and Maxwell entered the Sack on foot. Maxwell was pushing a double stroller containing their two sons. Their toddler, Jekyll was confined in the front seat. The infant, Hyde was fast asleep in the rear seat.
Residents in the circle exchanged pleasantries with the young family as they passed. There was some obligatory cooing and clucking at young Hyde. Britney was quite pleasant during this exchange. Maxwell, of course, was his usual half-baked self.
After only a few minutes, the couple proceeded into the Bitterman house. About fifteen minutes later, Maxwell reappeared in the circle with a can of drink in his hand. He settled into the gathering and was soon pontificating about his talent for interior painting and candlepin bowling.
Thankfully, Maxwell's attention shifted when he was invited to view the peeling skin on Oscar's hands and feet. He was deeply impressed by the sight.
***
However, it soon became evident that Britney had not sanctioned Maxwell's participation in the gathering. She appeared suddenly at the front door of the Bitterman house and called out to him.
Apparently, she had just discovered his absence from the house. In no uncertain terms, she told him to get his rear end back inside. Maxwell gave her a brief wave and said he would be finished "in a few minutes."
This was not, of course, the desired response. Britney erupted like a lit firecracker. She unleashed a stream of invective from the front steps. She did not use the kind of language one would expect at a Canada Day street party.
***
Unfortunately, Maxwell failed to grasp the gravity of the situation. As Britney became more irate, he became more dismissive. He seemed determined to engage in a few cans of drink and some idle conversation before returning to his domestic duties.
"Just hang onto your panty hose and I'll be right in," he said calmly. Then he turned his back on her and focused his attention on the circle of Sack residents.
For a few seconds, Britney was silent as she stood on the front porch. Weed said this was likely the moment when a blood vessel burst in the vicinity of her temple. In an instant, she stood in the midst of the Canada Day gathering. Then she provided Maxwell with a proper dressing-down.
Sack residents had front row seats to the domestic affair. Facial expressions were a mix of astonishment and embarrassment. Oscar said it was another moment that was far better than anything on digital cable.
He could be right about this.
***
Unless it's employed with some degree of imagination, your agent isn't a big fan of profanity. As such, Britney Bitterman's utterances will not be repeated here. However, here was the gist of her tirade:
- Maxwell is lazy and good for nothing in particular.
- He is a sponge and a moocher.
- Money burns a hole in his pocket.
- His chances of ever winning a Father-of-the-Year award are very remote.
- He smokes too much weed.
- His head is filled with fecal matter, rather than grey matter.
Both observations are likely correct.
***
Britney ended her tirade with a dire warning. If Maxwell didn't follow her into the house "toot sweet," then the door would be locked and he would be banished from the Bitterman abode forever.
Maxwell stood up slowly and then emptied the contents of his drink into his mouth. Then, after a loud, dramatic belch, he bade everyone a polite farewell. He walked through the circle with his hands in his pockets and then ambled toward the Bitterman residence. Britney followed behind him with her flip-flops clacking against the pavement. As she walked, she reiterated her assessment of his deficiencies.
Sack residents simply sat in stunned silence.
Rental Doug was the first person to speak. In September, he and his blended family will be leaving the Sack. He said, "Man, I'm really going to miss this place."
***
It was now after eleven o'clock. The flattened basketball and the Britney Bitterman meltdown had cast a pall over the evening. Almost in unison, the majority of the remaining residents announced their intention to draw the evening to a close.
Oscar howled in disappointment, then protested with vigour. True Canadians, he argued, would not let such bad karma get the better of them. He appealed to everyone's sense of nationalism and implored all to have one more drink "for Canada."
Despite some initial refusals, almost everyone agreed to stay in the circle for another drink. Oscar sat beside the cooler and passed out cans of drink with renewed enthusiasm. He reached out with the last can, intending it give it to Little Doug. Unfortunately, he remained in his lawn chair at the same time.
Oscar lost his balance and his chair quickly toppled over.
Thankfully, he didn't land on the small fire in the midst of the gathering. He did, however, fall against the makeshift flagpole bearing Ben's Canadian flag. Oscar knocked the hockey stick onto a thirty-degree angle.
A corner of the Canadian flag landed on the fire and it was quickly set ablaze.
***
Once again, Big Doug was the first to react to an emerging situation. Calmly and quickly, he put out the flames that engulfed the flag. He did so in the only manner that you can extinguish a burning flag.
He stepped on it.
***
The Sack's celebration of our national holiday was probably unique across this great and unusual land. It was likely the only one where the Canadian flag was set on fire and stepped upon.
There are probably only a few times in history where the Canadian flag has been burned in anger. I can't think of an example, but Oscar assures me that, as a country, we must have pissed off somebody at some point. He could be right about this.
One can only assume, therefore, that when the Canadian flag is set afire, it's almost always done accidentally.
Thankfully, that's how Ben, the owner of the flag and a recent veteran of the Afghanistan war viewed the affair. He was quick to reassure Oscar that the matter was a simple accident. He made this acknowledgment only after he stopped laughing. He thought Oscar's fall, the burning of the flag and Big Doug's frenzied dance upon it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.
After composing himself, Ben sat down on his lawn chair again. Then he took a long haul from his can of drink and said, "Man, it's good to be home."
***
Just before midnight, the Sack's Canada Day street party finally came to an end. Oscar did not protest this time. He didn't want to take any chances after accidentally burning the Canadian flag.
Everyone collected the lawn chairs and then retired to their homes. Farewells echoed through the street. Your agent helped Ben with some of his lawn chairs. He was still laughing about the burnt flag. The fire had destroyed almost a third of it. The bottom quarter of the red maple leaf was gone.
When we reached his driveway, Ben said there was another reason why he wasn't concerned about the loss of his Canadian flag. He said it had just occurred to him as we walked down the street.
"If you can believe it," he said with a smile, "the flag was made in China."
***
