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.

Only On The Walters Post

Funny how some things sneak up on you. You look around and think about all the students coming in from overseas. Schools love them—they fill seats, bring in tuition, make the numbers look good…on paper. But here’s the thing: once they’re done, a lot of them don’t leave. They stick around, looking for work, looking for housing, using services we’re already stretched to cover. And meanwhile, they’re taking jobs that could’ve gone to folks who’ve been here their whole lives, just trying to make a living. You start to see the strain—the traffic, the rents, the lines at the clinics…

And then there’s the money side. Everyone talks about how students “spend money,” but it’s not all theirs. Some of it is their cash—sure—but a lot comes from government subsidies, loans, programs. And in some cases, we even bring them here and pay their way, hoping they’ll stay and contribute. But that’s a gamble. And if they don’t stay, or don’t contribute the way we hope, it’s the working man who ends up carrying the weight while the folks in the high towers shake their heads and write it down in a report somewhere.

Meanwhile, governments keep printing and borrowing, adding debt, making it look like everything’s fine. And some economist—Carney, I think—comes out and says, “Well, people are going to have to buckle down and pay the price.” But here’s the truth: it’s not the working man who’s the problem, it’s the ones making the rules, the ones spinning the numbers so it looks good when reality is…well, it ain’t good for the people who actually do the work.

So yeah, call me old-fashioned, but I say stop bringing people in until we can handle it. Fix the housing, fix the hospitals, fix the schools, make sure there’s work for the folks already here. Take care of the people who built this country in the first place. And while you’re at it, deal with the criminals and freeloaders, the ones just coming in to take without giving back.

The thing is...what looks great on paper can be a nightmare on Main Street. And we’re the ones feeling it, while the numbers and reports keep stacking up in some office somewhere.

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

Only On The Walters Post

You know, I’ve been thinking about grocery stores lately. Don’t know exactly why, but I was standing there the other day in front of the milk cooler and it just hit me. You know that feeling when something you’ve walked past a hundred times suddenly strikes you a bit different?

There it was, a whole lineup of milk, 1%, 2%, skim, lactose-free, and then a couple jugs of plain whole milk hiding at the end, like some guilty pleasure. Funny how the regular thing became the odd one out.

At any rate, I picked up the skim milk, looked at the price and found it cost more than the whole milk. To me that seemed a bit backwards. The thing is… skim milk is whole milk with the fat taken out, then they add things back in… stabilizers, sometimes sugar to make up for the flavor that left with the fat. What most don’t know is that the fat carries vitamins and balances what nature put there for a reason. Strip it out and somehow that’s supposed to be healthier.

Once you start noticing it, you see it everywhere. I also picked up bread that stays fresh for three weeks. My grandmother’s bread went stale within two or three days because it was just flour, water, salt, and yeast. Somewhere along the way, we got convinced that natural isn’t enough.

Our grandparents drank whole milk, cooked with butter, and ate what was local. They worked hard and didn’t need labels to tell them what was good.

Anyways, maybe it’s time we stop letting marketing tell us what’s better. Makes you wonder what we’ve gained from all this improvement… and what we’ve already lost without noticing.

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