Only On The Walters Post

Funny how politics is like an old truck I used to own. I swear that thing had a mind of its own. You’d hit the starter a dozen times—it would cough, sputter, then finally roar to life, and you’d think, “Well, that was worth it, I guess.” Politics feels like that to me sometimes.

Take Chris d’Entremont, Nova Scotia MP, jumping from the Conservatives to the Liberals. He said the leadership was pushing and yelling, calling him a snake. Can’t say I blame him. I’d probably pack up my desk too if someone barged in, yelling and calling me names. Kinda reminds me of that old rooster I had back on the farm—crowing at all hours, everyone thinking it was warning of something serious, but really it was just crowing because it felt like it. Like politicians sometimes: loud, chaotic—not always a sign of danger, usually just noise.

And us, the people… we vote for these folks. Well, not me, as, truth be told, I don’t have much use for any of them, so why vote for people I don’t like? Then again, some folks do, and then they complain. Some of it’s fair. Some of it… I dunno, just grumbling. Like a friend of mine years ago, trying to fry a turkey in the backyard, complaining the fire’s too hot—not realizing he put gasoline in the pan.

And then there are these demonstrations, protests… I wouldn’t hesitate to bet half the people there don’t know the first thing about the laws or the leaders or the mess behind the headlines. Reminds me of another friend of mine once that went to a rally thinking it was a barbecue. He came back three hours later with a flag he didn’t even like.

Chris also said the Conservatives felt more like a frat house than a serious party. That made me laugh, because I’ve known a few frat houses—loud, messy, beer on the floor, and someone always upset about not getting the corner room. Sure, leadership style matters, but sometimes it’s just the culture that takes over, no matter who’s in charge. People get tired, they fold, they walk away or switch sides. It’s not just politics; you see it everywhere—on baseball teams, in church choirs. I remember my aunt, always switching pews like it was a chess game. Nobody really noticed, but it made her feel better.

And the powers that be… well, they are damn good at what they do. Like a fox in a hen-house that knows every hiding spot, every weak little wall. They nudge thoughts, steer minds, get people moving without them even noticing. And most folks follow the cues, repeat the lines, cheer the loudest, all while thinking they’re thinking for themselves. Funny how that happens. My old shop cat does the same thing—stalking shadows, thinking it’s hunting, but mostly just moving around because it can.

Anyway… people complain, politicians yell, floor crossings happen. And somewhere, the creek is running a little higher than usual and, well… life goes on.

Until the next time: Keep Your Minds Open & Your Stories Alive.