What is wrong with Canadian politics?
We asked people around the Atlantic provinces this question — but to tell us in a single word
It’s not the House of Commons, but that doesn’t mean the Shillelagh House Restaurant, just outside Truro, isn’t political.
Inside, it’s “order at the counter,” a lot of halibut and chips being served, quick and sturdy portions, fast customer traffic.
And, like everywhere else, politics is on the menu, even if it’s served up in only a terse word or two.
At the table next to mine, an elderly woman and her daughter have plenty to say.
‘It would be nice to sit at an outside table, but there would be flies.’ ‘The sun would be too bright.’ ‘It was too windy.’
Inside, the table was sticky. They had to wash their hands. The tables were too close together: “Just a little more space and we wouldn’t be sitting on top of everyone.”
At that point, I was the only “everyone” nearby.
They watched when my food was set down: I felt my lunch was being judged.
“That’s a lot of french fries,” the daughter said.
There were lots and lots of words in the air.
Until the women next to me got into politics.
When the topic of the current federal election came up, the mother’s mouth tightened. “Crooks,” she said. The jury had spoken. The political discussion ended. Their food arrived.
So, go ahead: what’s your word?