Part 2… Steve learns the importance of senates, witnesses an epic moment in Ginnie’s life, and emanates SHUSH waves
…The good news is little Jimmy’s walking stick still lies unused in that park. He has always understood that it was Mom’s fault I couldn’t buy his planes anymore and he and Kellie and I remained pretty good freinds. The three of us would often play on the same team for neighborhood street hockey games – Jimmy always playing center no matter where he started because he could not help but rush straight for the net on offence and race all the way back to play defense on his grateful legs, Kellie a sometimes spectacular goalie, and myself playing something although nobody seems to remember that. I remember how the nets we used were of differing proportions – one was bigger than the other one. Before each game the teams would vote on who got the small net. The other team usually included the James’s – a family of four girls and three boys who played on the same team by subbing off. They won the vote for the small net every time! After the third time this happened I told everyone that we shouldn’t just have a majority vote about the nets. I suggested we create a special group that would decide fairly on who got the small net. So we had a vote about who would be in that group and the James’s team voted for themselves! All seven James’s were in the special group, and Kellie – because the James boys liked her. It was at this point that I realized that an equal and effective senate is crucial to a federal democracy.
After those early happy days of moving in what were probably definable fractal patterns on the streets of my youth I went to school. There wasn’t much there for me to learn but there was one thing that was definately new to me – it was at an early age that the stirrings of mutual attraction awoke in my rib cage vicinity. One day most of the kids were out in the field playing soccer while I was near the school building skipping rocks on the pavement. Suddenly a girl named Ginnie came up beside me – grabbing my sleeve – and pulled me towards the building. Ginnie Young was the cutest girl in Grade Four, I thought, although she wasn’t quite one of the cool kids. Perhaps this was part of her attraction to me and I guess she had noticed. My physiological reaction approximated that which is commonly expressed by the saying: “My heart skipped a beat”. Closing her eyes and pulling me close, Ginnie leaned back into the brick corner and coyly pursed her lips. In that moment of presumbable emotion I leaned closer still, so close that I could sense her warmth and inhale the taste of salt from her peach freckle skin so that I still remember her in visceral flashes of memory on beautiful days at the beach – and I took her hand and shook it. The shock of the moment blew her eyes open. Not many people witness the instant in which another human being first understands the sheer irony of life but I am one of them. Later that day we were all working on math sheets (I was done and was reading a book inside my desk) and Ginnie raised her hand. Our teacher looked up and nodded to her. Plaintively, Ginnie said: “Teacher, Stephen is an alien.” I was caught off guard and I looked sharply over at her with a finger at my lips, emanating SHUSH waves. The other students all looked at me strangely and I realized that overreacting would create problems so I quickly emulated a relaxed format, smiled, and blew her a handshake. Mr. Childers, a balding and confirmed bachelor who wore ineffective spenders and whose two inch long nose hairs mingled with a walrus salt and pepper mustache that somehow ran into a goatee said, “Yes Ginnie, it is probable that Stephen is an alien but he is still part of the class. So ignore him, Ok?”. It was always a wonder when Mr. Childers spoke – his stout nose hairs seemingly stirring the flowing masses of his facial hair – and the issue was forgotten. As you can see, my understanding that a country can comprise more than one nation has deep, bristly, roots.
Of course, except for beautiful days at the beach, Ginnie is a forgotten memory as the true love of my life Laureen has taken that place. You may have heard of how I would go around oblivious to missing buttons on my shirt before I met her and obviously she has really filled me in on a lot besides having that sexiest of things – keen intelligence. Frankly, our life since we met has, of course, obviously included its share of missing buttons – resulting in our two precious children Ben and Rachel. Obviously, you – of course – don’t want to think frankly about that. Obviously, of course – frankly. Frankly of course. Obviously. I will mention though, that our personal life has certainly gained an edge now that I occasionally make the joke that – now that I’m Prime Minister – I’m finally good enough for Laureen for her to take my last name, lol ; )
Anyhow that’s enough for now. I need to get back to governing this country so I can finish that and return to my passion – that book I’m writing about hockey statistics.