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Someday my boat will come in and with my luck I’ll be at the airport. On together… A woman walked into a store to return a pair of…

Someday my boat will come in and with my luck I’ll be at the airport.

On together…

A woman walked into a store to return a pair of eyeglasses she’d bought for her husband the week before.

“What seems to be the problem, madam?”

“I’m returning these glasses I bought for my husband. He’s still not seeing things my way.”

Ah, ‘tis the way of our world is it not? In debates in high-level land those in power apparently all wear the same one-way vision, rose-coloured glasses, and the opposition similar glasses, just green-with-envy in colour.

Once, just once, wouldn’t it make your day to hear those wearing rose-coloured glasses say to those wearing green, orange and other coloured glasses, “That’s a good idea you’ve got, let’s work on it together.”

It’s reminiscent of the young child who asked a woman how old she was.

“Thirty-nine and holding,” she replied.

The child thought for a moment, then said, “And how old would you be if you let go?”

Don’t you wonder, occasionally, how far ahead we’d be if our leaders “let go” of their hard lines, and pushed the democratic reset button? Togetherness, all for one and one for all, for the people, and all that, just as they do when they give themselves a raise?

Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles. What do we live for if not to make the world less difficult for each other? (George Eliot)

A Nostalgic B.P. Cruise:

It’s still possible in these modern days of all-wheel drive and paved roads to experience a “before pavement” cruise. You know, way back when all-wheel drive would have been handy once in a while, but rear-wheel drive was it.

Remember dirt and gravel roads — dodging pail-sized potholes, bouncing around like being on a road trampoline, and when curve and caution signs hid in the bushes like kids playing hide and seek.

Or remember a monstrous truck appearing out of the dust, like a Harry Potter monster over one of countless unmarked dips and dives filling both halves of the road, striking terror into your heart, becoming just an ordinary pick-up as it flashes past.

Then there’s the exhilaration of spotting a moose as it takes one step from the bush on to the road since the ditch, if there is a ditch, is bush too.

There you had wildlife viewing at its finest, eyeball to eyeball, with the added dimension of a carload of people imitating a quick freeze.

Yes sir, it’s like stepping back in time to the early days of the Alcan. You can re-live those good-old-days gravel roads by driving the Atlin Road to visit friends and neighbours in our nearest BC jewel in the scenic crown — Atlin.

There was a time Atlinites and Yukoners would clap and cheer if you suggested putting a loop in the border so that awesome country would come into our fold so they could change their address to Atlin, YT.

I wonder if, like the road, that still holds?

(Credit where credit is due: both ends of the road are pretty good, our side, and their side. Our side is new, high-class gravel up to L’il Atlin Lake — ready for pavement gravel. The BC side was paved a few years back for 16-or-so kilometres, but they stopped far short of the border.

Like the older lady holding, this is a “1972 and holding” phase; ’72 was when the dozers and other hardware hit the road to begin “upgrades” according to guys and gals who were running the machines. But hey, it usually takes a long time to find a shorter way, right? I sure hope it doesn’t take as long for them to meet in the middle. Left to the builders it’d be done in no time. It’s those coloured glasses, which seem to keep getting in the way.)

Everyone wants to be chief cook and bottle washer but no one wants to do the rest of the dishes.

A tip of the hat to the good old days, but not to some things, like roads requiring a half-track, although having the road to yourself for an hour or two had its merits, if you didn’t have a flat, which wasn’t as rare as it is today. Mind you, that had an up side too.

You met lots of interesting people stopping to offer a hand, or a drink of water from the canvas bag hanging in front of the rad.

W.M. Thackeray made a good point when he said, “Good humour is one of the best articles of dress one can wear in society,” and he was backed up by Anonymous when he, or she, observed, “cheerfulness is the window cleaner of the mind.”

Rain is a good cleaner too, but my windows are cleaner than they’ve ever been, and almost worn out from rain. Enough already!