Time to run for the border

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me
        -- Arlen-Harburg, 1939

OK, time for a reality check.

I’ve endured five weeks of pure sweetness and light here in Canada and must confess that it’s taking a toll on me. A city boy from California can only take so much of this treacle and cream before ending up with a stomach ache.

After ten more days of this goody-goody, “How d’ya like Canada, eh?” treatment, I may not be capable of surviving back in the real world. Listen, I’ll be in Joliet, Illinois next month – home of the Stateville prison which has been home to all kinds of mobsters -- I have to rediscover my lack of trust or they’ll eat me alive back in the states.

I spent the morning at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Heritage Museum here in Regina. It’s a brand new facility with impressive exhibits.

The basic message was repeated often; it might have been written for Sesame Street. Mounties are expected to be courteous at all times, to avoid violence, to be sensitive, helpful, trustworthy, brave (OK, I’m drifting into Boy Scout territory here; but these folks are the ultimate Boy Scouts.

I was believing it all. I wanted so much to believe it all. Maybe I need to believe it on some level.

Then I saw exhibits that reveal Canada’s dark underbelly. Oh, what a shock to discover that there are gangs, drugs, mass murderers, cop-killers and the same assortment of deviants we know so well in the States.

Oh, Bullwinkle, tell me it ain’t so!

Well, I don’t have much basis for forming any conclusions. I did manage to corner someone who should know – a retired member of the service, one with about 35 years experience. His remarks were made in a calm, matter-of-fact manner and I have no reason to suspect sour grapes – but, who knows?

“It’s like any law enforcement group,” he told me. “We have our share of bad apples and the bottom line is that a few people in the government set the agenda.”

There is so much to appreciate in Canada. I must confess that I’ve been humbled by the dozens and dozens of just plain decent folks I’ve met who are troubled by U.S. actions and policies but are too polite to make their case forcefully.

I believe that, for the most part, Canadians tend to choose paths that may reach goals a bit less quickly, but that do less harm to fewer people.

My travels take me back into the states on June 10 and I’ll have all Summer to re-aclimate to my own culture before returning to Canada on Aug. 4.

I suspect that the succeeding month, spent in Ontario, Quebec and New Brunswick will provide more informed insight. By Fall, I may have learned enough to offer more rational conclusions that have populated this channel of late.

Meanwhile, Saskatchewan has been swell; but I’m on to Manitoba in the morning.