Hypergraffiti

Where I spray-paint my thoughts…


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The Goodest Gil

That’s it; that’s the post.


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Stop…

…hiding in your homes.

…shovelling all day.

…compulsively checking #nlwx on Twitter.

…this State of Emergency.

Normal life will resume at 0600 tomorrow, January 25, 2020.

Or will it?


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Waiting

Waiting in line for groceries

like the folks in Communist Russia used to do when I was a child

we pitied them: the shortages, the lack

of freedom.

Now, four days after the storm

we weigh the good of the many

against the needs of the few

and quietly queue

for toilet paper

milk

more storm chips.


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Storm Windows

I could spend all day staring out these upstairs bedroom windows at the street scenes below, the unfolding slow drama that follows the Storm of the Century. It’s slower and less dramatic than my other obsession, the #nlwx hashtag on Twitter where folks share pictures of snow-filled doorways turned into beer fridges, friendly bonfires in the middle of snow-choked streets, daredevil snowboarders flying through downtown. The street below me is gentler than Twitter; gentler than Freshwater Road is in real life.

This is not real life: this is post-storm, state of emergency. This is a man pulling his toddler on a slide down one of the main streets in the city while a police truck cruises by at 5 km/h. This is the guy next door offering his snowblower services to the folks with the twelve-foot snow wall … and to us. People are friendlier, chattier. Maybe the same people who are on Twitter bawling out others for going to the corner store for smokes. Storms bring out the best and the worst in us. It’s a parenthesis in time. Maybe what happens between the brackets, what I see out these storm windows, doesn’t count.