I can see Canada from here and it's looking awfully good
Like most Americans I’m feeling physically ill this morning. I would not call myself grief stricken, just sick, nauseated by yet another atrocity and the predictable responses on both sides. I’m sickened by the hypocrisy of Trump’s prayers and the never ending parade of experts on violence working almost full time on cable news. In short, I’m sick of the United States of America.
I once considered myself patriotic. I served in Vietnam and, before that enlightening experience, even railed against peace activists. I became one myself in the run up to the Iraq war even though I paid a financial price for my very public stance against the war. I campaigned for John Kerry alongside other veterans and rejoiced when we twice elected Barack Obama. I believed we had turned a corner as a nation and as a society. In spite of the shameful conduct of the opposition party, I once again was proud of my country and hopeful for my children.
In November we saw how a wealthy minority was able to weaponize stupidity and hatred. We have witnessed eight months of national decline under the ironic banner of making America great again. It seems strange to be pitied by my friends in Europe, friends in countries that have endured invasion, occupation and oppression. Always a proud American, I have often fantasized about living in Italy as an expatriate but forever an American. During Bush’s presidency I looked into Irish citizenship which my grandmother’s birthplace entitled me to. In the end, I stuck with the home of the brave and the land of the free.
Following our last disastrous election I mused about moving to Canada. It was a comfortable fantasy but I was certain things would never get that bad. This morning my wife and I had our first serious discussion about it.
My life changed rather dramatically three years ago when my wife of forty years died very unexpectedly. When I assumed my life was over, I got a reprieve in the form of a reconnection with someone I was very close to before we drifted apart almost forty-five years ago. Decades later we discovered values and interests we shared even though we somehow had managed to overlook them in our youth. It became obvious that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. The only question was where. I had lived in southern Oregon all my life and she had returned to Washington State after a successful career on the east coast. For a number of reasons, we settled on her home in La Conner, Washington, very close to Canada.
We travel to Canada frequently. Our boating trips have taken us to within a few miles of Canadian waters and we have obtained the necessary documents to very easily visit Canadian ports. We have come to admire Canadian hospitality and culture. Trump’s presidency has given us many opportunities to compare the American way with the Canadian way and the red, white and blue is not faring well.
The recognition that we are living in a dying country that refuses to heal itself has made emigration more than just a possibility. That might be seen as escapism but, at our age, staying and fighting is no longer an attractive option. Maybe, as Canadians, we can keep it from happening again in another place.
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Is a question. I've heard Americans are welcome to settle the Maritimes, but even then there is the healthcare question. Unfortunately, I do not speek French, just English & Spanish. Truly, keep me posted. Thank you.
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If things don't change, I'm done.
I wanna go, too.
