– • david ross macdonald • extras and journal

some people

13.10.2009 (2:05 pm) – Filed under: notes on tour ::

I find myself on a far and remote western fringe of Winnipeg standing outside the Shoppers Drugmart beside Walmart. Pretty spot.

While standing before this contusion of capitalism bandaged with pre-fab concrete compresses with a hemorrhaging tourniquet for a car-park I idly note that the brisk trade of crap-from-China ensures that the only spare space left to park is in the handicap zone directly in front of me. That is until this meat-headed jerk in a black Ford ‘Leviathan’ pickup truck swings into the blue rectangled oasis.

“Some people”! I utter to myself in disgust.

Readying for a throw-down I mentally rehearse my insults and assurances that folks in Canada are less likely to pull a hand gun on you. The truck door swings open and I take one step forward with a piece of my mind readied for this meat head. Suddenly his collapsable wheel chair drops into view from beneath the door and this young guy  expertly manoeuvres down to his wheels as if performing the iron-cross on the rings with olympian flair. I am ashamed and stand there with mouth agape.

He turns, pushes and rolls a few feet my way when out of the blue a sedan careens by and almost runs him over! Using skill, power and quick wits he expertly evades disaster, he then turns, rolls my way and looks me directly in the eye and exclaims … “some people”!

Now, ever had someone explain earnestly to you at a party that “things happen for a reason” while tediously regaling you about the challenging yet enlightening time they contracted Giardia while back-packing through northern India? Well my guts tell me that fairness is an abstraction clumsily conferred by parents upon their children and I wouldn’t use the word karma in a conversation with a guy who lost his legs in a diving accident. So while I stood there shamed in the shadow of Walmart I am also at a loss to illuminate why he has wheels for legs and I don’t. All I can do is bear humbling witness to his hardship and his triumph and entertain the selfish hope that this would never happen to me and that his courage augers inspiration and a call to compassion.

Some people.