Typical morning traffic report on local Tehran radio:
“Traffic is extremely heavy along Sheikh Fazlollah. Dear drivers, be aware and try and avoid this route if possible. Hemmat is pretty congested too, with reports of an accident before the turning into Pol-e nasr. Ambulance men and police are on the way. Azadi square is more or less blocked, and we advise our dear respectful drivers to keep clear of the square if they possbly can. Report of another accident along the Kordestan highway just reached us…”
Typical morning traffic report in Halifax:
“Well, there’s pretty much nothing going on this morning. No problems reported just yet. Motorists- be careful… just because the stretch of road seems empty doesn’t mean you should start speeding, ha ha ha. [note of desperation creeps into presenter’s voice] please call us if you see anything … just anything at all… this is a toll-free line. Just call me…I’m dying of boredom here…
No- he actually doesn’t say the last few words, but it is implied in his tone of voice. He barely manages to stifle a yawn, this guy who entertains me on my two-minute drive from daycare to office.
To be honest, I am getting a bit paranoid, listening to this fellow reporting on “nothing much to report, this is Halifax, Nova Scotia” every morning. Perhaps I should try and find an all-music channel. No talk, just music.
But what if something just happened?
It won’t. This is Halifax after all- the last time something happened was sixty-something years ago in World War II when the captain of an allied ship (the enemy never thought it worth while to come this far) lit a cigar and accidentally blew half of Halifax up along with himself. Haligonians are apparently so traumatized by the Halifax Explosion (you see books about it in every bookshop and gift store) that they’ve taken damned good care that nothing happens ever again in their lovely little city.
So I might as well just listen to music. Nothing to report.